A Man Learning to Be Still

After my divorce, I stopped showing up to friendships, to family, to life. I was polite, but distant. I told myself I was fine, just busy. But standing outside Kito’s pen, watching his ears flick and his body flinch at every movement, I saw my own armor in his.

So I started visiting. Not to ride. Not to tame. Just to sit. I’d bring a folding chair and sit outside his paddock, reading or saying nothing at all. It took weeks before he came close enough to sniff my hand. Months before he let me brush him.

Kito didn’t need pressure. He needed presence. So did I.

What Kito Gave Me

Now, Kito lets me ride him, calm, steady, proud. But the gift he gave me is much bigger than that. He taught me that trust isn’t earned through grand gestures, it’s built in the quiet, in the showing up, in the stillness.

And in learning to earn his trust, I finally learned to trust myself again.