Sofia Sonet Dressage

On the way home from the Georgia Dressage and Combined Training Association Show in Conyers. Everyone did so good. It was such a fun weekend! Special things to Betsy Kaywood for all of her help. Thanks to my awesome working student Kathryne Hammond, who got all of her qualifying second level scores towards her bronze medal! I again had the pleasure of showing Sue Lekas’s wonderful Mare Mia (my first show since having my daughter!) Mia was perfection. Cannot wait for the next show!

Great time at the GDCTA show! Amy and her boy Koz hit their goal and conquered training level!

Well done today, Sofia Sonet Dressage!
See you tomorrow for more. 😀

Some arena thoughts....

• The arena is a truth serum. Ride long enough, and it tells you exactly who you are.

• Dressage is spiritual practice disguised as sport. It punishes your impatience. It rewards your awareness.

• Dressage is just stillness, applied to movement.

• Suppleness is the body’s way of saying “I trust you".

• A dressage arena is just a mirror. And most riders are afraid of what it reflects.

• Ride with the faith that your horse is becoming who you believe it can be.

• You don’t need louder aids. You need better timing.

• Every bad ride is tuition. Pay it. Ride again.

• You don’t achieve connection. You become someone a horse wants to connect with.

• True riders don’t ride to win. They ride to become.

• You can’t fake softness. You can’t pretend to be calm. You have to become it.

• True lightness isn’t the absence of pressure, it’s the presence of understanding.

• Riding isn’t about controlling the horse. It’s about managing yourself so the horse doesn’t have to.

• Progress is invisible, until it’s not.

• You can’t fake collection. The horse will either lift, or lean.

• If you're not failing in the arena, you're not learning, you're performing.

• You don’t fix mistakes. You understand them.

• No one masters dressage. They just get really good at not quitting.

Lucky to see this everyday ♥️

😊💃

✨ Exciting things happening at Dauviana Equestrian ✨

I’m so proud to be training out of Dauviana Equestrian in Canton! A beautiful facility set on 50+ acres with trails, beautiful well maintained arenas, spacious stalls, exceptional horse care, and a supportive team atmosphere!

I offer full or partial training and lessons for riders who want correct fundamentals, confident partnerships, and competitive results all while keeping the horse’s wellbeing and happiness first.

Whether you’re starting a young horse or polishing upper-level work, I’d love to help you grow!

Message me for availability 🤍

That's Nutmeg. My one foal who had the audacity to survive. Someday, the centerline is hers. But let me explain....

I've been thinking about luck lately.

Not in a self-pity way. More in a... "why does this sport work like this" way.

Here's what I mean.

Six months ago, if I started eating clean, lifting three days a week, and running, like actually running, not just thinking about running, I would be measurably healthier by now. Guaranteed. The input produces the output. The math is honest. Effort in, results out. Not perfectly, not linearly, but directionally? Always.

I find the same with my business. You make the calls, you write the emails, you show up consistently for six months, you will have more customers than when you started. The work has an address. It goes somewhere.

But frustratingly, dressage doesn't work like that.

I've watched people in this sport work for decades. Serious, dedicated, talented people. People who ride at 6am in February. People who skip vacations, drive four-horse trailers across the country, spend money they don't really have on the right trainer, the right saddle, the right everything.
And then the horse dies.

Or goes lame.

Or the farrier can just never get the feet quite right.

Or the suspensory blows on the best horse they've ever sat on, a month before their first CDI.

A couple years ago I decided to keep 3 foals. Within six months, two of them were dead. Freak accidents. Both of them. The kind of thing you can't plan for, can't manage, can't prevent. Just gone.

My prior horse? Developed heart issues at age 12.

The one after that? Suspensory. Retired.

The one after that? Feet. Retired.

You start to feel like the sport is running a very specific kind of joke on you. And the punchline keeps landing the same way.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Wellington right now, there's a nineteen year old having the time of her life.

Her dad bought her two Grand Prix horses.

She didn't break them in. She didn't sit through the four-year-old confidence building, or the five-year-old show tension or the six-year-old "I've changed my mind about flying changes." She didn't bury anyone. She just showed up to an already-made thing and started collecting scores.

