Rocco, the Healer and the Gift

I have seen a quote floating around that says this,

“ I remember the days I prayed for what I have now.”

Little Girl Ashley is still in disbelief of Grown Up Ashley’s reality: two horses. Two gorgeous, Thoroughbred boys. But that wasn’t ever the plan. That dream of owning just one was fleeting and then just like that, God said, “Here you go.”

Y’all (or most) remember my traumatic fall from Paddy on Mother’s Day, only a month after getting him. 2018 seems like so far behind me and yet it’s still like yesterday. After that fall, I did get back on Paddy, and I was persistent as I tried to become a better rider on him, and become a better rider overall. The truth is though, Paddy in the yard he was living in, was getting more and more aggressive and dangerous to the humans in his life. I’ll never forget when he tore off on a tyrant showing his oats, trying to show all of us in the field “who was boss.” His back hooves came inches from the home owner’s head, and that was it for us. He had become such a liability living in that field with a mare, that I knew he had to go. I also knew that I wasn’t improving in my riding with him. Every spook he had, every time I felt his heart rate pound through him while I sat upon his back, I froze in complete fear. I called my trainer one day after a difficult and scary for me ride, and cried so hard. I told her I thought I had to be done…that this was it, I couldn’t do this.

“Hold on, Ashley,” she said so calmly. (She’s always been my calm since the day I got Paddy basically, and I am so grateful for her still today!) “I think we may have another option horse wise for you…” she said.

We made plans, and I went out to go meet a different horse. ANOTHER tall, chestnut gelding, with a white blaze on his face too. He looked SO similar to Paddy. With his current owner and my trainer we tacked him up and I went for a ride—I cantered freely down a huge open field, we went over some small jumps, and it all came back to me—>I DID know how to ride. I DO know how to ride. The owner told me that she simply wanted him to be loved by a sweet family, one who had kids and who would love him and care for him well. He was a gift to me, and it didn’t take much convincing for me to of course say YES.

So what then, with Paddy? What next? Well, he couldn’t stay where he was, that was for sure. He karate kicked my husband’s thigh, he had charged at he and my children, and he had almost killed the homeowner. Maybe not, but the point was, he couldn’t stay where he was. Little did we know it was just living with a female that had changed him SO much from the Paddy I originally met. . . my trainer suggested keeping him at her farm, and we worked out an arrangement with Rocco to be used as a lesson horse in her program. My board therefore, was a little lighter than expected it may be in moving barn locations. I assumed though, that I would find someone to lease Paddy, or that I would need to find him a new home altogether. I didn’t see how I would ever successfully or confidently be able to ride Paddy. I loved him SO much, and on the ground, he was my heart horse. While I thought I would find him a new home, my heart loved him still so deeply.

I got Paddy in April 2018, and said yes to Rocco in October 2018. Within six months of being brand new to horse ownership…I now had TWO horses!

I began to take lessons on Rocco with my trainer. Before no time, we were trotting, cantering , jumping, and galloping through fields. I started showing him, doing some dressage and jumping. I went trail riding with him at Shelby Trails, I rode him reins free, bridle free, bareback, all of the things. My daughter at first, was obsessed. She would come with me whenever she could, but over time, that changed. It’s okay (I guess..ha), that my kids don’t have the horse gene that I do. They don’t love being at the barn when I go, they bicker and fight and truthfully it’s a lot of work for ME to even have them with me. Especially when they’re together. And these days when Reese comes with me, she gets bored quickly. She’ll ask for a phone or to do her iPad, and I’m left wondering, “how in the world are they my children?” That sounds so harsh, but the truth for me is that it does baffle me how they are so different from me. My friend at the barn says, “It’s okay, Ash, they have their own interests that make them who they are” and I KNOW that’s true. But it’s also hard ;) [I don’t ever want to discredit my family—they have been nothing but supportive of me, a horse crazed girl (woman), and I couldn’t do any of what I’ve done with these horses, without THEM.

The last year, I started feeling the weight of the work and time two horses takes. Last summer as I rode Rocco, I vividly remember thinking, “Maybe I’m not supposed to have two horses anymore…” and then so much guilt and shame and negative thoughts flooded in accusingly saying, “How dare you, Ashley! Why would you ever consider not having both??” Once Paddy normalized, aka hormones went back to normal from living in a field with other geldings, he and I started to grow together again. I started spending time in the round pen with him, doing games and playing and laughing. I began to ride him with my trainer, under supervision at first, and then I got to the place where I could ride him independently. I once thought I’d never be able to canter him through a big and open field, and we’ve now done it many times. He has spooked with me on his back. I have felt his heartbeat anxiously thud beneath me in times he was scared, and yet my fear has dissipated.

