Nevada teaches me every single day to look beyond movement. To feel what is happening beneath the surface and to trust the process. In this interview, I take you along on our journey together and share the lessons we have learned along the way.
How has the relationship between you and Nevada evolved from your first meeting to the level of partnership you have today?
From the very beginning, Nevada felt special to me. I first met him at dusk, while he was still living in a pasture with a group of young stallions. The moment I touched him, something felt right. At the same time, I could see that he didn't yet have much expression in his movement. Even so, I chose to trust my intuition and begin this adventure with him.
Our journey has never been about achieving quick results. It has always been about building trust, understanding, and creating a shared language. Growing through challenges together has created a deep connection between us. We understand each other better with every step. Now that Bongo has retired from fitness work, Nevada has taken over the role of bringing out the best in me—as a trainer, therapist, and friend. Together, we continue to embrace new challenges.
What challenge has shaped your journey together the most?
The greatest challenge has been learning not to train Nevada according to my own expectations, but to truly listen to what he needs. Sometimes that meant taking one step back so that we could move two steps forward together later on. That process has taught us both so much and has also inspired me to become even more creative.
When did you first feel that Nevada was truly coming into his own?
I realised Nevada was beginning to find his strength when he stopped performing exercises simply because I asked him to. Instead, he started moving because he had gained more confidence in his own body and abilities.
These weren't dramatic or spectacular moments. Nevada is not the type of horse who naturally shines in an extroverted way, like Vanilla Ice does. Because of that, I have to take his personality into account. Sometimes I really need to motivate him like a personal trainer—encouraging him, supporting him, and rewarding every effort he makes.
Whenever Nevada doesn't feel comfortable in his movement, he quickly shuts down. Over time, I've learned to recognise those moments much sooner, allowing me to guide him through them more effectively. Sometimes he really expresses his stallion character by rearing, building tension, or resisting. He simply doesn't respond well to pressure.
That's why I consciously choose not to use aids that restrict or pressure him, such as a training whip or spurs while riding. Those tools make him frustrated rather than helping him improve. Instead, it has become a creative search for ways to help him engage without creating tension—to build strength while maintaining relaxation. That journey continues to improve, and I've learned to trust my intuition more and more. Together we search for relaxation, engagement, and self-carriage. For me, that is an endless journey.
Fortunately, we're supported by my greatest dressage inspiration. He understands both Nevada and me exceptionally well and allows us to be exactly who we are. We don't have to fit into anyone else's picture. Whether I ride with a bareback pad or not, it is fully accepted.
I recognise that same philosophy within our Academy. I believe every trainer needs someone they truly trust—someone who can genuinely feel both you and your horse, who can think and sense ahead when needed, challenge you, and help you grow through obstacles towards a new level.
The level at which Nevada and I now get to play and grow isn't something that comes naturally to him. Nevada is an American crossbreed, naturally built to move with his hindquarters higher and his withers slightly lower. Our goal is the opposite: true self-carriage, carrying power, and elevation through the forehand. We want him to learn to lift his torso and carry himself from within.
That isn't only a physical challenge—it is an energetic one as well. I work extensively with visualisation, using my own energy to encourage him to grow. From there, it becomes a matter of identifying every small energy leak, unlocking restrictions, and helping him retain that energy instead of letting it dissipate, so it can be used to create greater elevation and strength.
Using bodywork, Gua Sha, electrodes, and every tool available to me, I support Nevada throughout this process. I continually investigate where limitations remain, where he compensates, and how I can make him even more comfortable. Not only so he can move better, but so he also feels seen, understood, and supported throughout the process.
For me, bodywork and Gua Sha are far more than techniques. They are an essential part of our connection, both during our warm-up and our cool-down.
Perhaps you've experienced moments like this too. Suddenly, everything comes together.
That happened recently during a lesson. Nevada suddenly started to truly trot—not just with his legs, but with his entire being. Every muscle, every ounce of energy, everything aligned. It felt as though he exploded upward and forward from the ground with incredible power and expression. At that moment, I was completely carried by his energy. It's almost impossible to describe.
And then... it's gone again.
That's when the search begins once more. How do I find that trot again? How do I align everything—physically, mentally, and energetically? Because Nevada isn't the kind of horse who will naturally keep offering it. They're only brief moments—small glimpses of what's possible. That's exactly why I immediately stop, give him a hug, and let him know how incredibly proud I am of him.
I'm really looking forward to the Summer Clinic, where I'd love to dive deeper into the "locks" within my horses and the creative search for the right "keys." Ultimately, that's something that applies to everyone. For me, training isn't about forcing movement; it's about discovering what each horse needs to unlock its full potential.
If you could leave everyone with one lesson from your journey together, what would it be?
Change doesn't begin with control—it begins with connection.
When you learn to look at what your horse is feeling instead of focusing only on what your horse is doing, you create space for genuine growth.
Many of the biggest breakthroughs Nevada and I experienced didn't happen while practising exercises, but during moments of bodywork and Gua Sha. By learning to recognise tension and understand the body more deeply, greater relaxation, balance, and freedom of movement often emerge naturally.
A horse that feels comfortable in its own body is ultimately able to step into its true strength.
