Amy Heidbreder

This is the phrase I am speaking over 2022, “and yet, she prevailed.” If your 2021 was anything like mine, it was full of adversity, full of fires, and full of people wanting to drink out of your depleted cup. This year you might have been expected to carry a heavier load, and the help promised in the trek up the mountain has left you abandoned and stuck. I feel that. I end this year looking over the ledge of my mountain at a pile of broken dreams I thought were finally mine this year, dreams I ambitiously pursued with hope my whole life, only to fall short and have to let go. I naively thought that if I just worked hard, someone might take notice and provide opportunity. I still naively think that sometimes, but I end the year with a pile of heavy questions to sort through. Do I walk away? Do I keep going? Do I start online dating? Do I sell my horse? And there is no right answer. How you pursue starting a family, getting back in the show ring, bettering your career or whatever goal you have is between you and God. But what to do when goals aren’t panning out, like when prices obliterate a dream, or when rejection is all you’ve known. I know exactly what it feels like to grapple with this struggle.

Since I last wrote a blog, the adversity pummeling my life has not let up. If anything, it’s worsened. It’s hard for me to quantify this year. I have my health for the most part. I have my animals’ health and my parents’ health. I have a roof over my head. I live in a perfectly sized cozy Amy inspired bungalow, but there is a force out there trying to obliterate my progress and peace. This force has found a way to poison every corner of my existence—my career, my riding, my health, my relationships, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I’ve ever felt life to be more destitute in the pursuance of my dreams than it is at this moment in time. I’ve stretched the ends of my budget. I’m working harder than ever. I show up every day without fail, and it’s still not enough. The goal posts never stop moving. The most recent goal post move took the wind out of my sails and now I just need to lie down. All I know to do right now is to rest and recover my strength and resources as I lean on faith and give it to God.

It’s hard to do that. So hard. Stepping out into the world after some heavy unexpected trauma naturally causes hesitation and a lack of confidence. Not only that it interferes with your sense of navigation. It can feel like the future is simply walled off, like you’ve hit a dead end and the only path is backward. The resources you had hoped would provide you a ladder to scale that wall never panned out or became depleted, and now you’re just stuck. I hope this resonates with somebody. I am declaring that 2022 is going to be a year of prevailing and of recovery for people like us. I mean, if enough of us are stuck, maybe we can use each other to pile up and scale the wall. You know?!

Fairness and equality in nature does not exist. Adversity is just a way of life, but I contend those of us that battle through trouble, trauma or adversity absolutely wind up stronger on the other side. I am speaking this headed into 2022, because I need to hear it. Honestly, I’m someone that if you asked me something like, “does hard work pay off in the horse world,” I would quietly answer, “no,” but that is the attitude I plan to stow this year, even with my riding career being one of those shattered dreams at the bottom of my mountain.

My riding career has finally fallen victim to the ever-increasing prices in this sport. However, it is not hopeless for all adult amateur riders coming behind me, as finally, USEF has updated their rules to allow adult amateurs to accept payment for doing things like teaching beginner lessons part-time or riding other people’s horses part-time or doing barn chores, without the risk of losing their amateur status. For someone like me though, the rule changes come too little too late, but I feel like in a small way I affected real change. USEF reached out many, many months ago, asking why I hadn’t renewed my membership. They sent a survey, and I wrote a long letter detailing the plight of a typical, single, working adult amateur. How are we supposed to realistically achieve and maintain those engineering, managerial, executive level jobs we need to pay for this sport AND still have the time to put in all the hours on our horse? When care for your horse costs more than your rent and car payment combined, there isn’t a whole lot of hope for young adults fresh out of college in making it in this sport. The barrier to entry is way, way, WAY too high.

I have hope in that maybe I can pick up the pieces after retreating and healing a bit, but at the moment, I am not ending 2021 well when it comes to my horse dreams. It might be a good time to rest anyway for my health. I am nursing a knee sprain. Shortly after my last blog post, my horse kicked me square in the knee cap. It’s been almost 5 months since the initial injury, and I still can’t bend my knee all the way. I’m to start physical therapy in January to try and get full range of motion back. After the incident, I was prescribed pain medication, and after being on those meds for a while, I started to have weird symptoms—chest pain, heart palpitations, a legit panic attack. I know why people call an ambulance or go to the emergency room for a panic attack. The symptoms can feel vaguely heart attack or stroke like. I’m scheduled for a stress test at the beginning of the year to evaluate my heart health, just in case.

This year has absolutely been hard, from stalkers looking for a vulnerable woman to prey upon, to “recruiters” poaching my team members, to unusually high price hikes, everyone has wanted to steal a piece of my world, my time, my dreams, my vacation, my safety, my health and my routine.

I know I’m not the only one who experienced trauma in 2021. I’m praying that all those who suffered, victims of 2021, that your depleted cup is filled by a supernatural connection. I’m praying that in 2022 you PREVAIL. At the end of 2022, I am going to be speaking these words for myself and every other woman out there who 2021 victimized, “and yet, she prevailed.”