When therapy didn’t work out, I turned to horseback riding
There’s a difference between equestrians — athletes who ride — and horse girls, who probably love riding, too, but are also incurably obsessed with equines. My sister and I were definitely horse girls. Years before our first real riding lessons, we read about horses, and any chance we got, we were on horseback. We were also lucky: a friend’s mom was a riding instructor, and we traded chores for lessons at her barn while growing up in Edmonton. Those few years, from around age twelve to fifteen, were some of the happiest of my life.
Eventually, we had to quit riding, because it was expensive and my parents couldn’t drive us out to the country all the time. School became a priority. I always wanted to ride again, but I have been a freelance writer for most of my adult life, so there was no way I could afford it.
I freelanced for so many years partly because the idea of full-time work terrified me: I’ve dealt with depression since I was a teenager, and self- employment allowed me to manage my own schedule so I could accommodate my physical and emotional exhaustion. I was only formally diagnosed and given a treatment plan in my mid-thirties, and I slowly got better. A steady government job would follow several years later. And now, in my forties, I am literally back on the horse.
Esta historia es de la edición April 2019 de The Walrus.
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Esta historia es de la edición April 2019 de The Walrus.
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