Because of Rocco.

Rocco was my healer. My confidence booster. My hero, really, in transforming me as an equestrian. And he has been SO loved by so many other than just me at the barn. His lesson kids love him so much; he’s been used in the summer camp program, and he’s has even done horse shows with kids. Any time he goes to horse shows it seems like people everywhere call out, “Is that Rocco?! It’s Rocco! Awwww, Rocco!” He is so known, and everyone knows how incredible and one of a kind he is. He is patient, tender, loving, and SO smart.

Recently the feeling and thoughts came back, “What if I only had one horse…” Time, money, the kids getting older and busier, it has just felt like a stretch. I dialogued with my trainer and I actually have cried quite a bit at that phrase and nagging question. I kept feeling so much guilt and shame for feeling that way…he was a gift to me, and I didn’t want it to EVER come across that I was ungrateful whatsoever for his Saintly Self. With time and discussion, and LOTS of prayer, I began to feel at peace. Largely because there is a VERY sweet family who has dreamt of having Rocco for several years. These two sweet kids have used him during summer camp the past two summers…after talking with the mom (who is also wife to my horses farrier!) I knew they were his next people.

My gift to them.

My chance to pay it forward. To pass him on.

Nothing will change really, except for ownership. Rocco will now be loved by two little kids whose biggest dreams are to be horse kids. And get this…Rocco has the same birthday as the little boy. Rocco turns twenty on April 9 and Duncan will turn thirteen. How cool and ironic is that?

To those who have blessed me on my journey with my horses (there are so many of you), thank you. Thank you for believing in me, in us, and for never making me feel shamed or less than for downsizing to one horse. I told Paddy recently, “Hey, Buddy… you’re my only horse now, can you believe that…?” As we walked through the field the sun was setting, and I thanked God for the peace He has allowed me to feel. And for the love I have received through SO many in my journey with Rocco.

Without Rocco, I wouldn’t still have Paddy. Without Rocco, I wouldn’t have confidence. Without Rocco, I wouldn’t have experience. Without Rocco, I wouldn’t have trust. Without Rocco, I wouldn’t have the freedom I feel when I am atop either horse. Thank you, Rocco…for being who and what you are.

You were a gift. And you are my healer. Thank you for loving me. For loving your future kids and family. WE ALL LOVE YOU.

xx

Mid Year, Mid Life, Mid 30's?!

That number feels super weird coming out of my mouth. 35. Thirty-FIVE? Officially MID thirties now, right!? Everyone said that ’30’s is awesome,’ buuuut is it….? Let’s see. Maybe reflecting on this phenomona will help me realize it….

I got my first HORSE when I turned 30. Dream come true. 

I lost my dream job I never knew was my dream job (voluntarily, that still counts.) Boo. 

I got diagnosed with MS. Weird. Tough. Kinda shocking.

I got to meet pregnant teens and mamas and establish meaningful and longterm relationships with several of them. What a cool opportunity!! 

We have fallen in love with our church, Northeast Christian, and are meeting new friends. 

I ran my self-made mini marathon in my 30’s all by myself, that was cool. 

I lived through a pandemic in my 30’s. Weird. Sad. Thankful for healthcare.

I started intentional and semi intense therapy for myself, and my marriage, in my 30’s. That’s been eye opening. 

My son got accepted into the best middle school in the district, state really, and I teach there for part of my work day. Pretty darn neat. 

I had some really fun and cool partnerships these past few years, and have done well photography speaking. That’s awesome. 

Had my first spinal tap, suffered immensely from the post lumbar migraine, and I NEVER want to live through that again..

Got a new tattoo on my bday last year, definitely want another. 

Kinda weird, but 35 means a whole new age demographic. I’ve surpassed 25-34 and now I’m in the 35-44 range! It feels weird to tell my students that I’m 35 or that I just had my 35th birthday, in which most say, “You don’t look that old!!” THAT old. 

But you know what? I feel like these days and with SOME things, I’m thinking more clearly. Like I can say, “look, this is me being transparent and honest and this is me.” Facing a brand new medical diagnosis was a huuuuge eye opener for me, and it was also one that showed me the greatness of God. Could I be mad and upset that I HAVE this disease? Sure! But instead I see how vastly He is has worked in my favor. Every time I lift weight and run and ride my horses, I thank Him. So this birthday I have decided that that’s statement I feel for myself regarding turning ‘another year older…’ grateful. Grateful for another year. For my health. For the Lord doing ginormous things in my sometimes mundane life. I am grateful for my family and my friends who surround and love me. There will always be another birthday to freak out about or become weirdly reflective during—but each year I HOPE I can always see how far I’ve come and that I’ll be GRATEFUL for all the steps it took to get there.

