Galloping Back to My (Horse-Mad) Past

Once upon a time, there lived a young short-haired girl whose gap-toothed smile brightened the world, her feel-good energy as contagious as the need to devour several episodes of Mad Men in the space of an evening. The little girl was an expert in keeping herself amused and, at that time, didn't have an inkling on what an iPhone - the future object of her green-eyed envy - was, preferring to dedicate her time to playing with her half-dressed Bratz dolls and yelling her little brother's name at the top of her lungs whenever he pushed his luck a little too far. If it wasn't for the oh-so-famous fact that she was capable of kicking her father near the peanuts area as a so-called 'joke', nobody would have thought twice about this girl being an angel, a heavenly glow radiating from her acne-free complexion and blue-as-sea eyes which told of a happiness deeper than the ocean itself.

One day, the young girl experienced an epiphany - a second-long burst of light, shall we say - and was transformed into something which, until that moment, had never crossed her mind as a potential possibility: a horse lover. All of a sudden, she was swept into a dramatic wave of madness as a new-found passion for the equine kind became her main focus of attention, brushing aside her life-long love of dolls (unfortunately of the plastic kind) and making away for an interest which was destined to follow her throughout a lifetime. Or, if the calculator on my smartphone is working, it is a passion which has remained in my thoughts - and, most important of all, within my heart - since my love affair with horses first came about when I was eight years old, setting my path in a completely different direction.

Whether you'll even bother to believe it or not, I - the self-confessed moodiest teenager to have ever walked on Plane Earth - used to be this sweet-natured (with a penchant for sugary confectionary, of course) little girl who was a complete novice at the now-honed art of moaning in style, my bedroom filled with as many cuddly toys and dolls as one could imagine. Even writing about my younger self continues to fill me with surprise because it amazes me that I - who, according to the numerous pictures taken on my Mum's Canon camera, used to willingly walk out of the house without a scrap of make-up - have since evolved in what seems like a different person, though it doesn't sever all ties with what was my very horsey past in the slightest.

Like many young girls, nothing wooed me over more than picking up another high-heeled doll at the supermarket - depending on the brand, the dolls had either undergone a boob job by Playboy's models' preferred surgeon or were unsuccessfully trying to disguise an eating disorder, judging by the wasp-thin waists alone - which, in many ways, made my new love for horses rather sudden indeed. However, I guess that I have always been drawn towards animals because my life literally began with them - cue my old cat Tom leaving a few scratches on my head the night before I was christened - but horses had hardly ever crossed my mind, their show-stopping elegance a mystery yet unsolved to my bewildered self. Sometimes, though, a passion can be taken to a whole new level when it springs upon you without giving as much of a hint towards its appearance, jumping out of the blue at what is later deemed to be the right time. And, as it probably clicked with you long before I got here, the moment when I not only realized, but truly embraced a love for horses and ponies was perfect.

As a TV-watching youngster (saying this makes me feel like a veteran, bearing in mind that I no longer hog the Sky remote as I once used to do so), I was instantly attached to watching programmes typically steered towards a feminine market, particularly the ones aired on the kids' channels. Most of the names of these shows have all but slipped from my memory because the plug was pulled on them long ago but, with the internet becoming an increasingly productive way of spreading the word about various articles, I would often log on the long-deceased desktop computer and search for my favourite programmes, in the hope of finding and possibly joining their website. Whether the details disclosed to registering with these 'clubs' have since found their way in a fraudster's hands, I suppose that I'll never know, but I created somewhat of an obsession with joining as many as I could; in my young mind, the more I was a part of, the more popular I was.

Anyway, my brother endured several months of hardship and agony as I consistently robbed the remote off his fingers and was glued to the TV, partly due to a new girls-themed channel being launched and a premonition of what the future held in store for me (nine months of the year taken up with Premier League football - and that isn't even including this year's World Cup). This was related to a new programme, aptly titled Horseland, starting to air on my then-favourite channel, and I instantly fell in love with it, its animated characters and horses (some of whom had coloured streaks in their manes; who ever said that a horse could enter a hair salon?) grabbing my attention. And so it hardly took any time at all before I began searching for its website and, inevitably, a fan club where I could pour all of my love for it but, as destiny had in store for me, an interest in a short-lived American cartoon was only the warm-up to what would eventually morph into something beyond my wildest dreams.

