Riding Against The Grain

(And why that doesn’t make you any less of a rider)

There’s a quiet pressure in the horse world—one that’s easy to internalize without even realizing it. Scroll through social media, walk through the warm-up ring, listen to the barn chatter… and you’ll hear it:

“Are you moving up soon?”

“What height are you showing?”

“When’s your next big course?”

And somewhere in all that noise, it’s easy to start believing that bigger always means better. That higher fences are proof of progress. That if you’re not jumping 1.20m or chasing ribbons, you’re falling behind.

But here’s the truth: your worth as a rider isn’t measured in inches.

Jumping high is fun. It’s thrilling, technical, and beautiful to watch. But it’s not the only path to growth—or fulfillment. Sometimes, the bravest, most meaningful work happens in the smallest fences. Or on the flat. Or even on the ground.

Right now, I’m not chasing height. I’m chasing feel. I’m focusing on balance, rhythm, confidence—things you can’t always see in a photo, but that matter so much more than a number on a jump standard.

Some days, that means trotting poles and transitions. Other days, it’s a quiet gymnastic grid, refining my timing and giving Oberon the softest ride I can. And you know what? That work is just as valid. Just as valuable. Just as “real” as anything happening in a Grand Prix ring.

If you needed someone to say it:

You’re not falling behind. You’re building something.

Whether you’re jumping 18 inches or 1.30m—if it’s right for you and your horse, it’s right. Full stop.

So here’s to the low jumps. The quiet wins. The rides that feel good, even if they don’t look impressive to anyone else.

Because high doesn’t always mean better.

And connection will always be higher than any fence.