It’s Just a Busy Season

It’s been about a week since my last post, and honestly, life has felt like a complete whirlwind.

Between business, family, vacation planning, packing, dogs, kids, and everything in between, I feel like I’ve been juggling a little bit of everything lately.

I’m not going to lie—I’ve definitely been feeling overwhelmed.

There are so many things I want to do, and sometimes it feels like there just aren’t enough hours in the day. I keep trying to manage everything, stay organized, and keep pushing forward, but some days it feels like I’m barely keeping up.

One thing I’ve been feeling guilty about is my magnet business.

I finally got my magnet maker, and I was so excited to start creating and selling. But since it arrived, I haven’t had much time to work with it or get anything listed.

That has been hard for me.

When I’m excited about something, I want to jump in immediately. I want to create, make progress, and see where the idea can go. When I can’t do that, I start feeling like I’m falling behind.

But I’m trying to remind myself that I’m not failing.

I’m just busy.

This is simply the season I’m in right now.

The kids are home from school. We’re preparing for vacation. Business is busy. Family life needs my attention. There are dogs to care for, bags to pack, orders to handle, and a never-ending list of things that need to get done.

The magnets will still be there when life settles down.

The business idea isn’t going anywhere just because I haven’t had time to start it yet.

That’s something I’m working on—giving myself permission to slow down without feeling guilty.

School will start again soon, routines will return, and I’ll have more time to focus on the projects I’m excited about.

This season will pass, and another one will come.

For now, I’m trying to stay positive, take things one day at a time, and remember that I don’t have to do everything at once.

Sometimes progress looks like launching a new business.

Sometimes it looks like keeping everyone fed, packed, and moving in the right direction.

And sometimes simply making it through a busy week is enough.

So here’s a reminder for anyone else feeling overwhelmed right now:

You’re not behind.

You’re not failing.

You’re just living through a busy season.

And the next season will come.

Back in the Show Pen

This weekend was my first horse show of the year.

New trainer. New horse. New barn family.

To say I was nervous would be an understatement.

After everything that happened over the last year, I wasn't just worried about showing—I was worried about starting over. I had some rough experiences with my last trainer, and even though I was excited for this new opportunity, I couldn't help but wonder how the weekend would go.

I'm happy to say... it couldn't have gone much better.

It felt so good to be back in the show pen after almost a year away. I didn't realize how much I had missed it until I heard my number called and walked through the gate.

Even better, I finally got to show a horse that fit me. A horse that wanted to do the job and helped build my confidence instead of taking it away.

I've only been riding this horse for about a week and a half, so I wasn't expecting perfection. We definitely had a few pilot errors—I'll take the blame for those—but considering how little time we've had together, I couldn't be happier.

Looking back, I'm thankful for all those years of being a catch rider as a teenager. Riding different horses taught me how to adapt quickly, and that experience definitely helped this weekend.

One thing people always tell me is, "Horse showing is so expensive."

And yes, it absolutely can be.

Here's what this show cost:

🐴 Stall: **$200** (including five bags of shavings)

🚐 Camping: **$150**

🐴 Tack stall: **$100** (split with someone else)

🏆 Show fee: **$325**

For that flat show fee, I was able to compete in:

• Showmanship (2 classes)

• Horsemanship (2 classes)

• Western Pleasure (2 classes)

• Equitation (2 classes)

When people hear those numbers, it sounds like a lot—and it is. But when you break it down over an entire weekend and eight classes, it's easier to understand where the money goes.

Horse showing has never been the cheapest hobby, but for me, it's about so much more than ribbons.

It's about the friendships.

The horses.

The lessons.

The confidence you gain.

The feeling of walking into the arena knowing all your hard work led to this moment.

This weekend reminded me why I love this sport.

Not because everything was perfect.

But because after almost a year away, I proved to myself that I could do it again.

Sometimes all you need is the right horse, the right trainer, and the courage to start over.

And I think this is just the beginning.

New Adventures Are Exciting... and Terrifying

First off, sorry for the late post. It's been a bit of a crazy weekend that somehow turned into a crazy week.

The reptile show ended up going really well. One of the best parts wasn't even the sales—it was the people. I had some really great conversations with others in the industry about business, entrepreneurship, and what it's like trying to build something of your own.

To be honest, it was nice to feel seen.

I've written before about how challenging it can be being a woman in a male-dominated industry. There are definitely moments when I feel like I have to prove myself more than others. But this weekend, I felt supported, respected, and encouraged. Sometimes all it takes is a few good conversations to remind you that there are some really amazing people out there.

I also had the chance to talk to people about my newest business idea: custom magnets.

And I think I've decided to do it.

I'm going to move forward with the purchase.

Am I nervous? Absolutely.

