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How do you break in a horse that doesn’t quite fit the mold of traditional methods? And how do you, as a rider, deal with personal challenges that can influence your work with an already sensitive horse? According to horse trainer Line Hummel, who specializes in working with challenging horses, breaking in a horse involves both the rider and the horse. Here, she shares the story of the Welsh pony Armani and his owner, Amanda, who found their way back after a failed breaking-in process.
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Through her company, Hestekræfter (the danish word for "horse powers"), Line Hummel offers webinars and organizes training for pairs who want to develop together. Often, these are pairs dealing with a problem or aiming to achieve better communication. In Line’s work, there’s no one-size-fits-all approach to how a horse and rider should proceed. Therefore, her work focuses on understanding the unique characteristics of each pair and tailoring a development plan accordingly.
"When I meet unhappy horses, it’s often because they can’t resolve the uncertainty within their owner. Their communication becomes increasingly tense, and both parties end up miserable."
One day, 28-year-old Amanda contacts me, concerned about her pony, Armani. She bought him as a foal and looked forward to having a beautiful riding horse with a fine pedigree. However, the breaking-in process didn’t go as planned because he turned out to have a delicate and sensitive nature. Additionally, he has a locking stifle joint in his hind leg, which adds to his insecurity and poor balance.
Amanda sends him to be broken in by an experienced rider she trusts, someone who will take the time to proceed slowly. Armani is broken in, but the days of success are matched by days of failure. It’s very unpredictable when Armani will tolerate a rider on his back. He returns home to Amanda, who continues the training with some friends.
But things go downhill. Both Amanda and Armani become increasingly unhappy. Amanda doubts whether there’s something physically wrong with him, so she calls in a vet, a farrier, a dentist, and a clairvoyant to examine him.
Armani clearly shows that he doesn’t want a rider on his back. He bolts forward as soon as Amanda tries to mount, and she feels rejected by him whenever she tries to work with him.
The clairvoyant tells her that Armani is miserable because he senses she’s considering selling him, and that he’s so unhappy he would rather die. Amanda’s heart is broken—what is she supposed to do? According to the vet, nothing is physically wrong, but there’s no doubt: Armani is stressed and depressed.
At this point, Amanda is facing many other challenges in her life. Is she in the right educational program? Her three horses take time, and past relationships haven’t always supported her.
There are many reasons why Amanda and I cross paths. She calls me and explains the problem with Armani. It reminds me a lot of the challenges I had with my own horse, Karo (the Friesian mare Karolien Vané Drifte), so we agree to meet.
When I arrive at the stable, Armani is both sad and frightened. Amanda has given up on breaking him in properly, and she’s now unsure if he even wants to be with her—or in this world at all.
"It’s no wonder research shows that horse girls often make good leaders and perform well in the workplace. I’m convinced it’s because when you succeed with a horse, you’ve also worked on yourself."
I can hardly approach Armani without him showing signs of stress. I let him observe me while I talk to Amanda. During the conversation, both Amanda’s and my nervous systems calm down, the atmosphere is pleasant, and Armani quietly steps forward to the stall door to greet us. I respect his pace and remain calm—even though I want to hug him and assure him that everything will be okay. I’m determined to help Amanda and Armani reconnect.
We continue to discuss what we’ll work on over the next six months. We’ll focus on building Amanda’s confidence and self-esteem so she can shine just as much as Armani will. He is a magnificent horse, and very proud. He’ll show this clearly later in our journey when we discover Armani’s favorite exercise.
After Amanda and I have talked for a while, Armani is ready to come out and greet me fully. We take him to the enclosed riding arena, and I walk around with him to get to know him.
At first, it’s as if he’s walking on eggshells, and his eyes are filled with worry. I can see he needs to ground himself, but I can also see that he doesn’t know how.
So, I start asking him to take small steps to one side and the other. I can’t hold a stick in my hand because it’s too intense for him. Instead, I face him, walk backward slowly, and open up the space to the right while pointing at his left flank, as if my finger is sending a gentle tap from me to him. Armani gracefully moves to the right. We walk a bit further (I’m still walking backward), and I switch hands, open the space to the opposite side, and point at the flank. Armani moves gracefully and calmly to the left.
I even ask Amanda if she’s ever trained him in lateral movements or leg yields from the ground before, but she hasn’t.
We had a horse who understood all the subtle non-verbal cues. He understood when I showed him the way with my body and head without touching him. It wasn’t his communication that was the problem—it was ours. He must have felt that everything done with him before was loud and exaggerated. Like a pious monk ending up in a military academy—completely bewildered.
When I meet unhappy horses, it’s often because they can’t resolve the uncertainty within their owner. Their communication becomes increasingly tense, and both parties end up miserable. That’s why it’s crucial with these particularly sensitive horses that we get our own issues under control. Here, I’m talking about self-trust.
So, the biggest task Amanda faces at this point is finding her inner core, her inner peace—and discovering what’s important to her. If we’re uncertain or unclear with ourselves, we’ll be the same with others and our horses. Being clear with the horse isn’t about being in charge, and it’s certainly not about putting the horse in its place. It’s about being clear as a human and as a person. Amanda embarks on significant personal growth, which proves valuable in her work, her studies, and her family.
"Being clear with the horse isn’t about being in charge, and it’s certainly not about putting the horse in its place. It’s about being clear as a human and as a person."
It’s no wonder that research shows horse girls often make good leaders and perform well in the workplace. I’m convinced it’s because when you succeed with a horse, you’ve also worked on yourself. You’ve learned to experiment, read situations, adapt yourself, and stay focused on what you’re doing.
