A HOPEfully Human Field Note
Before I understood trauma, nervous systems, or how to breathe through chaos… I learned something about resilience from the back of a horse — and from my older brother’s questionable sense of humor.
As a girl, I used to coax our horses to the fence with apples and carrots, climbing onto their backs bareback — no saddle, no shoes, just tangled hair and scraped knees. We’d ride through open fields with the wind in our faces and laughter spilling from our bellies. That was freedom. But this story isn’t about that kind of riding.
This is the story of the time my brother decided to test my grip on life. You see I was a gullible, trusting little girl and it often found me in interesting situations.
There was a saddle that day — one saddle, one horse, and five kids. It was his idea, of course. “Let’s all ride her together,” he grinned, and somehow, we all said yes. I climbed up first, proud and ready, settling in like I belonged there.
Then — as the others began climbing on — he intentionally kicked Ginger’s flanks to get her to buck. Thought it would be funny. Chaos. Laughs. A little yeehaw.
Except… I didn’t let go. The other kids flew like popcorn from a hot pan, but I held that saddle horn with everything I had. And that’s when the laughter left his face. I saw it — that “oh crap, I’m gonna be in trouble” panic. Because he realized I wasn’t coming off unless someone made me. I was terrified of hitting the ground. He screamed, “Let go, I’ll catch you.” But nope it wasn’t happening. I held on tighter. Everyone started chanting for me to let go. But I held steadfast! We were attracting the attention of the cowhands and it was getting deep…
He had no choice but to calm the horse just to get me to let go and get off that horse. And when I finally slid down, dirt in my teeth and victory in my soul, I looked up at him, shrugged, and said: “That was definitely more than eight seconds.”
HOPEfully Human Soul Note:
Some girls grow up learning how to perform. I grew up learning how to hold on. That moment taught me something I’d carry into adulthood — not just how to survive chaos, but how to ride it out with fire in my belly and my hands still gripped around something solid. The girl who once rode bareback with carrot-sticky hands and grass in her hair? She still lives in me. And she still knows when to let go… and when to hold on with all she’s got.
Another HOPEfully Human Moment
Because healing doesn’t always wear white linen and a crystal necklace. Sometimes, it clings to a saddle horn and refuses to be flung. “Eight Seconds of Glory (And a Lifetime of Grit)”
Where Sharon Lea shares her feral childhood moments — barefoot, bold, and just a little bit bruised. Every Sunday morning return for another Sunday Funday feral childhood moment. Next week, I’ll be sharing more about my gullible naive moments with my older brother.
Reflection: Have you ever had one of those moments when life kicks up dust and everyone’s telling you to just let go?
Yeah…me too.
I held on. Not out of courage – but because falling felt scarier than holding on. Sometimes, we hold on too long and the universe finds a way to force us forward. Other times a guardian angel comes to rescue us so we can let go. Honestly, the best feeling was being rescued, because when I finally got down off that bucking wild ride, I smiled through the dirt and celebrated: “MORE THAN EIGHT SECONDS BABY.”
What was your not so courageous moment? Did the universe intervene, or did you get rescued? These are the little inner child moments we need to remember to help rewrite our narrative.
Continue the Journey:
HOPE & Honey™ Skincare: Where Vibration Meets Ritual
Wild Soul HOPE 
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