non binary horse girl

2023

“I wanted my horse to be black with a white star on its head. I wanted it to be called Midnight. When we played horses in the playground that’s who I pretended to be. A fake horse girl being a pretend girl horse.” 

For a long time I didn’t allow myself to like horses. I looked away when they swished their beautiful tails. I would complain at the traces of manure on the road all the while feeling giddy inside that there might be a horse close by. I would occasionally allow myself a fleeting glance at them in fields sometimes but only if I was on a train. 

I had been conditioned to think that horses weren’t for me. I had cut myself off cold turkey one day when I realised they were cringy and uncool. It didn’t feel like much of a loss because I was too poor, too queer, and too lonely to partake in horse related activities anyway. I had severed the connection between me and femininity successfully when I decided to give up my equine enthusiasms. 

I was simultaneously happy and sad to be excluded from being a horse girl. It was safe but it wasn’t joyful. We set boundaries around what we are allowed to like based on our individual experiences with gender, class, and identity in order to protect the illusion of safety we have been trained to replicate as children. As an artist who predominantly focuses on themes of childhood within their work I believe it’s my responsibility to question these roles. I want to produce work depicting queer joy in inaccessible spaces such as the predominantly white, cis, female, privileged experience that is being a horse girl.