Welcome back to our advice column, Ask Stable Sage, where we answer queries from readers about horse- and life-related issues, especially where the two intersect. Take our suggestions with a grain of salt, or at least one sugar cube. This column is intended for entertainment purposes only and should not be considered legal advice. 

Have a question for Stable Sage? Email it to coth.advice@gmail.com. We reserve the right to edit your submission for clarity and length, and we promise to keep it anonymous. 

Dear Stable Sage,

I’m fit, but fat. And I don’t feel bad about it. In fact, I feel good in my body—strong, confident, capable. I eat well, I exercise, and I take care of myself. This is just who I am. My horse and I are a great match in every way—skill-wise, size-wise, soul-wise. 

And yet, no matter how secure I think I feel, the judgment of others still gets under my skin. The side-eye, the whispered “poor horse” comments, the unspoken but palpable belief that I don’t belong riding at this level. I can’t help but wonder if that bias creeps into my dressage scores sometimes, too. 

I know I can’t change the entire horse world overnight, but do you have any advice?

DQ+

Dear DQ+,

You already know that you and your horse are a great team. You know that you belong in the sport. You also know systemic bias exists in dressage, whether or not it’s deliberate. What you don’t know is how to stop that knowledge from crawling under your skin and making you wonder if you’ll ever truly be seen for your skill and partnership, not just your body.

The good news: The horse world has come a long way in terms of inclusivity. More brands are making breeches, boots and riding attire that fit real humans. We’re seeing more representation of riders of all shapes and sizes, both in media and in the ring. But, sadly, we’re not there yet.

In the meantime: Those people side-eying you from the rail? They’ve already told you who they are. They’re working off outdated ideas about what a rider is “supposed” to look like. They don’t know your Pilates regimen or what you ate for breakfast. They don’t see the work you’re putting in with your horse. They just see you existing in a space they’ve decided you don’t belong in, and they don’t know what to do with that.

That’s not a “you” problem. That’s a “them” problem.

The question is, how much space in your head do you want to give these people? Because right now, you’re renting them a little corner in there, for free. You don’t owe them an explanation, a debate, or a second thought. Your horse doesn’t care what they think, so why should you?

Now, the tougher part: judging. Dressage is subjective, and bias is always lurking. Even if it’s unconscious, it’s rage-inducing because you can’t prove it. What you can do is track patterns. If certain judges consistently score you lower while others don’t, avoid them accordingly.

Surround yourself with mentors and peers who respect you and your commitment to the sport. A great trainer will focus on your riding, not your waistline, and be your best advocate. Fellow riders who respect you won’t be whispering from the sidelines; they’ll be cheering you on. The more you keep those people in your corner, the less the rest of the noise matters.

What you can’t do is let the fear of bias steal your joy. You love riding. You love your horse. That has to come first. The best way to fight systemic bias isn’t to argue with it. It’s to keep showing up, riding well and making space for yourself in this sport. The more riders who do that, the harder it becomes for the old guard to hold onto their outdated ideas.

So ride. Train. Show. Win. Lose. Surround yourself with people who get it. Keep showing up. Keep taking up space. And if anyone still has a problem with that? Let your success—and the smile on your face—do the talking.