I Am Not a Sport
When I was a kid I was the stereotypical “horse girl.” Like to a perfect T. Most of the people in my grade knew me more for my horse t-shirts instead of my name. For as long as I can remember, I built my image and self worth around being the “horse girl,” and as I got older, I transitioned from a horse-obsessed child into an athlete, with several accolades and minor injuries to prove it. By the time I reached high school, much to my parents' dismay, I had decided that I wanted to train and ride horses as a career and I thought nothing could stop me. In August of 2016, at the start of my senior year of high school, I had never been riding better, and everything was lining up for me to ride in college. I could not have been more excited about what the coming months would entail. And then, in a split second, everything changed. While completing a simple maneuver (flying lead change), I was maybe an inch out of position and I heard a loud pop like opening a bag of chips. While I knew instantly that something was wrong, it wasn’t until several rounds of x-rays and an MRI later that realized exactly what I had done.