A year ago, Victoria told me that Hottie was ready to jump at the Grand Prix level, and I was elated. Clearly it’s something I wanted.
I never got there.
Still, my heart’s fluttering like it’s the Grand Prix when Hottie and I enter the ring for our level two showjumping round. I think I’m more nervous than he is.
Three vets cleared him to jump.
And that was more than two months ago.
I still fretted about whether this was wise. At the end of the day, Hottie doesn’t need to jump at all if it’s not what’s best for him. But as we move toward the start, he’s eager, his eyes bright, and I realize that Victoria was right to urge me to compete on him again.
He needs this as much as I do.
Because the bond between a girl and her horse isn’t just about staring into each other’s eyes. It’s about working together to become better than we were alone. Hottie trusts me, and I’m so proud of him for being here again. I’m proud of him for listening to me, for pacing himself as we clear our first oxer, and I’m delighted with the turns he makes, and the way he gives to the bit, even with people cheering and clapping.
We’re about to clear the course when, on the last jump, his back leg knocks a pole. When we stop, I realize we also had a time fault.
“That was good, kiddo,” Victoria says. “You know what I’m going to say, though.”
“I should have gotten an add on the line.”
She nods. “That left him strung out, forcing you to choke down around the big bend.”
I sigh.
When they announce the horses who are advancing to the jump off, our names aren’t on the list. My heart sinks a bit, but then it floats back up. My gorgeous husband’s in the stands, waving and throwing his thumbs up, like he has no idea we were just cut.
Because to him, and to me, if I’m being honest, this loss doesn’t matter.
The two men who do matter the most in my life, Emerson and Hottie, are both healthy and happy. I’m on my sweet guy’s back competing again, and everything’s going perfectly for once.
Even though we just lost.
The best parts of life don’t require ribbons or championships or applause. The best parts are the people and horses we care about, showing up for things that matter. Two hours later, I watch as Victoria wins third in level nine. In its own way, it’s as disappointing as my loss. But like me, Victoria pats her horse and smiles.
Life’s full of wins and losses, but they aren’t what changes us. Emerson and all his siblings have endured hits that most of us can’t even imagine. Like Hottie, they could’ve given up. If they’d called it, if they had quit, no one would have faulted them.
But they didn’t.
They all got the care they needed, thanks to Seren and Dave, and they rehabbed, and now, like me and Hottie, they’re getting back in the game. Even though I lost today, I count our run as a huge win. When I look back at my cheering squad—Emerson, Seren, Dave, Catherine, Bea, Killian, and Easton—I can’t help smiling.
It’s funny to me how often in life we think we’ve found the one thing that’s perfect for us. I was sure that jumping Hottie at the Grand Prix level was it. I was sure that the fancy house next to the dump would be the perfect shelter. Sometimes we do the very same thing, but in reverse. I didn’t think I would ever be good enough for someone like Emerson, and he thought he was a Toyota Corolla when I needed a Porsche.
Both of us were wrong about a few things.
Both of us were right about even more.
But when we believe the lie that we’ll never be good enough, then we aren’t. Because the ultimate governor on our own success is our belief in it. Thanks to Emerson, I have much more faith in myself. I may not have the exact life I’ve had in mind at various points, but in so many ways, it’s better than I ever imagined. I have the original shelter I wanted, and it’s got a new influx of people who walk past every single day, many of them hard-working, not-Posh people. And I’m finding that the people who don’t have money often have more room in their hearts for the broken pets and people of this world.
I’m lucky that my sweetheart has room in his heart for me and all my broken animals.
If Emerson and I can find our happily ever after, there’s hope for everyone else, too.