10/06/2026
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how lonely owning your own business can be.
And I don’t mean lonely because you don’t have people.
I have amazing employees, incredibly supportive clients, and a wonderfully enthusiastic barn owner who I’ve been through a lot with and who feels like family.
But you can have wonderful people around you and still feel very alone in the responsibility of knowing that, ultimately, the buck stops with you.
And I think that’s the part people don’t always see.
When you own a horse business, there’s really no such thing as just having a bad day and shutting it all down.
The horses still need to be fed, turned out, and mucked.
Horses still need to be ridden and lessons still need to be taught — not only because that’s what pays the bills, but because it’s the passion, too. It’s the support and development I want to give my clients.
The weather still has to be watched.
Someone still needs to answer the client who is worried about their horse.
The vet still needs to be called. The farrier still needs to be scheduled.
The grain has to be ordered. The hay and straw quantities have to be determined and budgeted for.
Payroll still needs to be covered, regardless of whether bad weather means a bad-income month, or an unexpected repair bill comes along that makes you choke.
And employees need to be looked out for, too. They need to be encouraged to take time off when they need it. Because if my dream stresses me, that’s one thing. But my dream cannot be allowed to become their burden. That’s not fair to them.
Something is always breaking, needing fixing, running late, costing more than you expected, or requiring a decision.
Keeping the business moving forward while also making sure the day-to-day doesn’t fall apart is, frankly, exhausting.
And it’s a constant learning curve. Being frequently reminded of all the things you don’t know can be a real gut punch to your confidence.
And then there’s the stuff you try so hard to carve out time for and sometimes struggle to prioritize: your own development as a rider and trainer, your own goals in and out of the show ring, and dedicated time with your own horses.
I know myself well enough to know that if I don’t prioritize those things, eventually the level of stress and sacrifice required to run this business won’t be worth it.
My business is designed to support other people’s dreams. But the purpose of having a business is, frankly, to support my own, too.
I love what I do. I really do. I love the horses. I love the people. I love my employees. I love this business, and I love the life I’ve built.
But loving it doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy sometimes.
This post isn’t meant to feel like a complaint, and it certainly isn’t me waving the white flag.
If anything, I think it’s the opposite. It’s an acknowledgment that building something you care deeply about is both incredibly rewarding and incredibly hard.
There are days when I feel confident and capable, and there are days when I feel like I’m making twelve decisions at once and hoping I got at least ten of them right.
There are days when I’m proud of how far this business has come, and days when I wonder how on earth I’m going to get everything done.
But I’m learning that those things can coexist.
You can be grateful and exhausted.
You can be proud and overwhelmed.
You can love what you’ve built and still admit that carrying it can feel heavy.
And maybe that’s the part of entrepreneurship we don’t talk about enough - the weight of caring so much.
Because at the end of the day, this is my dream. And even when it feels heavy, I wouldn’t trade it for someone else’s.
💙💜💙
