About Amy

Widen Your Lens. Embody Your Spirit.

I’ve always believed that horses have a way of helping us see what we sometimes can’t see on our own. They notice the things we overlook—the shift in our energy, the tension in our bodies, the way we approach something unfamiliar, the moments when we hold back or try too hard. They don’t judge us for any of it. They simply respond.

And in that response, there is an invitation:

Slow down. Pay attention. Get curious. See what else is possible.

That invitation has shaped both my personal journey and the work I now share with others.

My Journey

My relationship with horses has grown far beyond a love of animals. Over the years, horses have become teachers, partners, mirrors, and guides.

Through my own experiences with them, I began to understand that some of the most meaningful learning doesn't happen by being told what to do. It happens when we have the space to notice, experience, question, and discover something for ourselves.

That realization eventually led me to Equine Guided Learning.

I have had the privilege of working with children, teens, adults, families, veterans, and people navigating significant life experiences. I've witnessed horses help people slow down, become more aware of themselves and others, build confidence, communicate differently, and reconnect with parts of themselves they may have forgotten.

These experiences continue to teach me something important: The horse doesn't need us to have all the answers. Neither do I. My role isn't to tell someone who they are or what their experience should mean. I'm there to create a safe, curious space, to help translate what may be happening between horse and human, and to invite people to discover their own answers.

My continuing education and experiences with horses have continued to shape my understanding of how powerful experiential learning can be.

My Work Today

Today, I bring together my experience with horses, my training in Equine Guided Learning, and my lifelong curiosity about people, animals, connection, and personal growth.

I don't believe becoming a guide means you've arrived somewhere; it means you're willing to keep walking the path. When we stand beside a horse, we are not simply teaching the horse—or learning about the horse. We are learning about ourselves. And sometimes, that is where the real journey begins.