Why We Keep Coming Back to the Horse Show Life — Even When It's Hard
+ A Personal Note on Burnout, Taking a Break, and Finding Your Way Back
There’s something about the horse show life that gets into your bones — deeper than routine, more permanent than a phase. It’s gritty and graceful, demanding and deeply rewarding. It’s early mornings, long drives, aching muscles, empty wallets, and full hearts.
And still — we keep coming back. Again and again.
But if we’re being honest — this life can also wear you down. Hard.
I know, because it happened to me.
The Heart of Horse Showing: Why We Love It
There’s something about the horse show life that gets into your soul.
It’s early mornings, late nights, sore muscles, and functioning on caffeine. It’s setbacks, heartbreaks, big wins, and quiet victories.
It’s the smell of leather and fly spray, and the sound of hooves echoing on concrete. It’s brushing your horse under the barn lights before the sun rises, and the hush of a warm-up arena while you mentally run through your pattern. It’s the adrenaline that builds as you wait to hear your number called, and the anticipation just before you ride into the pen.
Why do we keep coming back?
Because even with all the challenges… we love it. All of it.
It gives us purpose. It gives us something to strive for — goals to chase, habits to build, and reasons to keep improving. Not just as riders, but as people.
They teach us patience. Humility. Perseverance.
They push us to grow — mentally, emotionally, and physically.
We crave those moments of harmony between us and our horses. The little wins no one else sees. The knowing glance with your trainer. The high-five after a ride that just felt right, regardless of where the judge placed you.
It’s walking out of the ring — sometimes with a win, sometimes without — but always with pride. Because you showed up. You did the work. You gave your horse your best, and they gave it right back.
It’s the community. The friends who become like family. The ones who cheer you on, help with last-minute touch-ups and celebrate your success like it was their own.
Horse show weekends aren’t just about competition — they’re about connection.
It’s the growth. Every ride teaches you something. How your patience, confidence, and horsemanship evolve over time. Every time you swing your leg over a horse, every pattern you ride, every misstep and every breakthrough — they all shape you into a better rider, a better competitor, and a stronger version of yourself.
And at the heart of it all — it’s the horse.
The partner who trusts you, tries for you, and carries your hopes with every stride.
That bond between horse and rider — it’s hard to explain, but impossible to forget.
So yes — it’s hard. It’s exhausting. And sometimes, it doesn’t go the way we hoped.
Horse showing is built on passion, sacrifice, and more grit than glamour.
But for those of us who truly love it?
It’s magic.
Burnout Happens — But You’re Not Alone
Burnout in the horse world is real. And it’s tough — because horses aren’t just a sport, they’re a lifestyle. It feels like losing a part of yourself.
In my early 20s, after showing for nearly 13 years, I stepped away.
At the time, I was showing a hunt seat gelding who was struggling with on-and-off soundness. Vet visits were constant, the answers were unclear, and I was doing everything I could to “fix” him.
But I was also battling something deeper: I was so hard on myself. We are all our own worst critics. I was showing at a higher level than I had before, surrounded by very talented riders, and I didn’t feel like I belonged. I lacked confidence in myself, and the pressure I put on myself to “measure up” became overwhelming. I was focusing on all the wrong things. I was worried about others and how they were doing and not focusing on my own journey. I also didn't want to let my trainer, horse or myself down. That kind of weight doesn’t just affect you — it trickles down to your horse too. I carried that stress into every ride, and it made everything harder. Comparison is a thief. But I hadn't learned that yet.
At the same time, I had just finished paying my way through college. I worked a low-paying job and cleaned stalls for my trainer at the time to help cover training costs. Roughly 25 stalls, twice a week. I was also doing morning chores and stalls at another local barn, caring for around 12 horses. When I wasn’t in the barn, I was picking up every shift I could at work to have extra cash for horse shows. Eventually, I made the decision to sell my gelding. I told myself I’d take a short break — just step away for a little while. But at the time, I didn’t know if I’d ever truly come back to showing the way I wanted to.
It didn’t take long before something inside me stirred again. Within a year, I bought a green 2-year-old. At first, I was still hesitant. I was burned out and wary. But the difference this time? The people. The atmosphere. The support. I found a barn that felt like home to me. One where our barn mates encouraged each other. Where success is celebrated — no matter what it looks like. Where the friendships run deep. Where showing is fun again.
The job I’m in now allows me the flexibility to show and the financial breathing room to enjoy it the way I want. And that — paired with a good barn and a kind community — changed everything.
But here’s what I’ve learned:
1. It’s okay to step back.
Taking a break doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’re human. Life gets busy, money gets tight, and things happen. That pause might be the thing that helps you love it again later.
2. The people around you matter more than you think.
The right barn, trainer, or group of fellow exhibitors can absolutely make or break your experience. Choose support. Choose positivity.
3. You get to define what success looks like.
For some, it’s the trophy. For others, it’s getting around a class with confidence. Your goals are valid — big or small.
4. Don’t let showing become your identity.
You are more than placings. You are a rider, a learner, a horsewoman. That matters more than the points on your record.
Why We Stay in the Game
Because despite the challenges — we still love this.
We love the way a horse nickers when they see us.
We love the friendships made in the show pen.
We love the feeling of peace in the saddle and the adrenaline in the ring.
We love improving. We love growing. We love the hope of “maybe next time.”
Even when it’s hard, we come back.
Even after breaks, we come back.
Even when we tell ourselves we’re done — we’re not.
Because we’re horse people. And a little bit crazy, sure. But crazy in love with this life.
So, if you’re feeling burned out, please know this: you’re not alone. You’re not broken. And you don’t have to give it all up forever.
Take a breath. Take a break.
And when you’re ready, we’ll see you back in the warm-up pen.
What keeps you coming back to horses and showing? Share your story in the comments — we’d love to hear it.