Guest article written by Samantha Carter
I’d been trying to outrun trauma for most of my life, knowing full well that I struggled with mental illness yet convincing myself every day that I was fine. I had to keep up the pace, or so I thought, to get beyond the cards life had dealt me.
I refused to stay stuck. I simply wouldn’t accept a life defined by struggle, abandonment, and distorted relationships. No- my life was destined for meaning. I was destined for greatness, though I had no idea yet how I’d get there. I believed that if I just kept running, eventually my soul would find its way home.
But the funny thing about running from your pain is that it never really lets you go. My shadows caught up to me, piece by piece. The pressure of all that I thought I’d healed began to bubble up again, then burst.
Facing the Shadows
When I became a mother, the floodgates opened. Memories I’d buried deep began to resurface: the screaming and yelling I fell asleep to most nights as a child, the shaking in my small body as I clutched stuffed animals for comfort, the time I dialed “9-9-1” instead of “9-1-1” while my stepfather choked my mom, the memory of being molested at three years old, the father who was never there, the mother who was emotionally unavailable, and the grandmother who despite being a metaphysical teacher herself – caused me more harm than anyone else.
The echoes of those memories seemed to hum beneath the sound of my baby’s cries, each wail sending my nervous system into a tailspin. I wasn’t just depressed anymore. I was unraveling. What I didn’t realize then was that postpartum depression had cracked open something much deeper within me- a desperate attempt by my soul to finally heal.
I tried to fight through it, to keep going for my child’s sake. But the harder I tried, the more my body and spirit gave out. I was depleted. Broken. Empty.
I began to wonder:
Was this it for me? Did I survive all that trauma only to spend my life taking care of everyone but myself? When was it my turn to be cared for?
I melted under the weight of it all. I couldn’t see a way out. Though I had thought about suicide in the past, this time was different—I began planning it. For weeks I researched methods, all while telling my therapist and husband what was happening inside me. I was desperate for an escape, yet terrified to leave my baby and spouse behind. It felt like an impossible choice.
For six weeks, I lived under constant suicide watch. I barely got out of bed. My husband took over everything, while I unraveled completely.
Then one day, a quiet thought surfaced…a whisper that would change everything:
“What if you began living for you?”
Not just surviving for everyone else. Not just running to stay ahead of the pain. But truly living—in a way that felt real, full, and wholly authentic. What would that even look like?
I sat with that question and, slowly, something began to stir inside me—a faint pulse of life I hadn’t felt in years. My soul started to speak:
I want peace. I want joy. I want true freedom. I want to feel connected to something greater than myself. I want to feel at home in my body. I want to feel lovable. I want to feel less alone.
But how? How do you translate such big desires into small, tangible steps?
Then, an image came to mind: horses.
Choosing Me, Choosing Horses
I’d always loved horses. I’d ridden them a few times on trails growing up, and I used to dream of taking lessons as a child. But with a single mom on food stamps, it was never an option for me. Horses were expensive.
Still, this was my life on the line and, as an adult, I could finally choose where to invest my energy—and my healing. If getting on a horse could help me find hope again, then I’d spend money I didn’t have to make it happen. Looking back, that was one of the first times I deeply loved myself without even realizing it.
It started with equine therapy sessions. Then came riding lessons. Through working with horses, I began reconnecting with my body in ways I hadn’t known were possible. Horses reflected my emotions back to me with such accuracy that I couldn’t hide from myself anymore. Their calm presence grounded me. Their movements invited me into rhythm. My nervous system, so long trapped in survival mode finally began to soften.
The gentle rocking of my hips in the saddle released old trauma that had been stored in my muscles and tissues for years. The more I rode, the lighter I felt. The process was physical, emotional, and profoundly spiritual.
Just like my baby learning to crawl, then walk, then run—I, too, was learning how to move through life again.
The Science Behind Equine Therapy
What I came to discover is that this wasn’t magic, it was biology. Horses are prey animals with highly attuned nervous systems. They sense human emotion and respond instantly to nonverbal cues like heart rate, breath, and muscle tension. This sensitivity allows them to mirror back our internal state, helping us become aware of what’s happening in our own bodies.
Research has shown that interacting with horses can lower cortisol (the stress hormone), regulate heart rate variability, and stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system (the part responsible for rest and healing). Trauma often lives in the body, not just the mind, and horses help us access that somatic layer of recovery.
In short, horses don’t judge or analyze—they feel. And in doing so, they invite us to feel too.
It’s Not All Love and Light
Over time, I started feeling like myself again, but stronger, softer, and more grounded than ever before. Some days still felt hard, but others felt radiant, and that was enough to keep me going.
I began writing about my journey—first in journals, then as a memoir, It’s Not All Love and Light. My words poured out like something sacred that needed to be born. I wanted others who felt broken to know they weren’t alone, that healing was possible.
Two years later, that memoir became a published book, recognized nationally by American Book Fest. The act of sharing my story became another form of healing, a reminder that even our deepest pain can be transformed into purpose.
New Era, New Challenges
Since releasing my book, life hasn’t been without new challenges. Last year, my family lost our home to Hurricane Helene. We’re still rebuilding. But we have each other, our health, and a sense of purpose that guides us forward.
After nearly a decade in the mental health field, I once felt too broken to continue helping others. But that has since changed. I’ve faced the darkness within me, and now I’m ready to walk others through theirs…this time, with horses by my side.
Horses carry a sacred wisdom. They don’t need words to teach us how to be present. They help us access what we’ve suppressed, gently guiding us to the places where healing begins. They show us what peace feels like. They model joy. They embody freedom.
Riding Home
Next year, I’ll begin my Master’s in Clinical Mental Health Counseling with a focus on Equine Therapy. Sometimes I still cry thinking about the life I almost lost and the one I’m now creating because of these extraordinary beings.
Equine therapy might not be your path, but I hope my story inspires you to ask:
- What lights your soul on fire?
- What makes you feel alive just for you?
- What could you run toward instead of running away from?
Whatever it is—run. Sprint toward it. Jump. Fly. Because what’s waiting for you on the other side of that choice is far more beautiful than you can imagine.
You are worth every ounce of joy and peace this life has to offer.
Don’t give up—give in to life. Give in to healing, to meaning, to the quiet truth that you were never meant to just survive. You were meant to thrive.
And when you’re ready, I’ll be here, as a fellow mental health traveler, an author who knows what it’s like to live in darkness, and soon to be, equine therapist. Together, we can find our way home.
About the Author:
Born and raised in Boulder Creek, California, Samantha has been getting lost in the world of words for as long as she can remember. It’s Not All Love and Light marks her debut publication as an author, but it’s only the beginning. With several new projects already in motion, she has no plans of slowing down anytime soon! Samantha’s long-term vision is to become an equine therapist while continuing to write books that inspire reflection, healing, and personal growth. You can support her journey by following along on social media or visiting her website: www.samanthacarterauthor.com. When she’s not writing, Samantha can usually be found practicing yoga and mindfulness, horseback riding, hiking mountain trails with her dogs, or tending to her two-acre homestead in Western North Carolina with her family.