I’ve always believed that the yard should be a place of peace and enjoyment, a small corner of the world where the smell of hay, the sounds of horses eating their hay, and the company of horses could quiet everything else going on in life.

For years, that’s exactly what it was for me. My yard was my sanctuary. Then, slowly and almost without me realising, it became somewhere I dreaded going.

It started subtly. There was no big argument, no falling out or anything I could put my finger on, but a couple of liveries started rolling their eyes when I walked past. Whispers that fell silent the moment I entered the tack room. Comments that sounded like jokes, but left me feeling strangely wrong-footed. I told myself I was imagining it, that I was being “oversensitive.” But over time, the behaviour escalated, with criticism about how I cared for my horse, snide remarks posted on the yard’s group chat, and deliberate exclusion from rides and social events that I had once been part of.

The worst part wasn’t that people were unkind; it was that I began to believe the story they were telling about me. I found myself arriving early or late to avoid others. I rushed through chores. I stopped schooling my horse because I felt watched and judged. My confidence, both in myself and in my riding, drained away without me fully noticing.

One evening, after I’d returned home from a particularly tense encounter in the stables, I sat in my car and realised I was shaking. Not just upset, I felt genuinely distressed. My horse had done nothing wrong. I had done nothing wrong. Yet it felt like the one place that once kept me steady had become another source of anxiety. That moment was the first time I allowed myself to admit that what I was experiencing wasn’t “just yard politics.” It was bullying.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. I worried I’d struggle to explain or sound dramatic. Instead, what I found was someone who listened without judgement, who understood the unique pressures of equestrian life and the emotional ties we have to our horses and yards. For the first time, I said out loud the things I had been carrying silently for months: the dread, the humiliation, the fear that I was becoming a burden at a place where I was supposed to feel safe.

The person on the helpline helped me name what was happening, and somehow, that gave me back a sense of control. Together, we talked through small, practical steps, things that felt manageable. I didn’t need to make huge decisions right away; I just needed to stabilise myself emotionally and remind myself that I was worth kindness, respect, and support.

Over the next few weeks, I started to rebuild. I confided in one trusted friend at the yard, something the helpline had encouraged me to consider when I felt ready. I began keeping a journal of incidents so I could see patterns more clearly instead of second-guessing myself. I also practised grounding techniques before arriving at the yard to help with the rising anxiety.

Eventually, the biggest step came: I moved yards. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t immediately perfect, but I can honestly say it was the right decision. My new yard feels like I’ve stepped back into the world I once loved, friendly faces, shared cups of tea, people who genuinely care about each other and their horses. My confidence is returning, slowly but definitely.

Looking back, what strikes me most is how small the first signs were, there was no big argument, and how quickly they grew when I tried to face them alone. Reaching out to Riders Minds didn’t “fix” everything overnight, but it gave me support, clarity, and the courage to take the steps I needed to protect my wellbeing.

If you’re reading this and something resonates, if you feel dread instead of joy when you arrive at the yard, if your confidence has been chipped away by the behaviour of others then please know this: you don’t have to deal with it quietly. You don’t have to question your worth. You don’t have to wait for things to get worse before reaching out.

Riders Minds was there for me when I felt voiceless, and they’ll be there for you too. You deserve to feel safe, supported, and respected — both in the saddle and beyond.

For Riders Minds support go to: 0800 088 2073 or text 07480 488 103.