Well, if you had asked me that a few years ago, I probably would’ve said… twenty years.
Twenty years.
Because that’s how long it took me to claw my way back after one terrifying moment shattered my confidence.
Sixty seconds of panic stole decades of courage.
That’s the truth—and yes, that’s heartbreaking.
That’s the truth—and yes, that’s heartbreaking.
But it’s also why I do what I do now.
Because I don’t want it to take you twenty years.
Because I don’t want it to take you twenty years.
When I was rebuilding my confidence, I had no roadmap. I fought my way through every book, every clinic, every self-help approach and therapists. The process worked—eventually. It was solid. It was necessary. But it was also slow.
And time is something we don’t get back.
I even wrote a book about that long road back—and it’s a good one, full of helpful strategies.
But if I were starting over today, I’d change the beginning, then follow the process I put in the book.
But if I were starting over today, I’d change the beginning, then follow the process I put in the book.
I’d start at the end.
I know—sounds backward.
But what I’ve learned over the last two years changes everything.
But what I’ve learned over the last two years changes everything.
The end of my journey—where I finally reset the fear, cleared the nerves, and felt like me again—is now the beginning of the process I walk my clients through.
And it works.
Sometimes in just one or two 40-minute sessions.
I’m talking about deep nervous system reset.
Not just mindset pep talks.
Real rewiring that lets you start clean—like the fearless kid you used to be, before the “What ifs” took over.
Does it still take mindfulness and follow-up?
Yes.
But instead of crawling back over years, you get a head start.
You start with confidence in the saddle—and then you build strength to hold it.
Yes.
But instead of crawling back over years, you get a head start.
You start with confidence in the saddle—and then you build strength to hold it.
So, if you’re wondering how long it really takes to get your confidence back…
The answer is:
Not as long as you think.
Not as long as you think.
Not anymore.
And if you’re ready to explore that kind of reset, I’d love to walk you through it.
Book a free Calm-Ride Strategy Call and let’s get you started where most people finish.
Book a free Calm-Ride Strategy Call and let’s get you started where most people finish.
My horse was ready.
The mounting block was set up perfectly.
She stood quietly, waiting for me to show up.
The mounting block was set up perfectly.
She stood quietly, waiting for me to show up.
But I couldn’t do it.
It was one of my first rides after my accident, and I felt like I was going to be sick. The fear was loud, sharp, and real. I knew this moment mattered. It was now or never.
I had to show fear who was boss.
But there I was—frozen—right on the mounting block.
Then a thought popped into my head.
And it turned out to be one of the best thoughts I’ve ever had:
And it turned out to be one of the best thoughts I’ve ever had:
"What would your trainer do if she were standing here with your horse?"
She would get on. No drama. No debate.
So why not pretend to be her?
No one said I had to be me in that moment.
Why not channel the confidence of someone I trust?
Why not channel the confidence of someone I trust?
And just like that, a deep calm settled over me.
I got on. Put my feet in the irons. Rode off—cool as a cucumber.
I got on. Put my feet in the irons. Rode off—cool as a cucumber.
And it felt amazing.
Since then, I’ve made this part of my routine. On days when I’m feeling unsure or rusty, I "become" one of my favorite trainers before I even leave the house. I switch it up from time to time to keep it fresh—and it’s actually fun.
Here’s why it works so well:
- It shifts your imagination: Instead of imagining everything that could go wrong, you’re rehearsing success—based on someone you respect.
- It focuses your mind: You start to think like a capable, confident rider—how they prepare, how they respond, how they carry themselves.
- It quiets the “what ifs”: There’s simply no room left for anxious brain static.
So here’s your challenge for the next month:
Become your favorite trainer.
What would they feel? What would they do? How would they prepare?
Fill up with their calm, their certainty—and let it squeeze out the fear.
And when you try it, I’d love to hear about it.
What trainer did you pick? How did it go?
What trainer did you pick? How did it go?
And if you want some help creating your own confidence persona, I’d love to support you.