But if I'm being honest, I think I'm always nervous when I start a new adventure. I like to have all the boxes checked before I make a decision, and entrepreneurship doesn't always work that way. Sometimes you have to trust yourself enough to take the next step.

As if one new adventure wasn't enough, I've decided to lease a horse for the next few months while I continue searching for the right horse to buy.

And here's the really exciting part: I think I'm going to try a completely different discipline.

I've spent years around western pleasure and all-around horses, but lately I've been thinking about trying reining and ranch riding. Maybe a change of pace is exactly what I need. Maybe stepping outside of my comfort zone is the right move.

Or maybe I'm completely crazy.

Honestly, probably a little of both.

The older I get, the more I realize that every worthwhile adventure comes with a little fear attached to it. Starting a business is scary. Trying a new discipline is scary. Putting yourself out there and hoping things work out is scary.

But staying exactly where you are can be scary too.

So for now, I'm choosing the scary that comes with growth.

A new business.

A leased horse.

A new discipline.

A whole lot of uncertainty.

And, hopefully, a whole lot of adventure.

Here's to trying new things, even when they scare us.

Finding My Voice in a Man’s World

This weekend I’m headed to another reptile show.

Most people who follow me for horses probably don’t know this, but my full-time job is working in our family business. We raise feeder roaches for the reptile community, and it’s been a huge part of my life for years.

Honestly, I love it.

I get to work alongside my parents and my brother every day, and I know that’s something not everyone gets to experience. We work hard, we laugh a lot, and we’ve built something together that I’m incredibly proud of.

But I’m also going to be honest.

Running a business as a woman in a male-dominated industry isn’t always easy.

There are so many wonderful people in the reptile community who have been supportive and encouraging. They’ve treated me with respect, answered questions, and welcomed me into the industry.

But there are also moments when I can tell someone has already decided that I don’t know what I’m talking about.

It’s frustrating.

Not because I need everyone to agree with me, but because I’ve put in the work. I’ve spent years learning this business. I’ve handled thousands of animals, worked countless reptile shows, solved problems, and helped customers every single day.

Yet sometimes I still feel like I have to prove that I belong.

If I’m quiet, people assume I don’t know enough.

If I’m confident, I’m afraid of coming across as “bitchy.”

Why does it feel like women are expected to find this impossible balance?

Confident—but not too confident.

Knowledgeable—but not intimidating.

Strong—but still agreeable.

Lately, I’ve realized this is something I need to work on.

Not becoming louder.

Not becoming mean.

Just becoming comfortable enough to stand up for myself.

There is a difference between being rude and having confidence.

There is a difference between being difficult and setting boundaries.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with speaking up when you know what you’re talking about.

Maybe that’s one of the lessons I’m learning in this season of life.

Whether it’s buying horses, starting new businesses, or working reptile shows, confidence isn’t about convincing everyone else you’re capable.

It’s about believing it yourself.

So this weekend, I’ll be packing roaches, talking with customers, helping reptile owners, and reminding myself that I earned my place here just as much as anyone else.

I’m still learning.

But I think I’m finally finding my voice.

Sometimes Walking Away Is the Right Decision

Well, the vet check did not go as planned.

Actually, that's not entirely true. The vet check did exactly what it was supposed to do. It gave me information that helped me make a decision.

The decision just wasn't the one I was hoping for.

Going into the vet check, I knew they would find something. That's horses. No horse is perfect, especially if you're looking hard enough. The question is never whether they'll find something. The question is whether it's something you're willing to live with.

For me, the answer was no.

What surprised me most wasn't the findings themselves. It was the reaction from people afterward.

The horse was being represented by a horse broker, and he really didn't understand why I chose to walk away. It felt like he thought I should just buy the horse anyway and deal with the issues later.

Maybe that's what bothered me.

Somewhere along the way, it feels like parts of the horse industry have started treating vet checks as obstacles instead of tools. Almost like if you find something concerning, you're supposed to ignore it, accept it, or convince yourself it isn't a big deal.

But here's the thing.

Everyone has a different level of risk they're willing to accept.

One buyer might be perfectly comfortable with a particular finding. Another buyer might not be. Neither person is wrong.

A vet check isn't about finding a perfect horse. It's about making an informed decision.

And after everything I've been through with Audree, my perspective has changed.

Losing her was one of the hardest experiences I've ever faced. I spent months trying to figure out what was wrong, trying different treatments, hoping for a different outcome, and ultimately having to make a heartbreaking decision.

That experience taught me a lot.

It taught me that sometimes your gut knows before your heart is ready to admit it.

It taught me that horses can humble you in ways you never expected.

And it taught me that protecting your peace isn't something you should apologize for.

