Moms, Get A Hobby
by Megan Blanchard
The other day my mom was like, “Riding has been good for you,” which is her way of saying, “You’re less of a B lately.”
She’s right. I’m 36, and since quitting gymnastics at age sixteen, I’ve pursued various joyless forms of wellness. I muddled through my 20s with hobbies like facials, shopping, wine, bad decisions, bartending, worse decisions, every fitness trend in the book, and even more mind-bogglingly bad decisions. Somehow, I never turned into a better person.
Until I had my daughter.
Then I realized that in addition to putting her first and not ever fucking up in the slightest, I had to amount to more than a chores-machine. I had to do something that brings me joy, so she could see how self-actualization works. Plus, I heard empty nest came fast. I needed to get a hobby lined up before little elf left home to attend the university of constant great decisions.
Enter: horses.
Before I landed on riding, I tried other things. Yoga was boring. Needlepoint was therapeutic, but not enough. Spa days were too temporary, and like cleaning toilets, had to be repeated at annoyingly regular intervals.
Let me clear the air about this horseback riding hobby aka “the sport of kings.”
I’m not rich, in fact, more than once I’ve been called trash. Stories for another day.
I am fortunate to work full-time and make a decent living. My barn has its share of tweens on five-figure show horses. Everyone knows I’m a non-horse-owning beginner. But I’m not the only one, and I am getting a little less sucky every time I ride. I look forward to every lesson the same way I looked forward to gymnastics practice when I was a tween.
I have more energy, and it’s not because I sleep more. It’s because I have joy. I even cleaned the toilets the other day without my husband asking me to. That’s a sign of a happy person if I’ve ever seen one. And on my birthday, I got to share a riding lesson with my daughter. Very freaking special.
It’s not like my family was a fan of this at first. They pointed out the obvious, “It’s expensive. You have so much else on your plate.” I said, “I hereby stop buying clothes and limit the number of serums in my shelfie.”
They came around because they saw the positive changes in me. Now, they pick up the slack for me when I’m at the barn, and I pick up the slack for them when they need time. For the first time, I can do that gladly, without resentment.
Most working moms will face pushback when penciling in a new hobby, simply because their families have never had to make room for it. Be persistent! It wasn’t easy to convince my family that riding mattered, but I’m so glad I stuck with it.
I’m not telling you to go ride, unless that’s what you love. I’m suggesting that you take the first step and interrogate yourself. What really brings you joy? Not one pound closer to nirvana, or one serum closer to a permanent state of glow – what makes you so happy, you even enjoy being bad at it?
Now, before you go off and make a mood board, let’s talk about being an adult beginner at anything.
We’ve been taught to be perfect our whole lives, and wow, what a farce, huh? It’s hard to shake that mentality, even when we’re aware that perfection is a rabbit hole that leads to a rat’s nest. I’d be lying if I claimed it’s painless to suck. What helps is finding activities in groups at, or only slightly above your level. Remember, you’re a spectacular human, so you’ll be part of the “slightly above” cohort in no time.
In my twenties, I took improv classes, but the only professional actor in the class was the teacher. The other students were dopes like me who were lucky if they had a funny every seven weeks or so. In those classes though, we all laughed raucously from start to finish. It was scary performing, no doubt, but it was the kind of scary that makes you brave.
I’ll give you the opposite example. I once signed up for a dance class where I was the only amateur in the class, and by the end, the instructor was snapping at me to get out of the way. That wasn’t fun at all. That was really embarrassing, and not fun, and I don’t recommend it, except maybe it would make a good sketch.
Only you can decide what you are willing to tolerate, but I can bet if you pick something where you aren’t the only beginner in the group, you’ll be fine. Scared at first, but fine. And after you do it, you’ll feel proud. Eventually you’ll be confident enough to mess up without feeling the slightest bit embarrassed. That’s when you know you’re on to something.
You and your family deserve a joyful mama, partner, daughter, sister. Insist on it. Insist on your hobby, and whatever you choose, don’t be afraid to suck at first. If you stick with it, you and your whole family will reap the benefits.
Megan Blanchard lives in Texas, prefers California, and believes horses are people, too. You can find more of her articles here.