Book a free Calm-Ride Strategy Call and we’ll create a plan that works for you.
Book a free Calm-Ride Strategy Call and we’ll create a plan that works for you.
The fear sat around stewing in my head like it belonged there after my accident.
It replayed itself in high definition. Over and over. The fall. The moment everything changed. I couldn’t stop seeing it—feeling it—like my brain had decided it was the most important event of my life.
Someone once told me that we only remember 8 or 9 bits of data out of the millions that happen in any moment.
And when I heard that, I paused.
Because if my brain was only going to remember a few bits… why did it have to be the worst ones?
Why not choose better memory bits?
Why not turn the memory into something useful… or even funny?
I started imagining the whole thing like a Saturday morning cartoon.
ACME-style.
Wile E. Coyote. Foghorn Leghorn. Bugs Bunny.
Maybe I flew through the air with a comically long whistle. Maybe a puff of dust where I hit the ground. Maybe I stood up, hair frazzled, holding a crooked sign that said, “Well, that escalated quickly!”
ACME-style.
Wile E. Coyote. Foghorn Leghorn. Bugs Bunny.
Maybe I flew through the air with a comically long whistle. Maybe a puff of dust where I hit the ground. Maybe I stood up, hair frazzled, holding a crooked sign that said, “Well, that escalated quickly!”
And I laughed.
That laughter cracked something open.
The grip fear had on me loosened.
The grip fear had on me loosened.
Because I wasn’t stuck inside the memory anymore—I was re-authoring it.
Falling Off Hurts — But It Doesn’t Get to Write Your Future
3 Steps to Regain Confidence After a Fall
Step 1: Acknowledge What Happened Without Letting It Define You
Don’t minimize it. Don’t dramatize it. Just say it like it is:
“I fell. It scared me. But I’m still here. And I’m choosing to heal.”
Your brain wants resolution. It wants safety. And naming the truth without judgment is step one.
Step 2: Choose Better Bits (Yes, Even the Funny Ones)
You get to choose what parts of the memory stay active.
Was your horse already apologizing with their eyes?
Did you land in a way that made you look like a lawn dart?
Can you picture Bugs Bunny calmly munching a carrot nearby?
Was your horse already apologizing with their eyes?
Did you land in a way that made you look like a lawn dart?
Can you picture Bugs Bunny calmly munching a carrot nearby?
Let your imagination play with it.
Laughter rewires fear. It creates safety. It gives you back your power.
Step 3: Rebuild With Repetition and Momentum
Start small. Groom your horse. Breathe next to them. Go for a short walk.
Then ride at the walk. Then the trot. No pressure. Just presence.
Then ride at the walk. Then the trot. No pressure. Just presence.
Confidence isn’t built by pretending you’re not afraid.
It’s built by proving—bit by bit—that you’re safe again.
It’s built by proving—bit by bit—that you’re safe again.
And each small success?
Another bit worth remembering.
You’re Not Broken — You’re Becoming
You don’t have to go back to who you were.
You can become someone wiser. Stronger. Kinder to yourself.
You can become someone wiser. Stronger. Kinder to yourself.
And if you need help choosing the better bits?
Let’s talk. Book your free Calm-Ride Strategy Call and let’s create your new story—one built on courage, joy, and maybe a little bit of Bugs Bunny. 🥕
When the fear took hold after my accident, I felt so lost and alone. Nobody understood my fear—especially me.
I had always been the fearless kid.
The courageous one getting all of us into trouble.
The one who rode alone in the Angeles National Forest before school.
The courageous one getting all of us into trouble.
The one who rode alone in the Angeles National Forest before school.
So how could this fear have come over me?
And more importantly—why was it holding me hostage?
And more importantly—why was it holding me hostage?
Could I get my courage back?
And if so, how?
And if so, how?
These are the questions we ask ourselves when we’re sitting alone with our fear.
Our friends tell us to “just get on and ride.”
Or worse: “Show that horse who’s boss.”
Or worse: “Show that horse who’s boss.”