And good for her, honestly. I mean that. It's not her fault.

But it does make you ask the question nobody in the equestrian world wants to say out loud:

How much of this sport is skill, and how much of it is just not having bad luck?

I don't have a clean answer.

What I have is this: I've stopped pretending the sport is meritocratic. It isn't. It rewards persistence, yes. Skill, yes. But it also requires a large level of luck, with horses staying sound and staying alive, that no other serious athletic pursuit demands.

When a marathon runner trains for two years and gets injured the week before the race, that's devastating. But they still have the two years of fitness. The body they built. The discipline they developed. The work lives in them whether they cross the finish line or not.

When a dressage rider loses a horse, the work doesn't live in them the same way. Yes, you carry what they taught you. The feel they gave you. The mistakes they showed you. But the partnership is gone. The vehicle is gone. And you can't just lace up a new pair of shoes and go again. You have to find another living creature, build trust from scratch, and hope the luck holds this time.

And you're expected to just... start again.

I think about the people who stayed anyway.

Who buried horses and bought young ones and started over, quietly, without making it anyone else's problem. Who kept their name on the entry forms even when the results didn't reflect the sacrifice behind them.

That's not just athletic commitment. That's something closer to faith.

Faith that the work matters even when the math doesn't add up. Faith that the next horse might be the one that stays sound. Faith that the sport owes you nothing and you're going to show up for it anyway.

I don't know if that's beautiful or insane.

Probably both.

But hey, welcome to dressage.

Leg stability doesn't develop from telling students to stop gripping or push their heels down. Students comply in the moment, then revert the second you stop watching because compliance isn't the same as skill development. Or they jam their heels down which isn't correct either.

Real leg stability - the kind that holds up through spooky moments, difficult horses, and advanced work - comes from something deeper. Proprioceptive awareness, correct muscle recruitment patterns, and understanding that relaxation creates more security than tension ever could.

Most students have been fighting their own bodies for years trying to force a position that should actually feel natural. They grip because they feel insecure or it can be a bad habit that was not addressed by a knowledgeable instructor.

Breaking that cycle requires more than just verbal corrections! It requires exercises that rebuild the foundation - from the ground up, literally - and gives students real tools for developing genuine independent position.

These twelve exercises do that and some you've probably seen before. Some exercises might surprise you but all of them give students something more useful than 'heels down' - actual physical feedback, muscle memory development, and progressive challenges that build real stability over time.

Give it a read. Your students' legs will thank you!

🔷 Link to blog post in comments! (sorry FB doesn't like links in posts)

What exercises to you like to use for leg stability in your program?

🚨 Unpopular Opinion (but your dressage scores will thank you):
If you’re blaming the judge… it’s probably not the judge.

Here are 6 simple things most riders say they do but actually don’t and it’s costing you marks 👇

1️⃣ Transitions aren’t “good enough” just because they happened
Smooth, balanced, prompt transitions matter more than flashy movements. If your rhythm changes, so should your expectations.

2️⃣ Accuracy is free points… and people still leave them on the table
Wobbly centerlines, drifting circles, and “close enough” geometry? Judges see it all. Ride the test, not your feelings.

3️⃣ Forward ≠ fast
Impulsion comes from engaged hind legs and real connection, not rushing. If the contact isn’t honest, the movement won’t be either.

4️⃣ Your position matters more than you think
A crooked rider creates a crooked horse. Strong core, quiet seat, clear aids, not constant micromanaging.

5️⃣ Presentation influences first impressions (yes, it does)
A polished horse, tidy turnout, and confident riding sets the tone before you even halt. It’s not superficial, it’s part of the sport.

6️⃣ Reflection beats excuses every time
Talk to your trainer, coach, or barn friend. Not every test will go to plan but avoiding honest feedback guarantees nothing changes next time.

💬 Hot take: Most riders don’t need harder movements… they need better basics.

Agree? Disagree?
Tell me which one you’re working on, or which one you think judges overvalue 👇

Source of image: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impulsion