Recently, a friend and I were discussing our journey as horsewomen thus far. She and I both have older, retired mares who helped us take our riding careers to the next level and realize many of our dreams, as well as 2-year-old geldings we hope will be our riding futures. We’re at an interesting place in our lives, riding-wise. We’ve been discussing what we wish we knew with our mares during their careers, what we did wrong with them and their predecessors in our lives, and how we want to do better with our young horses as they grow up.

Horsemanship and riding are, of course, lifelong learning journeys. I have 20-some odd years of experience and can look back at myself five, 10 or 15 years ago and realize how little I knew, despite thinking I had it all figured out at times. I suspect in 10 more years, I’ll feel the same way about my current self. I try to keep a student mentality and a humble, open mind as much as I can.

But I often think about all the horses I rode and cared for as the breadth of my knowledge was still developing in certain crucial areas: the horses with whom I made the mistakes I can now learn from. Take my horse Chai, for example. Chai joined my family in 2008 when he was 8 and I had just turned 14. We dabbled in the local hunters before making the switch to try our hand at dressage a few years later. Neither of us knew a thing about our new sport of choice.

I absolutely cringe when I think about this period of transition. Chai, an off-track Thoroughbred without much of an idea how to bend and a perpetually stiff neck and back, had been a happy camper in his previous career as a low-level hunter. I’d never really picked up much rein contact and had maintained a pretty light seat as he packed me around little courses. He was, understandably, less than thrilled as I began riding with a too-tight contact with unforgiving, pulling hands to attempt to achieve the “on the bit” status I believed was coterminous with dressage. I rode him in draw reins with little to no idea how to do so kindly, pleased when he finally flexed at the poll and gave me the desired “look” my uneducated eye equated with success in this new discipline.

Chai has always been an incredibly genuine guy. He did not know what I was asking for, and I imagine he was in pain as he tried to figure it out, but bless his heart, he tried. My barnmates and I would laugh about the fact that Chai simply hated dressage and wanted to return to his “easier” hunter life. I want to yell into a megaphone in my teenage self’s ear that no, Chai didn’t hate dressage, Chai hated being ridden in such an unkind, unclear way. Luckily for him, I more or less gave up on my dressage dreams for him after a year or so and switched to my mom’s horse for my last year before college.

I think about Chai’s journey often. If anyone had a right to hold a grudge and tell me off back in those early days, it was him. What a kind, gracious horse he was to suffer through me riding him like that as I learned to do better. I like to think karma is rewarding him with the lap-of-luxury retirement he’s living at my parents’ farm now.

I know better now. I would never ride in draw reins again (to each their own, but I just don’t have any place for them in my personal training philosophy). I have devoted the last decade-plus to expanding my education in both dressage and general horsemanship. I am a far more empathetic horse woman now with a clear understanding of the true, classical nature of dressage and an open mind that acknowledges there is always more to learn. I’ve done increasingly better by each subsequent horse I’ve ridden, leased or owned. I’ve still made plenty of mistakes, which I take note of and try never to replicate.

This year, I’m not riding much at all. It’s my mare Dixie’s first year of retirement, and my 2-year-old gelding Scotch is at least a year away from any under saddle work. I spend a lot of time reading about horsemanship and training methods, as well as auditing clinics and seeking out educational opportunities wherever I can. I’ve registered for the U.S. Dressage Federation ‘L’ Program this winter. I want to know as much as I can, so I can do the best that I can. I want Scotch to have the kindest, most systematically classical and correct upbringing and training I can give him.

Yes, education is a lifelong pursuit, and sometimes that means learning from the mistakes we make that might have inflicted discomfort, confusion or pain on our horses. It’s the unfortunate nature of a sport that involves living beings. In the midst of today’s ongoing discussions of equine welfare across all disciplines, I think it’s paramount that riders of all ages, levels and experiences continually educate themselves and reflect upon mistakes they’ve made in and out of the saddle. I see and hear lots of defensiveness about training methods, that they were perhaps one-time isolated incidents or “moments in time” captured out of context. I get that, and that may be the case.

But I think the disconnect is in excusing those one-time incidents and moments in time and simply moving on. Riders and trainers need to own those mistakes and acknowledge them as such. We’re all human; no one rides perfectly kindly 100 percent of the time. But the more that riders understand how and why they made those erroneous training decisions or rode less than kindly, the more riders can learn not to duplicate those mistakes and do better by their horses.

Horses are ridiculously kind creatures who put up with things they don’t have to. They largely want to please humans and lack the capacity to purposely misbehave. I implore everyone to accept their own faults and mistakes, understand how they can do better, and thank their horses for their tremendous patience as we seek the clearest, kindest methods of communication. Protecting horses’ welfare is the cornerstone of our sport—may we never lose collective sight of that.

Laura Adriaanse is an avid amateur dressage rider and USDF bronze medalist. She has three horses: Dixie Rose, a 20-year-old Hanoverian mare; Solidarity LJS, a 2-year-old Hanoverian gelding; and Change of Heart, a 24-year-old Thoroughbred gelding. She currently resides in Wilmington, Delaware, and works in marketing and communications.