Disclaimer: I am not saying your trainer should always be criticizing you. Your trainer should be your biggest cheerleader. But being critical is extremely important.

There is a difference between a trainer who is mean and a trainer who gives you tough love. There is also a difference between a trainer who is constantly nitpicking and one who is genuinely invested in making you better.

As an amateur or junior, we put an incredible amount of trust and confidence in our trainers. They help us choose our horses, decide what level we should be riding at, determine when we’re ready to move up, and guide us through some of the biggest decisions we make in our riding careers. We trust them to tell us when something is working- and, perhaps more importantly, when it isn’t.

So if your trainer is never telling you that you’re doing something wrong, you have to ask yourself: What are you learning?

Praise is important. Encouragement is important. Having someone in your corner is important. But if every ride is “great job” and every mistake is brushed aside, you’re missing a huge part of the learning process. Constructive criticism is how we recognize what needs to change.

And in riding, there is always something to improve.

Even if you’re consistently going clear, scoring 86s, and winning rounds, there is still something you can do better. Maybe you could make a slightly different decision that would make the ride easier for your horse. Maybe you could communicate more clearly, ride more efficiently, or simply be more consistent.

The goal isn’t to find something wrong with every ride just for the sake of finding something wrong. The goal is to continue learning.

If your trainer stops commenting on your mistakes entirely, you’re either Lillie Keenan-or you deserve someone who is willing to speak up in the pursuit of betterment for both you and your horse.

And all jokes aside, even the best professionals in the world still seek outside opinions. No rider gets to a point where there is absolutely nothing left to learn. Sometimes another set of eyes is exactly what you need to see something you’ve become too accustomed to noticing yourself.

Tough Love Is Still Love!!!!!

There is a reason we call it tough love.

Sometimes caring about someone means telling them something they don’t want to hear. Your trainer might have to tell you that you didn’t put enough work in. That you aren’t ready for the division you want to enter. That you’re making excuses. That you asked too much of your horse. That you made a mistake in the ring. Or that, quite simply, you can do better.

None of those things necessarily mean your trainer is being mean. Sometimes they’re being honest. And sometimes honesty is uncomfortable.

I have had tearful moments where I wasn’t even consciously thinking about something- usually because I was avoiding it- and then suddenly became face-to-face with the fact that I hadn’t been putting enough work in, or that I was expecting too much from myself or my horse.

Usually, I knew it long before anyone had to say it to me. That’s what makes it hurt. Sometimes your trainer isn’t telling you something you didn’t already know. They’re just forcing you to stop avoiding it.

And sometimes you have to get your feelings hurt!!!!

Not because your trainer wants to hurt your feelings, but because they care enough to hold you accountable.

There is a huge difference between tough love and being cruel.

Tough love isn’t screaming at someone until they’re afraid to make a mistake. It isn’t belittling a rider. It isn’t humiliating someone and calling it motivation.

A trainer can be demanding without being degrading. They can tell you that you didn’t work hard enough without making you feel like you’re not good enough. They can tell you that you made a mistake without making you afraid to make another one. They can hold you to a high standard while still making it very clear that they believe in you.

That is the kind of criticism that matters.

I’ve learned that criticism from people you look up to affects you much more deeply because you care about their opinions.

If my trainer tells me I could’ve been better, I’m probably going to think about it for the rest of the day. My trainer is like a mother to me. So now and then, nobody hits me where it hurts quite like she does when I know I haven’t worked up to my full potential.

But I’ve realized that it isn’t because she’s mean. It isn’t because she’s harder on me than everyone else. It isn’t even necessarily because what she said was particularly harsh.

It hurts because I care what she thinks.

I want her to be proud of me. I want to show her that I’m listening. I want the work we’re putting in together to pay off. So when she tells me that I could have done better, it matters.

And when I finally do better, she’s usually one of the first people to notice. That’s the other side of criticism that we don’t always talk about.

The person who tells you what you’re doing wrong is often the same person who notices the moment you fix it. They remember what you struggled with six months ago. They recognize the tiny improvement that you might not even notice yourself. They know how hard you’ve worked because they’ve been there through it.

They criticize because they care- and they celebrate because they care.

Your trainer should believe in you enough to challenge you

A good trainer shouldn’t make you feel like nothing you do is ever good enough. They should make you feel like you are capable of more. There is a difference!

Sometimes your trainer knows you’re ready before you do. Sometimes they know you’re not ready before you want to admit it. Sometimes they see a problem that you’ve become too close to the situation to recognize. And sometimes they simply know you can do better.

Your trainer’s job isn’t to protect you from every uncomfortable feeling. It’s to help you become the best rider you can be- and, ultimately, to help you become the best partner you can be for your horse. Of course, not every rider wants to be pushed to the same degree. An adult amateur who rides primarily for enjoyment may not want—or need—the same level of critical commentary as a junior or competitive amateur trying to reach the highest levels. Your goals matter too.

But if you are pursuing something competitively, you have to be willing to hear what you don’t want to hear. Because you cannot improve what you refuse to acknowledge.

Your biggest cheerleader and your biggest critic.

Ultimately, your trainer should be both. MINE IS!

They should be the person cheering the loudest when you win. They should celebrate the clear round, the great score, the breakthrough, and the little victories that nobody else noticed. But they should also be the person willing to say, “That wasn’t good enough. I know you can do better.”

Those aren’t contradictory roles. They’re two sides of the same one. Your trainer shouldn’t criticize you because they don’t believe in you.

They should criticize you because they do believe in you.

Because they see potential. Because they know what you’re capable of. Because they care about your progress. Because they care about your horse.

My trainers love me more than anything… at my best, at my worst, and everything inbetween. And they’re the first two people to call me out when I know I can be a better human. I am beyond lucky.