10/02/2026
👍 yes!
Whose Feelings Are These Anyway?😒
When Your Horse's Anxiety Becomes Your Anxiety
Yesterday, in Part 2 of Horse-Human Emotional Entanglement (HHEE), I explored the Animal Lover's Dilemma: what happens when our perfectly reasonable desire not to harm our horse quietly morphs into a belief that a good horse owner should never make their horse uncomfortable.
Today I want to go one step further, because there is another mammal involved in this relationship, and unfortunately it has opinions, childhood experiences, insecurities and access to social media.
US.🫣
Imagine your horse becomes anxious. His head comes up, his muscles tighten and his attention locks onto something in the distance. You notice immediately because you know your horse well.
Then your stomach tightens. Your breathing changes. You become hyperaware of him. Perhaps you shorten the lead rope. Perhaps you start reassuring him. Perhaps your brain begins rapidly searching through its extensive catalogue of Things That Could Go Horribly Wrong.⚠
Your horse notices that you have changed.
He becomes more anxious.🚨
You notice that he has become more anxious.🔄
Congratulations. We now have two anxious mammals, each monitoring the other for evidence that there is definitely something to be anxious about.😱
This is where psychology gives us a useful distinction between "empathic concern" and "personal distress".
Empathic concern is essentially: You're struggling and I care about what is happening to YOU.🫵
Personal distress is closer to: You're struggling, and watching you struggle is now making ME uncomfortable.😫
Both can happen at the same time.
That distinction matters enormously with horses because once ANOTHER individual's distress becomes sufficiently uncomfortable for US, we can become highly motivated to make their distress disappear.
Not necessarily because we have carefully determined that stopping is what the horse needs, but because when the horse settles WE feel better too.
This doesn't make us selfish or uncaring. It makes us human. But it does mean that sometimes what feels like empathy may contain a rather inconvenient second ingredient: our own need for emotional relief.🥲
Some people are particularly good at monitoring the emotional weather around them. They notice tone, posture, facial expression, silence and tension. They can walk into a room and know Susan is furious with Barry despite Susan insisting she is "fine" while putting teaspoons into the dishwasher with unusual force.😕
That sensitivity can be an extraordinary strength.
But sometimes noticing becomes monitoring, monitoring becomes responsibility, and responsibility becomes:
"Everyone needs to be okay before I can be okay."🥺
Then we buy a horse.
A species capable of communicating mild dissatisfaction through approximately 746 combinations of ears, nostrils, tails, feet and facial expressions.
Suddenly our emotional monitoring system has found its dream job.
The horse raises his head. Noted. Tail swish. Definitely noted. Ear back. Oh dear. Horse moves away. Interesting. Horse looks at us.
Oh God.🤯
This is where HHEE can begin quietly running the show.
We become so attentive to maintaining the horse's emotional equilibrium that their discomfort starts controlling our behaviour. We reassure, accommodate, retreat, change the exercise, reduce expectations or otherwise try to make everything nice again.
I call this smoothing.😔
Smoothing isn't inherently wrong. A skilled horseperson may recognise that a horse is overwhelmed and deliberately reduce the difficulty. That is good horsemanship.
The difference is whether I changed my approach because I learned something important about the HORSE, or because the horse's reaction created something uncomfortable in ME.🫣
That distinction can be remarkably difficult to see from inside ourselves.
It is also why I am cautious about the idea that being highly sensitive to horses automatically makes someone particularly good at understanding them.
Sensitivity tells us that something changed.
It doesn't necessarily tell us WHY.😎
I can correctly notice that my horse has become aroused and incorrectly decide he is frightened. I can notice resistance and call it trauma when the horse is actually confused. I can interpret frustration as fear, learned behaviour as an emotional boundary, or pain as disobedience.
Feeling something strongly doesn't make my interpretation accurate.
Sometimes it just allows me to be wrong with tremendous conviction.
The skill I want us to develop is something different: emotional differentiation.
My horse can be frightened without me becoming frightened about his fear. He can be frustrated without me urgently needing his frustration to disappear. He can dislike something I am doing without me immediately concluding that I am doing something wrong.
That doesn't mean becoming cold or detached.
It means remaining sufficiently separate from the horse's emotional experience that I still have room to think.💪
So today's HHEE question is:
"When my horse becomes emotional, can I remain curious about what is happening, or do I immediately need to make the feeling go away❓"
Because perhaps our horses don't need us to prove how deeply we understand their anxiety by joining them in it.
Sometimes the kindest thing we can offer a worried horse is one nervous system that hasn't joined the emergency.💪
Tomorrow, in Part 4, we cross to the other end of the lead rope and ask what all this emotional smoothing might actually feel like to the horse.
Collectable Advice 304/365
If this made you recognise yourself, please consider hitting SHARE. Somewhere out there, another deeply caring horse owner may currently be trying to calm their horse, calm themselves and remember what on earth they own a horse - an that to me is really sad, because there is a way out of this dynamic.❤
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