So when the vet check revealed things I wasn't comfortable with, I listened to myself.

I didn't try to justify it.

I didn't try to convince myself it would be fine.

I didn't let someone else's opinion make the decision for me.

I simply walked away.

Was it disappointing? Absolutely.

Did I want the horse to work out? Of course.

But walking away from the wrong horse gets you one step closer to finding the right one.

Right now, I don't know exactly what my next move is. Maybe that's the hardest part. The search continues, and I'll keep looking until I find a horse that feels right for me and my goals.

Until then, I'll keep focusing on the things I can control.

My family.

My businesses.

My new magnet adventure.

And trusting that the right horse is still out there.

Because sometimes the bravest thing you can do isn't buying the horse.

Sometimes it's walking away.

A Day of Nerves and New Beginnings

Today is the day.

The vet check on a horse I'm seriously considering.

To say I'm nervous would be an understatement. Anyone who has gone through the horse-buying process knows exactly what I'm talking about. You just never know what you're going to find.

The reality is that no horse is perfect, not even the young ones. A vet check almost always uncovers something. The question isn't whether they'll find anything—it's whether what they find is something you can live with.

For me, that decision can be a little more complicated.

I'm not someone who buys a horse planning to keep it forever. I usually keep horses for a few years, enjoy the process of developing them, and then help them move on to their next person. Because of that, I have to think about more than just whether a horse works for me today. I also have to think about future resale value and whether any findings could become a bigger issue down the road.

Maybe that's why I'm so nervous.

After everything that happened with Audree, it's hard not to overthink every possibility. I just want this one to work out. I'm hoping the vet check goes smoothly and that they don't find anything I can't comfortably manage or that would make me second-guess the decision.

So today, I'm crossing my fingers and hoping for good news.

On the bright side, there have been some exciting developments outside of the horse world.

My magnets are doing really well.

What started as a creative distraction has quickly become something I'm genuinely excited about. I've decided to upgrade my printer so I can produce even better-quality photos, and I'm going to start offering larger flexible magnets through Etsy and eBay.

I'll admit, that makes me a little nervous too.

Starting something new always comes with questions. Will people buy them? Will the business grow? Am I making the right decision?

But every time I hand someone a magnet and see their reaction, I remember why I started. There is something special about creating a keepsake from a favorite horse, a championship photo, or a memory that means something to someone.

Seeing how happy people are when they receive them makes all the uncertainty worth it.

So today feels like a day full of possibilities.

A horse vet check. A growing business. A lot of nerves. A lot of hope.

And maybe that's what life's all about—being brave enough to take the next step, even when you don't know exactly how things will turn out.

One More Business… Or Something More?

So, I started making magnets.

What began as a simple project to keep my mind busy has turned into something I genuinely enjoy. If I’m being honest, it has become a little bit of therapy.

After losing Audree and suddenly finding myself without a horse for the first time in years, I’ve been looking for something to fill that space. Not replace it—because nothing will—but something that gives me a creative outlet and helps quiet my mind.

That’s where the magnets came in.

I’ve made some for my parents and a few friends, and the response has been incredible. Everyone loves them. There is something special about creating something for someone else and seeing how excited they are when they receive it. Their happiness makes me smile.

Now, of course, my entrepreneur brain is kicking in.

Could this be a business?

The original vision was to create magnets for horse people—show photos, champion photos, memorable moments that could be displayed in RVs, living quarters, tack rooms, and homes. The problem is that the equipment to make larger magnets is expensive.

I’ve already purchased one machine to test the waters, but investing in a larger machine feels like a much bigger leap.

So for now, I think I’ll start small. Flexible magnets in larger sizes. Learn the market. See if people truly want them. Grow slowly.

That’s the funny thing about me. I’m not a huge risk taker when it comes to business. I know that probably sounds strange considering all the things I have going on.

I help run our family business. I resell online. I have a horse and dog wellness business. And now I’m sitting here wondering if I need one more thing on my plate.

The logical side of me says, “Absolutely not.”

The other side says, “But what if this is fun?”

Because the truth is, I love creating. I love building. I love the challenge of turning an idea into something real.

The hardest part isn’t coming up with ideas. It’s deciding which direction to go.

Sometimes I wish there was a giant flashing sign telling me exactly what path to take.

Instead, I hear the voices of my entrepreneur friends reminding me, “If you’re not failing, what are you even trying?”

They’re right.

Every successful business starts with someone willing to try. Some ideas work. Some don’t. Some evolve into something completely different than what you originally imagined.

Maybe the magnets become a business. Maybe they stay a hobby. Maybe they simply become part of the journey that helps me heal and find my confidence again.

Right now, I don’t have all the answers.

But I do know this: trying something new feels a whole lot better than standing still.

