10/20/2026
I don’t really share about myself. I’ve spent a lot of my life being invisible and enjoying it. As I age, I realize that I do want to be seen, known, even though I find it incredibly terrifying. If you don’t really know me, you can’t not like me. As much as I don’t want to care if I’m liked, I do care.
I grew up around horses, although I didn’t experience it that way, they were just there like the dogs and cats were. My aunt rode dressage and kept her horses stabled on my dad’s estate in New Jersey. They roamed the hilly front field during the day and were just part of the background. The first horse I ever rode was my aunt’s girl Maja, a beautiful brown Morgan, she was soft and gentle and easy. I remember the day she died, my dad and I found her in the tall grasses out in the field.
I grew up in LA and I spent every summer in NJ at my dad’s. Before I would go east, I would visit my mom’s family on their sprawling ranch in northern Montana. The wide open flat plains were a stark contrast to the rolling hills of my father’s ‘gentleman’s farm’ in NJ, my mom’s family were true cattle ranchers. It was something special - riding ba****ck as the sun set close to 10pm, holding on for dear life as we galloped across the open plains.
I notice that I save and post a lot of horses. When we travel, I always try to ride. I’ve never had a horse of my own, but I would love to.
🤍🤍🤍
