Meeting the Healing Herd of Horses

If you had told me years ago that horses would change my life, I probably would’ve laughed. Not because I didn’t believe in their beauty or strength, but because I simply didn’t know. I didn’t know how deeply they could heal. I didn’t know how much they could teach. And I definitely didn’t know how much I had to learn about trust, presence, and letting go.

Our journey with horses didn’t begin with me—it began with our daughter.

At just four years old, she fell in love with horses. That kind of innocent, head-over-heels, all-consuming love. We supported her passion the best we could as a young enlisted military family, but it wasn’t until we settled here in Western North Carolina that her dream truly came to life. She’s now almost 15, and horses are still her everything. She even chose to homeschool so she could finish her academic work early and spend more time in the barn—training, caring, connecting.

If it weren’t for her, we likely never would’ve had horses in our lives. And I never would’ve discovered just how much I needed them.

As a military spouse for so many years, I developed a strong sense of control. I had to. It was how I coped—how I held our world together when deployments and uncertainty became our norm. But control has a funny way of building walls around you, especially when it becomes your default mode.

Enter the horses.

In the beginning, I approached riding the way I approached everything else: tightly wound, constantly planning five steps ahead, trying to manage every possible outcome. I’d look down, worry about the terrain, grip the reins a little too tightly—because control, to me, meant safety.

But horses don’t respond to control. They respond to energy, to intention, to clarity, and to presence. They’re masters at reading the unspoken. They mirror our emotions and reflect our inner world in ways that no human could. And it didn’t take long for me to realize that in order to truly connect with a horse, I had to let go. I had to soften. I had to trust—not just them, but myself.

That shift changed everything.

Now, I spend time each day not just caring for our horses, but learning from them. Our Healing Herd of Horses here at the Special Liberty Project teaches us—every veteran, every spouse, every Military Widow—that healing isn’t about fixing, it’s about feeling. It’s about being in the moment. It’s about showing up authentically and allowing the relationship to unfold, free of judgment.

This is the heart of Equine-Assisted Learning (EAL)—a powerful, evidence-informed approach to personal growth and emotional wellness. Unlike traditional riding lessons or therapy, EAL focuses on the relationship between horse and human. It’s not about horsemanship skills or diagnoses; it’s about awareness, communication, boundaries, and trust.

At the Special Liberty Project, we use the COASTER model (developed by our friends at Strides to Success) in our equine sessions, which provides a gentle framework:

• Check-In – How are you really doing today?

• Opening – What’s our focus, and what are the horses showing us already?

• Activity – Hands-on interaction, whether it’s leading, grooming, or navigating an obstacle course.

• Shift – What emotions or patterns are coming up?

• Try Again – How can we do this differently?

• Evaluation – What did you notice? What changed?

• Reflect – What insight are you taking with you?

These steps help participants explore trust, communication, emotional regulation, and more—skills that are often deeply impacted by military life, trauma, or loss.

Every retreat we host—whether for Gold Star widows, veteran spouses, or grieving mothers—is rooted in the belief that healing happens when we feel safe, seen, and supported. And time and time again, our Healing Herd of Horses offers that in the most gentle, powerful ways.

As the facilitator of these retreats and workshops, I’m honored to walk alongside so many incredible women who have loved and lost, served and supported. Whether it’s a moment of connection during a grooming session, or a breakthrough in a quiet corner of the paddock, the horses hold space in a way that allows participants to process grief, rediscover trust, and begin to find their way back to themselves.

It’s no exaggeration to say that this herd has been life-changing. They’ve softened my edges. They’ve helped me step out of protection mode and into something far more expansive: connection, trust, and presence. And they continue to do the same for every soul who walks into the barn, unsure of what they’ll find but open to what they need.

So yes, it started with our daughter. But now, this Healing Herd of Horses is part of our family’s story—and the Special Liberty Project’s mission—forever. And I’m endlessly grateful that they chose us.