And sometimes that’s enough.

A great closing quote for this post would be:

“Maybe it’s not about finding the perfect direction. Maybe it’s about being brave enough to start moving.” ✨

The First Horse Show Without a Horse

This weekend was the first horse show of the year, and if I'm being honest, it was tougher than I expected.

Walking around the showgrounds without a horse of my own brought up a lot of emotions. I think I've been wandering through the grief of losing Audree and the reality that there was nothing left to fix. Making the decision to let her go was one of the hardest things I've ever done, and some days that grief sneaks up on me when I least expect it.

But there were some good things that came out of the weekend too.

We spent time talking with a trainer friend who helps match horses with riders. As luck would have it, he actually has a horse that checks many of the boxes on my wish list. Whether that horse ends up being "the one" or not, it felt good to start looking forward again.

One thing I've realized is that I see horses differently than most people.

For many riders, finding a horse is about finding "the forever horse." There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but I've learned that what I truly love is the process.

I love taking a horse and helping it reach its potential. I love building the partnership, solving the puzzles, gaining confidence together, and getting them to that sweet spot where they're ready for their next chapter. When that happens, I don't see it as an ending. I love watching them move on to their next human and their next adventure.

That mindset is pretty rare in the amateur horse world.

Sometimes it's difficult to find trainers who understand that. Some people see moving horses along as giving up or not being committed enough, but that's never been what it is for me. The journey is what fuels me. The process is what I love.

Right now, what I really need is a trainer who will help rebuild my confidence. Someone who pushes me to be better while reminding me that I do know what I'm doing. Someone who helps me trust my instincts again.

Because if there's one lesson this season is teaching me, it's that I need to trust my gut more often.

I've spent a lot of time second-guessing myself lately. But deep down, I know what works for me. I know the type of horse I enjoy. I know the process I love. And I know that when the right opportunity comes along, I'll be ready for it.

This chapter feels uncertain, but maybe that's okay.

Sometimes the next great adventure starts when you show up to a horse show without a horse and leave with a little bit of hope.

6/9/26

# Failing Is Okay (But I Could Really Use a Leprechaun Right Now)

I think I need to find a leprechaun and give it a hug because lately, I could use a little extra luck.

Recently, I had to make one of the hardest decisions I've ever faced as a horse owner—I had to put my horse, Audree, down. No matter how many animals you love throughout your life, it never gets easier. If anything, it gets harder because you know exactly what you're losing.

Every horse I've owned or leased has taught me something. Some lessons have been fun, some frustrating, and some life-changing. Audree's lesson was one of the toughest. I tried everything I could to help her. Vet visits, specialists, different treatments, different shoes—I searched for answers everywhere. But in the end, I couldn't fix it.

That was incredibly hard for me because I'm a fixer. When something is broken, I want to find a solution. I want to work harder, learn more, and figure out how to make things better. This time, there wasn't a solution, and accepting that has been one of the biggest challenges I've faced.

Right now, I'm working through the grieving process. For the past 20 years, I've always had a horse in my life. This is the first time I've been truly horseless, and honestly, there's a huge void.

To help fill some of that empty space, I've been spending more time crafting and exploring new ideas. Lately, I've been thinking about starting a magnet business. Is it a good idea? I have no clue. But maybe that's okay.

One thing I've noticed is that every successful entrepreneur talks about failure. They all say that if you haven't failed, you probably haven't taken enough chances. Failure isn't the opposite of success—it's part of the journey.

So maybe this season of life is teaching me another lesson. Maybe it's okay not to have all the answers. Maybe it's okay to try something new, even if it doesn't work out exactly as planned.

And maybe, just maybe, failing is okay.

Until then, I'll keep moving forward, one day, one project, and one lesson at a time.

Welcome to The Outer Edge Mare

Well, here it is—my very first blog post.

I've always had a lot of knowledge, stories, and experiences floating around in my head, and I finally decided it was time to put them somewhere. My hope is that something I share here might help, inspire, encourage, or simply entertain someone along the way.

Life around here is anything but boring. I'm a horse-loving mom navigating the daily chaos of raising kids, caring for dogs, chasing business dreams, exploring side hustles, and handling all the unexpected adventures that pop up in between.

Some days you'll find me at the barn. Other days I'll be working on a new business idea, creating products, or trying to figure out how to fit 48 hours into a 24-hour day. Through it all, I've learned lessons worth sharing—and plenty of stories worth telling.

So grab a cup of coffee, sit back, and enjoy the crazy chaos that is my life. Whether you're here for horses, motherhood, entrepreneurship, side hustles, dogs, or just a little inspiration, I'm glad you stopped by.

Welcome to The Outer Edge Mare. The adventure starts here.