03/21/2026
I wish I could say that the only risk that this career comes with is the inherent risk of being around horses, but that isnāt reality. Reality is that harassment, stalking, sexual harassment and assault are also a risk. From clients, their spouses, their parents or friends.
When youāre used to normal business, trimming normal horses, at a normal barn, having a normal conversation⦠the sudden comment of insinuation or flirtation is strange or uncomfortable.
Theyāre married and/or twice my age, why are they speaking to me like that? Why do they keep trying to hug me? Theyāre touching me all the sudden? Why are they doing this? They were a normal client a minute ago?
In the moment, itās shocking and you freeze initially- thatās what movies and books always get wrong. You donāt immediately draw a boundary, smack their hand away, or shout at them. Youāre frozen for a moment or longer, your brain trying to rationalize this unthinkable scenario. Then afterwards youāre running it through your head āI shouldāve done this, I shouldāve said this, should I have called the policeā.
Itās not your fault, you didnāt do anything wrong. THEY are the perpetrator, THEY shouldāve kept their uncomfortable comments and/or hands to themselves.
A few years ago I was trimming a clients horses. Their father was present and was talking to me about trimming and the modern approaches. The client went into the house for a few minutes, the father stayed to chat. Normal conversation. He said that my hoof stand was fancy. I said āyeah, I think the horses appreciate the fabric cradleā. To which he replied āwell right now Iām looking at YOUR cradleā and smacked my buttocks.
I froze for a moment. Did that REALLY just happen??? My stomach felt like a pit and I felt violated. Disgusted. Angry. The client came back outside, the father tried to resume conversation but I stayed silent the rest of the appointment. Accepted payment and left. I didnāt reply back to the client for a few texts but eventually did and asked if we could schedule a day when her father wasnāt there. When I went out there she asked me if everything was okay and if sheād done anything to offend me. I told her what happened. Her jaw dropped. We sat in silence for a minute. Eventually she said āI donāt know what to say. Iām so sorry. I canāt believe he did that. Iām shocked. Iām so sorry.ā
We agreed it would be better to no longer do business, and she would only hire male farriers from then on.
I spent the next few days running it all through my head. Should I have yelled at him? Hit him? Called the police? Should I have immediately packed my tools and left?
No, I shouldnāt have had to do any of that, because he shouldāve been a decent person and treated me like a human being and not an object, and kept his damn rotten hands to himself.