So while Amanda works on self-awareness and builds her self-esteem, we work with Armani from the ground.
Before we start breaking him in for the second time, Amanda and Armani need to learn to communicate. First and foremost, from the ground. Here, we use poles, toys, and a tree stump. The tree stump becomes Armani’s favorite exercise. He becomes so fond of it that Amanda can use it as a reward instead of treats. And when we look at him in that posture, we can clearly see what a proud horse he is. He deserves to be honored and collaborated with—not shouted at.
Amanda also needs to teach him to be on a lunge line and not just meander behind her back. But the challenge for Armani is that he feels rejected when she sends him out on the lunge. The stronger their connection becomes, the easier it is to send him out. On the lunge line, Armani can work on lengthening, rounding himself, and improving his balance. We place poles and later cavaletti.
As I mentioned earlier, Armani has a locking stifle joint, and if this is to be alleviated, he needs more strength so the joint can fall into place.
In short, Armani needs more independence in moving forward without his rider. The driving lines help us with this. In the lines, Amanda can have Armani out in front, and he slowly starts to trust that Amanda can show him the way. Here, they can practice both forward signals, directions, and—very important for safe and secure riding—the stop signal from the reins.
When we practice this signal while walking beside the horse, it’s hard to tell whether the horse stops because we stop or because it understands that a light pull on the bit means stop. By training the stop signal from behind, it becomes a very clear signal we give to the horse. And there’s another bonus: We can observe the horse’s movement pattern from behind. Does it swing evenly in the pelvis? Does it have straight tail carriage? How does it step under the body with its hind legs? How do they extend backward? With all this information, we can create exercises to ensure Armani has the full balance and body strength to carry a rider before we mount.
Over six months, we go through a lot of training and exercises. But the day Amanda is to mount him, we record it on film, of course. Amanda is nervous about falling off. So the first thing we do is calm Amanda’s nervous system. The sun is shining, and the arena is nicely dry. We walk around the arena, I lead Armani, and Amanda walks alongside.
We’re often told to take deep breaths, and then we’ll calm down, but my experience shows that we can take a deep breath without necessarily achieving calm and natural breathing. The best way I’ve found to ground riders is by feeling their feet first. We need to get all the way down and feel the ground, feel our heels, toes, and boots. Then we slowly work our way up to the legs, and in this way, we eventually focus on our entire body. When we’ve done this, our breathing is usually natural and calm. It’s this present and embodied awareness that horses love to lean into, and we can use it in many of the challenges we face.
Amanda mounts up, and we walk around, doing the same exercise with the body, and she dismounts again. Her smile is broad, and I can hardly wait for the next time.
A couple of months later, I borrow a horse, and we ride in the forest. Armani loves being there, and it’s the loveliest ride I’ve had in a long time. The autumn leaves cover the ground. We started in January with a frustrated rider and a depressed pony—and here we are, riding side by side into a whole new chapter of Amanda and Armani’s life.
Amanda has grown fond of working more with horses and people, and as a future social and healthcare assistant with a passion for children with challenges, I look forward to seeing how Amanda will use her new knowledge of horses, people, and self-awareness to create a wonderful opportunity for disabled children and young people.
I asked Amanda if she would share a few words about her experience on the journey she and Armani have been on. Thankfully, she agreed. I also teach Amanda how to ride her heavier horse, Matti. We’ve eliminated the strenuous work it used to take to keep him going by working more with energy and new, light basic signals. They are two very different horses, which only makes Amanda a better rider. Here are Amanda’s own words.
“During the process, I gained a new understanding of Armani. I’ve gained more control over my emotions and can use Armani as a mirror. I can better read his body language. Before Line came, he would fidget and ‘be on alert’ for a long time before calming down. Now I can see when he tenses up if I’m affected by emotions from work, school, or elsewhere. I ground myself, and Armani calms down. I can see it physically in him, and his eyes have become much softer over the past few months.”
“Before Line came, I was frustrated. I had broken in horses before, so what was wrong? I began to doubt my horsemanship and kept looking for what I was doing wrong. It was a defeat—two steps forward and five steps back. Line and I completed a six-month process, and after eight months, we rode in the forest. I was close to tears. I had to remind myself to relax in the saddle because I forgot to breathe and stiffened my hips out of fear that Armani would bolt. But the whole ride, he remained relaxed.”
“I learned in just two lessons with Line with my heavy pinto, Matti, to use the right energy and transfer it to the riding. With Armani, I used to transfer the energy to guide him around the arena. As Line writes, he was insecure, and I was extremely cautious. He would flinch at grooming or even when I just ran my hand over him. I later realized he was in extremely close contact with his nervous system. So my small, gentle touches tickled him, and he would jump to the side. I learned that I needed to rub him so he could feel me without being rough.”
"My two steps forward and five steps back have changed to where I dare to believe it’s okay. That all work has its ebbs and flows, and that we all have bad days and periods—even the horse."
“Armani needs a calm leader who can show him the way to better self-esteem. Lunge work has been a challenge, but with the help of leadership, energy transfer, and collaboration, we’ve learned to lunge loosely and change direction, both with and without aids. He’s become a happier pony and no longer blends in with the field. He plays with his two brothers and puts them in their place—even though they’re twice his size. His confidence is unshakable.”
“Personally, I’ve learned to breathe and feel myself. To realize that it’s okay to fail. My two steps forward and five steps back have changed to where I dare to believe it’s okay. That all work has its ebbs and flows, and that we all have bad days and periods—even the horse. Now I know that when Armani has a bad day, we just do tricks and groundwork or go for a forest ride.”
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