Unlike what I had anticipated, the website was actually the main source of inspiration for the TV show, having originally been created in the early 90s' as a virtual game for horse-mad gamers. And, as soon I clicked the 'confirm' button on the registration form, I was hooked on playing the game, which involving taking care of your customized horse and entering 'competitions' - and horses, as it goes without saying!

To many, it may strike you as strange that my love for horses developed simply by joining a website which catered towards experienced gamers, but it was only when my parents purchased an equine-themed magazine aimed at children for me that my interest stood a proper chance of flourishing, avoiding the occasional pit-falls of a short-lived hobby. The magazine in question, called PONY Magazine, was like my very own bible, except that pictures of handsomely groomed horses and cute-faced ponies dominated the magazine which was published on a monthly basis. And, to make things even better, my upcoming birthday couldn't have featured more horse-themed gifts; from equine care books to even a Bratz horse, I was literally living in my very own stables!

Talking of stables, the possibility of sitting and riding on a horse was rapidly becoming a hot subject because, after all, being with horses in person would have been a dream come true and, to my delight, I fulfilled my ambition several days after celebrating my birthday, being the nicest ever icing on the cake. The stables where I attended what was a taster lesson was a couple of miles away from my town and lived up to my image of a perfect stables: I saw and met plenty of horses who, as I had not yet experienced a growth spurt (nor had discovered the uplifting perks of wearing heels), towered over me, yet were the gentlest creatures I had ever stroked and spoken to. However, the pony that I rode, a uniquely called Syrick (to this day, I still don't know where this name originated), was as placid and as sweet as I'd hoped, making my first horse-riding lesson a day which I'll never forget - and, to everybody's amazement, I didn't even fall off!

If you ever wish to experience something unlike ever before, I strongly recommend horse-riding as a best way of getting a thrill whilst engaging with what I believe are friendly and highly intelligent animals, learning a skill which, back in the days where riding a horse was the sole means of travel, continues to be essential and a joy to many today. But, due to the rocket-high fees for even a thirty minute lesson at the stables, I only returned once again a few years' later, putting my dreams of becoming an advanced horse rider on hold.

And, as a lot of us are bound to experience at one point or another within our lives, there is sometimes the downfall after experiencing the highest of all highs, beginning the process of drifting elsewhere without even realizing it. Unlike several incidents, my fading interest in horses didn't occur overnight, sparking an automatic change in my once horse-obsessed existence; as time passed and I grew older, I shifted my attention to other subjects, such as fashion, writing and finding out who I wanted to be. The it's-all-or-nothing moment reached a head when I let rip at my desire to no longer purchase PONY Magazine which, apart from the horse-themed website I used to access, had kick-started a feeble interest in equines into a heartfelt passion, for which I solely lived, slept and ate. Although I was glad to have a few spare pound coins every month, it sometimes hit me that an unforgettable stage within my life - one of which was a path towards discovering who I truly was, beneath the make-up, New Look-bought clothes and bow-shaped earrings - had finished, its finality more profound than ever.

To this day, I've drifted in and out over my passion for horses which, at this moment in time, is in somewhat of a hiatus, gently bubbling beneath the surface. Whether my horse-mad persona will be resurrected for many years to come remains to be seen, but I have a feeling that my years of being glued to articles about grooming kits and coat colours will stay where, deep down, I know where they belong: the past. As a nine year old, I couldn't have been more passionate for whatever was associated with horses as my interest had just been born and was at its peak, the best that my love for equines will probably ever be. And, however hard it might be to let go of a time which is a stark contrast to my life now - for example, the spotty agenda hadn't reached an epidemic level yet -, I realize that hanging onto something which won't live up to my expectations will only diminish the glory of my horse-mad days. That cannot happen, can it?

For now, I will look back at my past and burst with pride at the first time when my name - obviously not under my LikeATeen title - was published in a nationally published magazine which, of course, was all about horses. Horses gave me the push I needed to realize my dream - becoming a journalist - and put all my heart into fulfilling it, for which I will be eternally grateful. But, as I've had to realize, evolution is one aspect of life which we cannot avoid and, if needs be, I'll do all I can to evolve into the best person I can be.

Still, I wouldn't mind galloping to the local stables any time soon...