The first time I heard the words "therapeutic horseback riding" I was at a support playgroup meeting for my son, Matthew, who has Asperger Syndrome. I was there for my son so he could have some fun with his peers and did not think that I would learn something to help myself. Married and the mother of six children, I was born three months premature and diagnosed with cerebral palsy when I was about 2 years old. When I was younger I was much more mobile and could walk unaided most of the time and was not as dependent on people or things—such as walkers and wheelchairs—in order to get around. Somewhere along the way my ability to balance declined considerably.

At the support playgroup meeting I was sitting on a couch, having coffee, next to a woman I had never met before. As we chatted I found out that Jo happened to work for United Cerebral Palsy. During our conversation I asked her if she knew of any exercise I might try that would help me with my balance. The first words out of her mouth were "therapeutic horseback riding". Yeah, right. How could someone who had no balance get on a horse and learn balance? She tried to explain the dynamics of it all, but I was skeptical. I was kind of hoping that she would have suggested something a little closer to the ground! As soon as I heard the words "therapeutic horseback riding" though, it was if a light bulb went on in my head—the words and the idea wouldn’t go away and the light wouldn’t go out.

A friend later suggested that it wouldn’t hurt to make one phone call and find out about the therapeutic riding program in our community. I ratinalized that I wouldn’t actually have to get up on a horse to do that. Winslow Therapeutic Riding was about four miles away from home, so I picked up the phone. I spoke to Mickey, the Winslow program coordinator, and told her about myself and expressed my fears. She assured me that they hadn’t lost anyone yet—and there would be side walkers to keep an eye on me if I started to slip or fall. OK, but what about the money to pay for the expensive lessons? I was secretly hoping that if I couldn’t pay for the lessons then I was off the hook, right? Wrong! Mickey told me that I could probably get a grant from the township I lived in. But what about transportation to the farm? I don’t drive (another one of my fears) so I would need to find friends or neighbors to drive me to my lesson each week. Again I thought, "Well, if I can’t get a ride, then it won’t be my fault." As you can see I was trying to think of any and all reasons not to get on a horse. But eventhoug my fear was great, that light inside my head kept glowing and gently nagging at me. It wouldn’t let up.

Well, things fell into place so easily. I felt that I was meant to give this a try. My counselor just happened to know someone who volunteered at Winslow. I gave him a call and he was more than happy to pick me up and take me to the farm and show me around. I could get an idea of how things worked and feel more at ease. When I was there I was able to watch a lesson. I saw a young man, who had even greater physical problems, get on a horse and have a lesson. That was encouraging! If he could do it, then why couldn’t I?