I got out of the car slowly and trudged up the stairs one step at a time until I reached the back door. Heaving a huge sigh, I slowly pushed the door open and entered the kitchen. As I close the door, I catch a glimpse of my husband at the stove preparing dinner. Characteristically, my dogs make a wild dash to greet me. Wanda, has grabbed the nearest shoe and proceeds to whip me with her tail, while she softly woofs a greeting. Bella, runs and hops around both of us, showing off her favorite bone. I pat both of them and en masse we move into the living room. Heaving another sigh, I put down my riding gear and work bag. Then I pry the shoe out of Wanda’s mouth and give Bella another pat. Only then do I return to the kitchen and properly greet my husband.

“How was your lesson?” He looks over his shoulder to find me leaning against the cabinets.

Sigh. “Hard. Really hard.” I’ve ducked my head to hide the tears welling up in my eyes. Then I move to the opposite side of the kitchen so he can access the trash.

“Kicked your butt, huh?” He’s plating our dinner while I grab our drinks and the silverware.

“Yeah.” I turn around to find him looking at me quizzically and sigh again. “I hate my body.” I look down at said body. “I hate my butt. I hate my legs and I hate my arms.” Don’t worry, he’s been around me long enough to know that this is the obligatory ‘my body sucks’ rant of his horse crazed wife. I notice that he’s struggling to hide a smile as I continue my rant. “Do you hear me butt?” I point at my butt to emphasize my point. Yes, the dreading finger pointing. “Legs? arms? I hate you!” I’ve pointed at each of them in turn.

My husband chuckles, “That bad, huh?”

“Yes! I can’t even sit right.” Sensing my anguish the dogs have returned. I pat them both and they follow me into the dining room where I set the items down on the table. I return to the kitchen and our conversation. “I keep tipping forward and even though I’m sitting, I’m NOT sitting. My legs are gripping and popping me out of the saddle and then my arms straighten and…and… Grr! I hate my body. I hate it.”

Dinner was a fairly silent affair as I wallowed in self pity and mentally reviewed my lesson again and again.

Later in the evening, Bella, offers me comfort. I’m sitting on the floor and she presses her head into my chest. In turn, I stroke her chest and place my head on top of her back. A mutual hug that we both enjoy. So comforting and nice.

Several days later, I’m still reviewing the lesson. It wasn’t all bad. It’s just that my perception at the time was focused on it. I had some wonderful cantering moments and trot/almost walk/trot transitions and shoulder in and… Well, you get the idea. All these wonderful moments because I, uh, because I sat correctly. Yes, that’s right. I sat correctly. See? I can sit. Sometimes.

Conclusion
Yesterday, I announced that I need more horse time. I must be crazy because this can’t be logical. Riding drove me to wallow in self pity and the cure? More riding of course! Yep, crazy.

My husband even suggested that I pick up another lesson or maybe some practice rides. Hmm, he’s encouraging my craziness, why? Because my angst has become a topic of conversation and laughter with his coworkers. Imagine that! It’s not bad enough that I blog about it, he talks about it. With his coworkers! Gasp.

God, I love him.

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