Through a Different Lens
By Madi Hunter
Life changes, and I feel as though that couldn’t be more relevant in the equestrian world. Whether it’s due to injury, finances, family, or just plain old wants-and-needs, there’s always something waiting around the corner. Learning to embrace these changes and make them a part of the dance is what allows us to continue our journey with these incredible creatures.
As I step into a reflection on my own personal journey with horses and how the many different roles I have taken on over the years have shaped me, I invite you to reflect on your own path as a horse lover and all the changes that you have gone through to be where you are now.
I was not born in a barn, but I made my way there as quickly as I could. One week at summer camp blossomed (read: exploded) into a lifelong passion that will always keep me on my toes. That one summer quickly gave way to weekly lessons and volunteering to muck out stalls, and I spent every hour I could manage at the barn from elementary through high school: catch riding, taking feeding shifts, guiding trail rides, running summer camp games, and teaching lessons.
After my first decade in an all-consuming horse world, I purchased my first horse, graduated high school, and went on to become a working student for a top eventing rider. A year after my first working student position and after deciding to forgo the college option, I would go on to work for a number of other prominent riders while traveling up and down the east coast.
While I was a working student, I had also been building up a small grooming business on the side, and after a few years, I decided to expand and open up a boarding and training operation of my own. My first taste of entrepreneurship would last a handful of years, and bring on challenges that I never could have prepared myself for. It was also the greatest adventure of my life, and brought a lot of really special relationships with both two- and four-legged friends.
A few too many knocks to the head, a couple of broken bones, and some metal plates later, I was told that I needed to “medically retire” because my brain was at risk of serious damage if I were to get another concussion. I listened to the doctor — for maybe the first time in my life — and I hung up my spurs for what I thought would be forever. I sold my horse and everything else “horsey” that I owned, down to the very last curry comb. I was exhausted, in pain, and ready to find something else that would give me the same non-stop goosebumps.
Looking back, it was rather silly of me to think that I could just bow out so quickly, but thankfully, my spurt without horses didn’t last very long. I can’t say for certain when I started to feel the call back to the barn, but I know I didn’t even last a full year out of the saddle before I was itching for face-to-face time with a horse. My need to be back in the barn, and to heal whatever part of me had decided to “quit” horses, led me to being the office manager at a beloved local lesson barn. This barn is where I would put my boots back in the irons, but it is also the place where I discovered my creative side. My role as office manager also had me managing their growing social media accounts, where I was able to combine my love of horses, humor, and connection.
Now, after what seems like a thousand different changes within my equestrian journey, I am a full-time photographer and business owner. I am quite literally seeing the horse world through a different lens, one that I believe is a bit more well-rounded than the one I started with. Horses are beautiful, fragile, funny, loving, and incredibly wonderful teachers if we allow them to be.
I learned a lot from each and every one of my adventures, but I don’t think many of those lessons hit home until I was “grounded” — or until I was behind the camera. It’s easy for me to look through my lens now and see the greatness that is the horse — to see the hard work (literal blood, sweat, and tears) that goes into a horse and rider’s competition phases, the bond between a pair that’s known each other for years, the nerves behind the start box, the excitement in a new equestrian’s eyes when they pet their first pony, the exhaustion in the slump of a trainer’s shoulders. I can see it all clearly now because they all used to be me, in some way or another.
From behind a literal camera lens, I can say that I have a new appreciation for horses and the equestrian community, more than I ever did before. I searched, but I don’t think there’s anything out there that will ever give me goosebumps the way horses do. Whether that’s riding, grooming, or just getting to capture their beauty from a distance.
It is not uncommon to get caught up in the grind of daily barn chores and training and lose sight of the reason we all started in the first place. I was stuck there before, and still get stuck there now in different ways, but taking horses away allowed me to see just how much they mean to me.