The Walls I Need to Break

Walls.

Have you ever built them?

Around your heart, brick by brick, piece by piece?

December 7th I was diagnosed with Muscular Sclerosis. I handled it all with confidence, peace, and a scary level of stone cold, “I’m fine!” to all I’ve talked with. The truth is, I actually have felt ‘fine’ about the diagnosis. It gave me answers as to why so many different instances my ‘skin hurt,’ and it explained why and what my extreme nerve pain was in November. With the best MS team and an aggressive treatment plan, I have felt “fine.”

Suddenly though, I was thinking really terrible things. Things I don’t even feel comfortable typing within this blog post! Most of them centered around my marriage and for his sake, I’ll keep it as vague as I can here for my husband. We had some things come up, arise, and somewhere within me I just felt like giving up. In the past couple of weeks I have said some really hateful and hurtful things; my shortened version will just be transparent about the fact that giving up was legitimately ON my radar. “What if I just wasn’t here anymore?” was one of my scary to admit thoughts.

I told my mom I didn’t think I could cry. Other than with my extreme post spinal tap migraine, I really hadn’t cried. I told her that I’ve had zero reason to feel the way I’ve felt and definitely to have said the things I’ve said, and then it dawned on me……….

Walls.

Within each time I thought about my MS, and every time I told someone I was doing well and fine and good, I was adding more bricks on and around my heart. In the past couple of weeks, I have felt more annoyed as a mom than I can ever remember. I’ve also felt very unhappy in my work situation and being split schools. When my mom has asked how I am, I’ve respond back, “Everything is just meh right now, Mom. All of it.” Gray. Dreary. Muddy. No, I’m not just describing the way January looks in Kentucky—that’s how I have felt internally.

Oh the difficult conversations Asa and I have had. The tears shed, the nights we did indeed need to go to bed angry with hopes of trying again tomorrow. I haven’t wanted to be touched, I haven’t wanted to be hugged, I have wanted to simply be left alone, in my own little brick bubble.

And then? Realization happened. I have always been prone to creating walls. From a young age I have self-sabotaged lots of things, and sadly have hurt people by doing so. (Just ask my ex boyfriend from high school how I ruined OUR relationship…or maybe, actually don’t.) Psychology Today actually describes a lot of different forms of self-sabotage. There’s a paragraph there that discusses control, this may help you the reader, understand it a little more.

It feels better to control your own failure rather than face the possibility of it blindsiding you and taking you by surprise. Self-sabotage may not be pretty, but it’s better than spinning out of control. At least when you’re steering the ship, going down in flames feels more like a well-maintained burn.

Control / failure…two words that pretty accurately describe my ongoing fears, well before MS. I’ve written about fear of failure SO many times here, you may even remember. With MS, what control do I have? Think about it…I was given a serious new diagnosis, I was shown the multitude of lesions on my brain, and then……..I’m fine? “Going down in flames” is a part in that paragraph that describes how I have felt like navigating life. Asa, my patient, loving, gracious husband—even described to me that instead of working on this a little at at time (specifically an area in our life we need to work on), I’ve wanted to just blow it up and quit. He wasn’t wrong.

Walls.

I have had so many of you reach out to me and DM or text. While I haven’t shared super openly what I have been feeling, lots of of you just know:

“Hang in there. Absorbing and processing a new diagnosis takes time. Give yourself all the grace”

It’s only really BEEN a couple of weeks since I have started feeling the familiar feelings of self-sabotage. Asa and I have had some really great and needed quiet moments though, and have talked so openly about this new to ME feelings of nothingness. I don’t think I can ever say that I’ve struggled with depression, but I guess in a sense, I’m walking through it right now. While at the barn I didn’t even feel joy…I felt annoyed with the mud, the amount of time to groom and clean up and do ALL the hard work; but it never has felt like work to me before now? It’s been my therapy, my happy, my peace. So where to from here? Well, my only option is up. For my kids, my husband, my career, my horses—UP.

Recently I could have stayed in bed and just slept. It was the kids’ screen time, a Friday night when they are allowed to stay up later. I contemplated just not moving…just lying there, in the dark. But thank God I made myself get up. That was not who I wanted to turn in to, that was not a chapter of my story I wanted to start writing.. so I swung my feet onto the floor, called out to Reese and played a handful of card games with her. I promised myself I would be strong for them, for all of us. I know that within my strength, I am struggling.

