After a little while, my lessons increased to twice a week, and then the woman giving the lessons gave my parents the name of a trainer who would be able to take my riding to the next level. I moved to another barn and started training there. I didn't have my own horse, but was allowed to use my trainer's horses.
After moving barns, I met a lot of new friends and my life revolved around the ranch. On weekends, my parents would drop me off for an 8:00 or 9:00 am lesson and I would spend the rest of the day just hanging out, calling them about 5:00 PM to come back and pick me up, still wearing my barn clothes and riding boots. By the time I got home, my boots had become one with my legs and my dad would literally drag me off the couch and around the living room floor trying to get them off my feet. Good times!
I still didn't have my own horse, but begged on a daily basis to get one.
I started showing my trainer's horses when I was about 9. Horseshows took up the weekend. Saturday was spent prepping for the show - bathing and braiding the horses, cleaning the tack, gathering the supplies, and putting everything into the trailer. We had to get up bright and early to be back at the ranch about 6:00 in the morning so we could load the horses into the trailer and arrive at the horseshow which usually began at 8:00 am and lasted all day.
Here I am riding Lady, one of my trainer's horses.
Here I am riding Cleo.It was great that I was given the opportunity to ride and show other people's horses, but I wanted a horse of my own so badly that it hurt. I would come home from the barn, go to my room, stare at my Duran Duran posters and cry for hours about it. A couple of my close friends at the barn had their own horses and I would talk about them constantly. Finally, my parents gave in.