The Emotional Turmoil Of Trainer Fallout
Why does it seem like a near impossible feat to exit gracefully from a trainer’s barn and riding program? No matter how long of a relationship you’ve had with said professional, it always feels like a dicey moment to reveal your intention to move on.
In reality, I feel lucky to mostly have had good experiences when leaving one boarding barn or trainer and transitioning to the next for whatever reason. Most of my stays are years-long with great memories and good working relationships. But even in the most cordial exits, that sense of dread looms large.
I was reminded of this recently. I moved my horse to a new boarding barn to work with a specific trainer as my riding goals shifted over time. I gave the appropriate 30-days notice at my current boarding barn, as outlined in our contract, and explained to the trainer there why I felt like this change would be good for me and my horse. The conversation at the time went really well. This trainer was someone I had known in the community for many years, and had previously boarded with them (with another horse). She seemed to understand my motivation for moving – it wasn’t personal. Who knows, maybe I’d be back for a third time someday.
But then our exit came. The trainer became a little despondent. I had to negotiate over taking some hay and feed to transition my horse into the new farm’s program (understandable). On the day I moved out for good, I put a thank you card in the mailbox for the trainer, expressing my gratitude for her care, expertise and friendship over the years, and looking forward to catching up with her at horse shows in the future. Then off we went.
It’s been some time since I left that farm. I semi-regularly interact with that trainer online and still have friends who board and ride there. So when I was invited by a friend to come over recently, I was shocked when the trainer told the friend no, I was no longer allowed on her property. No additional explanation was given.
I racked my brain for distant memories of what could have lead to this rift. In my own eyes, I was an exemplary boarder. I never paid late, I was there for every vet or farrier appointment, I helped out around the property when she needed an extra hand, and I always tried to be a good team player and cheerleader for the entire show team. I bought her gifts for her birthday and Christmas every year. I let her clients borrow my stuff – from tack to show attire, when someone needed it.
There’s no way to know what’s going on in someone else’s head without asking them directly, of course. And it takes two, right? I understand there may be something I said or did that could have caused some offense. Or maybe it’s something my horse did. I tried to put myself in her shoes. But I guess I’ll never know if I don’t ask her myself.
The horse world is a small one, built on relationships of trust and a common passion for the animal. When that trust is broken, the hurt runs deep. The hardest part is realizing that at the end of the day, this is still a business arrangement. And the fact that we treat the people we meet in the barn like family makes it complicated. My hurt feelings stem more from realizing I never had a true friendship with this trainer, just a transactional one. I carried on for a long time assuming the business was part of it, but not all of it. Maybe that was my mistake.