Before she ever put a foot in a stirrup, Liberty was already in love with the arena.
As a toddler, she would sit in the stands and go completely still the moment the trick riders came thundering in. The world shrank to three things:
✨ the glittering costumes,
🐎 the fast horses,
🌪️ and the girls who seemed to defy gravity.
They weren’t just riders to her — they were superheroes in sequins.
The First “Yes”
For years, the dream lived in her head first.
She begged for lessons the way some kids beg for new toys: persistently, creatively, and absolutely convinced it was meant to be.
When she was eight, the answer finally became yes.
On the day of her very first lesson, the air in the arena smelled like dust and leather and possibility. The saddle felt too big, the reins felt strange in her hands — but the moment the horse moved under her, everything inside clicked into place.
She was home.
It took exactly four weeks for her to go from first lesson to first performance.
While most new riders were still learning how to post the trot, Libertys was already learning how to trust speed, timing, and the feeling of hanging just a little closer to the edge of gravity than most people would ever dare.
She didn’t just enjoy it. She recognized it.
This wasn’t a phase. This was her thing.
Enter Blair
Liberty met Blair in September 2019 — a so-called “finished” trick riding horse who, in reality, only knew two things: go fast and stop dramatically. Precision? Balance? Basic steering? Optional.
So Liberty didn’t just train her — she reprogrammed her.
Bit by bit, she taught Blair everything from basic flatwork to Roman riding and even jumping. It wasn’t exactly smooth — Blair had horsepower and opinions. But Liberty had a background with fast barrel horses, so speed didn’t scare her, and attitude wasn’t new.
At first, Blair was intimidating.
Then challenging.
Then something clicked —
She stopped just running, and started listening.
That’s when Liberty stopped just riding, and started trusting.
And that’s where their real partnership began.
There were tumbles.
There were almost-tumbles.
There were sessions that ended in laughter and others that ended with dirt on her face and new bruises to catalog.
But every time, she got back on.
And every time, Blair was there, waiting for the next attempt.
Follow her on Instagram: @libertys.legend
