When I was young, I had the greatest fascination with horses. I had an EPIC collection of model horses and my dad even built me a small stable. My sister and her friend broke that stable. I got over it. Mostly. Right now, the tour has brought me to Bloomington, Indiana. Driving through the fields I can only think of “Wild Horses” by The Rolling Stones.
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away
Wild, wild horses we’ll ride them some day”
One of my favorite books/movie was the tale of Misty of the Chincoteague. It’s a fictional story based on the actual wild horses that live on Assateague Island. I just loved that they were wild and free with no one to answer to. I also loved the movie Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. Spirit couldn’t be tamed by any man. He did form a friendship with a Native American, but I will let you go check it out on Netflix.
Horses always fascinated me because they were these strong and beautiful creatures. For centuries men have used horses mainly as working supplies. This always bothered me because of their beauty and strength. I guess when I was younger I felt like a horse. Beautiful, duh, strong, but somehow kept captive. I was so restless and wanted to break free.
I imagine every child has this feeling, and riding through the Indiana fields just brought it back. Don’t get me wrong, I had an incredible childhood that you can read all about in my upcoming memoir. Shameless plug. What I’m trying to say is now that I’m an adult, living my dreams and traveling the country - I am that horse I wanted to be.
I’m a Mustang on an open field with my mane blowing in the wind. There’s nothing to stop me or hold me back. In a way it’s the most frightening thing I’ve felt, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.