But it’s not that simple.
Because fear rewires the nervous system. It can strip away confidence that once came so naturally. And when that happens, we begin to wonder if we’ll ever feel brave again.
Here’s what I want you to know:
Even in our deepest fear, we can learn courage.
We can turn back the clock and reclaim the confidence that feels so far away.
We can turn back the clock and reclaim the confidence that feels so far away.
Maybe our courage was genetic at first. But once it’s been shaken—or taken—we absolutely can rebuild it.
So how do we get it back?
Step One: Make the decision to get it back.
This might sound too simple, but it’s the key.
When you decide—really decide—that you’re ready to reclaim your courage, doors begin to open. The right people, tools, and solutions start showing up.
This might sound too simple, but it’s the key.
When you decide—really decide—that you’re ready to reclaim your courage, doors begin to open. The right people, tools, and solutions start showing up.
Step Two: Make the plan.
How will you get it back?
For me, it was a long road: preparation, knowledge, experience, therapy.
But there are faster ways too—like a reset hypnotherapy session or a tailored NLP session to help your mind and body recalibrate after an accident.
How will you get it back?
For me, it was a long road: preparation, knowledge, experience, therapy.
But there are faster ways too—like a reset hypnotherapy session or a tailored NLP session to help your mind and body recalibrate after an accident.
Step Three: Take the first step—and keep going.
This one is critical. Courage grows with momentum.
The more you move, the more confidence you build.
The more confidence you build, the more freedom you feel.
This one is critical. Courage grows with momentum.
The more you move, the more confidence you build.
The more confidence you build, the more freedom you feel.
You can do this.
You don’t have to stay stuck.
You don’t have to stay afraid.
These three steps are how I found my way back into the saddle—and they can help you do the same.
If you're ready to take that first step, let's talk. Book a free Calm-Ride Strategy Call and let’s start building your personalized courage comeback.
My accident lasted 60 seconds.
That was it.
That was it.
But I spent hours—many, many hours—replaying those 60 seconds in my mind. I was stuck. Fixated on the rearview mirror.
Have you ever caught yourself looking back a little too long?
(Or maybe a lot too long?)
(Or maybe a lot too long?)
Whether it's in life or in the saddle, we all drift into the past sometimes—mistakes, regrets, or just how things used to be. And while a quick glance back can be helpful, if you stare too long, you miss what’s ahead.
It’s like driving. You have a destination in mind. You’re enjoying the journey.
But if you're constantly checking the rearview mirror?
You miss what’s in front of you.
Worse—you might crash.
But if you're constantly checking the rearview mirror?
You miss what’s in front of you.
Worse—you might crash.
The same thing happens in our riding lives. I’ve worked with so many riders stuck in a loop of looking back—accidents, scary moments, or just that heavy fear that it could all go wrong again. I get it. I was that rider too.
But here’s the truth:
Your future is created by what you do now—not by what happened back then.
Your future is created by what you do now—not by what happened back then.
Your past can inform you, but it doesn’t get to author what comes next.
When I finally stopped obsessing over what had gone wrong—every fall, every bad ride, every haunting what if—that’s when things started to shift. I began to ride toward the future I wanted to enjoy, not the one I feared.
Just like on a trail ride, you may glance back now and then. But then you return your focus to the path ahead—the beauty around you, the destination that’s calling your name.
So what does the trail ahead look like for you?
Maybe it’s riding with joy again.
Maybe it’s just getting back in the saddle without that knot in your stomach.
Maybe it’s finally trusting yourself—and your horse.
Maybe it’s just getting back in the saddle without that knot in your stomach.
Maybe it’s finally trusting yourself—and your horse.
Whatever it is, don’t let the rearview hold you back.
Glance if you need to.
Then bring your eyes forward.
The trail ahead is waiting.
Glance if you need to.
Then bring your eyes forward.
The trail ahead is waiting.
If you’d like a little help designing that path in front of you, book a free Calm-Ride Strategy Call. Let’s create your roadmap to riding with confidence again.
