Weekly reflection from the herd

It Took Me Four Years to Come Home to My Body

By Sunny, (One of the 9 rescue horses at Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary-translated by Anne)

It took me four years to come home to my body.

When I came to Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary, I was hurting.

Not because my people didn't love me. They loved me very much.

"Sometimes love means holding on because letting go is one of the hardest things we'll ever do."

By the time I arrived at AHHS, years without the nutrition my body needed had caused me to founder. Every step hurt. No one expected me to heal overnight. Instead, they met me where I was.

They listened. They walked beside me. One small change at a time.

Better nutrition. Gentle care. Specialized hoof care. Time to rest.

The freedom to move at my own pace. Little by little, my body began to heal. And so did my spirit.

This is the first year in four years that I truly feel good.

Do you know what everyone keeps saying?

"Sunny is getting sassy!"

They're right. I have opinions now. I wander because I'm curious—not because I'm trying to escape pain. I nudge my friends, toss my head, and sometimes make it very clear what I think.

The people at AHHS smile when they see my sass because they know what it really means.

It means I'm finally free to be myself.

Maybe your journey looks nothing like mine. Maybe your pain isn't in your feet.

Maybe it's grief. Maybe it's illness. Maybe it's anxiety. Maybe it's burnout.

Or maybe you've simply forgotten what it feels like to be yourself.

Whatever you're carrying, be gentle with yourself. Healing isn't measured by giant leaps.

More often, it's found in the smallest changes—the ones almost nobody notices until one day you realize everything has changed. One kind choice. One deep breath. One conversation. One step. One day at a time.

Healing has its own timeline. You don't have to rush it.

Sunny's Tiny Practice

Before you go today, find a small piece of paper and finish this sentence:

Today, I want to thank myself for...

Write just one thing. It doesn't have to be extraordinary. Maybe you got out of bed. Maybe you asked for help.

Maybe you kept going when things felt hard. Fold the note and tuck it somewhere you'll find it again.

Tomorrow, read it. Then write another. Tiny reminders have a way of becoming lasting change.

At Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary, we're becoming a different kind of community learning laboratory—a place where rescued horses, creativity, nature, and community help us discover that meaningful change doesn't happen all at once. It happens one experience...One relationship...One small step at a time.

Four years ago, I couldn't imagine feeling this good. Today...I'm a little sassy. I think that's worth celebrating.

Until next time,

Sunny 🐴