Horse riding and the real ride of mental resilience

By Charlene Carroll

Opening scene: the pause after the fall. It’s a sound riders know too well—the thud of earth meeting bone, the sharp exhale, the rustle of hooves retreating. For a moment, everything is still. And in that stillness, fear often sets in. Not just fear of injury, but fear of what comes next. Will I get back on? Do I still trust my body? Do I still trust my horse?

In equestrian culture, there’s a familiar phrase: “It’s ok to fall—it’s the getting back on that matters.” And yet, we rarely talk about how hard that “getting back on” can truly be. The truth is, mental resilience in the saddle is just as critical as any physical skill. And it’s time we gave it the space it deserves.

Fear is not weakness, it’s part of the journey

Whether it’s your first tumble or your fiftieth, fear can follow you into the arena, the yard, even your dreams. And it’s not always about falling. Sometimes it’s fear of failing in competition, fear of disappointing your trainer, fear of letting your horse down.

But fear is not a flaw. It’s biology. It’s your body’s way of keeping you safe. The key isn’t to banish it, it’s to work with it. To understand where it’s coming from, acknowledge its presence, and ride on anyway.

For many riders, this emotional processing is where the real work begins. And for some, it’s the moment they consider stepping away altogether. That’s why normalising fear and speaking openly about it is so important. Because fear doesn’t disqualify you from being a rider. In fact, some of the most accomplished equestrians out there will tell you they still feel fear. They’ve just learned how to ride through it.

From the ground up, rebuilding confidence after a fall

There’s no one-size-fits-all path back into the saddle. But experts agree that gentle exposure, positive reinforcement, and reflection are powerful tools for recovery.

Start small. That might mean leading your horse in-hand for a few days. It might mean walking on the lunge before you pick up the reins solo. It might mean changing arenas or riding a steadier horse. The point is to rebuild trust between you and your horse, but also within yourself.

It can also help to talk. Riders who’ve experienced similar setbacks are often the most empathetic supporters. Mental health professionals with experience in equestrian sport can provide structured strategies to process fear and avoid falling into patterns of avoidance or catastrophising.

When the mind rides too

While fear is one entry point into the conversation, it’s only one thread in the complex fabric of rider mental health. Pressure, perfectionism, burnout, competition anxiety, loneliness, grief – the riding life can bring joy, but also challenge the spirit.

Many riders push through, believing that toughness is part of the job. But emotional suppression can do more harm than good. The truth is, horses feel us. A rider holding unresolved tension, sadness, or stress can create a feedback loop that unsettles even the calmest horse. On the other hand, a rider who’s present, emotionally aware, and grounded, creates a partnership rooted in trust and stability.

And it’s not just elite competitors feeling the pressure. Young riders, recreational riders, and even parents supporting their children can struggle silently. Social media often adds to the burden, with curated highlight reels that unintentionally fuel self-doubt or comparison.

Riding as therapy but also needing therapy

The irony isn’t lost on anyone who’s found solace in the saddle: horses can heal us. They mirror our moods, ask for presence, and offer connection without words. Time in the stable or on a quiet hack can soothe anxiety and help regulate emotions in ways few other sports allow.

This has given rise to equine-assisted therapy, where horses are part of structured programmes supporting people with anxiety, trauma, depression, and more. The benefits are real, they include lower cortisol, increased confidence, improved emotional regulation.

But even though riding can be therapeutic, riders still need support. It’s okay to love your horse and still feel overwhelmed. It’s okay to use riding as an outlet and still benefit from talking to someone. 

Being a horse person doesn’t mean you have to be invincible.

Strategies to support mental strength

So what does it look like to build mental resilience in a sustainable, compassionate way?

It starts with awareness. Checking in with yourself before and after rides. Noticing patterns, for example when your nerves are high, when your motivation dips, what kinds of situations trigger anxiety or stress.

Then comes the toolkit. For some, it’s breathing techniques before a round. For others, it’s journalling rides to reflect on progress. Mental skills coaches often recommend visualisation, affirmations, and performance routines to create a sense of control and calm.

But perhaps the most powerful strategy is giving yourself permission. Permission to rest. Permission to say “not today.” Permission to love the sport and still find it hard. Because mental strength isn’t just about pushing through, it’s about knowing when to pause and regroup.

Creating space for open conversations

As a community, we need to do better. We need to create space in tack rooms and on the sidelines for honest conversations about mental well-being. We need to celebrate courage, not just rosettes. We need to look out for the quiet ones, the overachievers, the brave faces who may be struggling inside.

This could be as simple as checking in with a teammate. Or hosting a yard discussion about mindset and pressure. Or inviting a sports psychologist to your Pony Club meeting. When we normalise these conversations, we make it easier for the next rider to speak up and the one after that to heal.

The ride continues

Every rider has a story. A fall. A wobble. A moment when they thought they couldn’t go on. What matters is what came next. The slow rebuilding. The quiet courage. The decision to get back on, even when their hands were shaking.

Because riding isn’t about perfection. It’s about partnership. It’s about heart. And most of all, it’s about resilience – not the kind that grits its teeth and pushes pain aside, but the kind that listens inward, adapts, and grows stronger in the saddle.

So if you’ve fallen, literally or emotionally, know this: you’re not alone. Fear is part of the ride. But so is joy. So is connection. And when you’re ready, the saddle will be waiting.