How does one lose their identity? It’s quite simple, really.

on a glass castle shattering. (no paywall today)

Disclaimer: Hi. My Wednesday posts are usually paid, but I made this one free today because it feels right. This was not what I had planned to write about. It came out at my peak emotional breakdown on Monday night. Nothing I’ve posted on here has ever made me nervous - not even my mental health deep dive - but this? This is the most vulnerable thing I’ve publicly shared in my life. So, please be kind. And perhaps, if you have advice, I would appreciate it.

How does one lose their identity?

It’s quite simple, really. And it starts the way many good stories do - with a little girl and her pony and hope and scrunching your nose at the thought of ever being twenty three.

I’m a horseback rider, she says proudly. I’ve been riding since I was six.

Did you know that when someone asks me about myself, this is the first thing that comes to mind after my name? That every fun fact question includes this, two truths and a lie, any game or introduction.

My name is Isabel, and I’ve ridden horses since I was six years old.

I have slowly been losing that identity for the last year and a half, and it is just hitting me now.

How do you lose half of your identity?

It’s quite simple, really. You fall in love.

I’m a selfish, impatient person. When someone asks for something of mine, my gut instinct is to squeeze it to my chest.

Do I love something enough to let it go?

I am a horseback rider. Vinnie is my horse. He molded me into the independent, strong willed person I am today. He was with me during my worst, caused some of my worst, and he found me at my best. Everyday with him only got better.

He was the gritty thing in my life. The one thing where you shove your boots into the ground and dig deep and say no. Vinnie is not an easy horse. We found each other through scrapes and sweat, blood and tears, but also through feeling free and learning together, growing up and introducing maturity to each other. Working hard and digging deep and never giving up.

He has been one of the most steadfast things in my life. One of the only things I can count on. Perhaps the one closest to my heart.

In May of 2023, I graduated college. I have no money, so Vinnie needs to be leased. And he is, for a bit, but due to the aforementioned struggles, he has already gone through a few leasers.

His longest leaser decided to quit riding a week ago. We have thirty days to figure something out. This situation alone is one of my worst nightmares. I am not in control. I do not know the future. I do not have a backup plan. And a year and a half post grad, I am starting to see the stark reality that I will not be able to afford this horse for years.

So, how does one lose the foundation of their identity?

By growing up. By getting older. By real life getting in the way. By trying my hardest to love the most precious thing in my life enough to let it go.

Is it time to sell him?

Gut answer: no. He is mine, and I am his.

But am I selfish enough to waste his prime years until I get him back? And when I get him back, am I really going to show again? Am I wasting his life and his potential? Am I limiting myself? What other things could that money go to? How have I held myself back?

How do I let go of something that is half of me? How do I reconcile that I kind of did awhile ago?

I don’t know if I am capable of loving something enough to let it go, loving him enough to let him go. I am so scared. He has health issues and behavioral issues that I micromanage. But how selfish would I be to limit him as he is now? At fourteen, sweet Vinnie is in his prime of life. How dare I, who am I, to take these years away from him and a fictional someone who wants it so badly?

Grappling with Vinnie is one thing. A raw wound I know I will never heal from.

My name is Isabel, and I-

what am I? who am I? Well, I used to ride horses. From when I was six until I was twenty two.

The best memories of my life are at the barn. My longest lasting friendships are my barn friends. It has shaped me, molded me, formed me into who I am. I am a horseback rider. How do I let this go?

I always thought I would ride again. I always assumed I would show again. I never doubted I would see my sweet Vinnie again.

I am a writer and a reader. I love to travel, and I’m teaching myself how to run. I only have a few friends, and I like it that way. I prefer to stay in and read a book than go out. I’m scared of rejection and losing things I love. I’m terrified of the future because it’s unknown and I can’t control it. And as for the gaping, raw, fleshy wound and empty hole in my heart?

Did you know that I used to be a horseback rider? A lot of my life actually! And my horse was named Vinnie. He was the greatest thing that happened to me.