But I also know that with time, prayer, positive actions, and repetition of doing things that I know are healthy for me, the walls one by one will come down, brick by brick.

Thank you for being here in this space and my life. For praying for me and with me. I plead with you to stick around. Don’t let me or my walls keep you out or away. And to my husband, thank you that within your choosing me, you are loving me so wholly and purely.

2023, Here We Go!

2022 started with Asa testing positive for Covid. His Facebook status (which he rarely EVER updates), read this:

For the new year, I thought I’d do something I’ve never done. Tested positive for COVID today. Is it 2023 yet?

To which I responded: 

Hey, don’t wish away our year. 2022 is gonna have crisis, heartache, drama, stress, tears and more. But it’s ALSO going to have laughter, hugs, newness, excitement, and JOY. I love you!!!! I am sooooooo sorry you are so sick and that this break has been prettyyyyyyy miserable. You and we’ve got this!

He responded, “Ashley, it better be good!” and I said (yes, this is a lot of back and forth)... “It might not be? But we can handle anything together.” 

Today was the memory of that status. He scoffingly said, “Boy were you right, Ash!” I remember how I felt this time last year. That 2022 was a new year, I was excited about it, but knew that like all years, there would be challenges that came our way. Did I ever guess that would include being diagnosed with a severe autoimmune disease? Of course not. But NONE of us know the ‘hand we will be dealt,’ right? I feel like every single year for the rest of our forever (here on Earth anyway), is going to guarantee these things: 

Heartache. Laughter. Hope. Despair. Grief. Love. Friendships. Loss. Challenges. Accomplishments. Failure. Achievements. Smiles. Tears. And maybe it’ll all repeat, maybe not? 

And I also know this: If we stay united with Christ, and with each other, it will ALL be okay. So how about 2023? What’s next?

This year I didn’t set any MASSIVE goals. I don’t need to run a certain or set number of miles, I simply want to ‘increase my miles.’ Would I love to run 10-13 miles again without stopping? Sure! Right now I can do a solid 3-4 and I’m happy to maintain that for a little bit, and then I want to pick it up. Since finding out I HAVE MS, that alone has made my workouts way more doable and enjoyable. I find myself thanking God that I CAN do them, whereas before, I took a lot of runs and lifting workouts for granted. 

I also want to make more friends at our church (and really just in general, with Christ loving people.) We’ve attended our church a few years, since the Pandemic really, and while we know a handful of people, we aren’t fully plugged IN, if that makes sense. I am craving deep and meaningful friendship. I was never in a sorority, I don’t live in the same state I grew up in, and frankly since having to move churches several times throughout our marriage, that has made friendship hard! Oh and the fact that I got married as a sophomore in college / 20-year old…ha. Today a neighbor of ours texted, “I know it’s last minute but we are making a charcuterie board and some simple pasta. Would you guys want to come over for dinner?” and I died inside. Kidding–but I was so sad we couldn’t make it! I told my husband this was my dream friendship right in front of me. A charcuterie board, pasta, and amazing people!? YES, PLEASE! PS: Motherhood / Adulting / Friends = tricky to maintain and manage, at least for ME. 

My other hopes for this year are that I will read more, and that I will grow significantly in my walk with God. I want to read more books about Him, learning about His character and who HE is. I want to decrease screen time, and believe we should ALL be doing that. Today our pastor encouraged us that as a congregation, our goals should have rhythms AND restrictions, and I couldn’t agree more. For instance:

*Rhythms: daily prayerful engagement with Scripture 

*Restrictions: limit quality and quantity of screen intake 

Nothing was huge or out of the norm as far as setting my goals for 2023. I have seen how EASY it is to walk away, and I do not want to do that. I long for our family to be so deeply rooted in Christ loving friendships and community, and that together we will be rooted in Him. No one said the year will be easy, and it won’t be. But as I said above, if we stay united with Christ, and with each other, it will ALL be okay. (My dad loves to say, “It’ll all be good,” and it makes me smile.)

(Does this feel like a big, giant spoken ‘prove me wrong’ God, to anyone else?? I tend to be on the superstitious side sometimes, where I am scared to say things aloud because then they so freakishly HAPPEN?? That I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t kinda freaked myself out with this post.) 

What about you, Friend? Wanna share your 2023 goals with me? Feel free to email me or find me on Insta to connect and say hello! Whatever your aspirations are, I pray you well and thank you for sticking around in my little corner of the internet!