I started riding at age four, although I began begging for lesson at age three. I settled for a year of ballet to settle the wait before the start of my lessons. I am now quickly approaching age 22, and I am still the same horse-obsessed little girl inside. I remember my dad telling me, five or six years ago, that he never got me into any A-rated shows, or ‘big shows,’ as I’ve called them, because he thought I would ‘grow out of it.’ Raise your hand if you’re a horse girl who’s heard that once or a hundred times.

Below is a list of a few symptoms of my obsession – none of which I ever want to lose.

I never want to:

1. Not crane my neck to see inside when I pass a horse trailer on the road.

2. Stop receiving the many horse knick knacks I’m gifted on the regular by the many people who see my obsession.

3. Quit wearing horse clothes out and about an pretending like the people who stare have any idea how nice you’re actually dressed.

4. Lose the excitement I feel when the JC Penny’s-like Dover catalogue arrives in the mail.

5. Forget the acronym, ‘All King Victor Edward’s Show Horses Can Make Really Big Purple Fences.

6. Become uncomfortable talking about a horse’s open wound, thrush smell, or abnormal manure at the dinner table.

7. Stop risking my life mounting a huge animal regularly.

Honestly, I don’t even want people to stop coming up to me and telling me about their distant relationship who rides horses or that they once participated in a group trail ride. Sometimes it’s annoying, but I’m so glad that I’m not the only one obsessed with the best creature in the world.