Some people find healing in silence. Others find it in nature, in movement, in meditation. For me, it was always the horses.

I didn’t know it back then. I just knew that when life at home felt too heavy, too uncertain, I wanted to be at the barn. Growing up with a parent who struggled with alcoholism meant I never quite knew what I’d walk into. My nervous system was on high alert before I even knew what a nervous system was.

At the barn, everything slowed down.

I could breathe, relax and just be.

As a little girl, mucking stalls during the freezing winters in New York or curling up in the hayloft, surrounded by the sweet smell of feed and horse breath, was my sanctuary. It was a place of peace where my body finally learned to exhale.

Life wasn’t a straight path. It rarely is.

I’ve tried on more identities than most: stand-up comic, DJ, corporate trainer, private pilot. Each one taught me something, pulled me forward, gave me tools. But they also became ways to outrun the pain, to keep busy, to not feel.

I’ve made bold moves, some that looked brave, others that were just survival in disguise. I came out at 17, stumbled through a dark patch that nearly ended me at 19, and learned, over time, how to put myself back together. Not perfectly, not all at once. But piece by piece. Breath by breath.

And through it all, the horses kept calling me back.

It wasn’t until midlife, after I’d done the corporate thing, the caregiving thing, the people-pleasing thing, that I returned to horses with intention.

First as a therapeutic riding volunteer, then as an equine massage therapist, then eventually, I found the Center for Equus Coaching. Something in me said: This is it. This is where all those winding paths were leading me.

Equus Coaching is not about fixing.

It’s about remembering.

It’s about standing in the presence of a horse – without expectation, without pretense, and allowing yourself to be seen. Truly seen.

Why horses? Because they don’t care what you wear, how much money you make or who you’re trying to be.

Horses tune into the essence of who you are, in that moment – beneath the armor, beneath the noise, behind the mask. They will reflect your energy, your intention, your incongruence – both beautifully, and without judgment.

Horses don’t need you to have it all figured out. They just ask you to show up, be present, and bring a bit of healthy curiosity.

My horse, Moose, has become both a partner and a teacher. He won’t tolerate anything less than the real me. When I show up in my head, he may keep his distance, while gently urging me to find my heart center, get grounded, honest and vulnerable.

Watching horses work with clients is like watching grace in motion. They meet you where you are. They invite you in. And when you drop the mask, the tension, the years of white-knuckling through life, they lean in deeply and give you exactly what you need.

There’s a certain kind of alchemy that happens in those moments – a truth remembered, a part of you restored, and a glimpse into new paths and possibilities.

It’s not magic; it’s magical because by learning to be present, you discover your true power.

*Join Sue Willoughby and Travis Stock this August in Seattle, WA to experience Equus Coaching live at a Demo Day!