Finding My Voice, Finding Theirs: Why I Founded Speaking of Horses

Ada and her 3 year old horse named Red.

Horses have always been my true love. Like many children, I started in the equestrian world with weekly lessons, but for me, it quickly became more than a hobby. I waited all week for my precious hour on horseback and refused to shower afterward, treasuring the lingering scent of horse on my clothes. I could sit in the hayloft for hours watching horses munch contentedly, finding peace in their rhythmic chewing and gentle movements.

When I turned 10, I yearned for more involvement with horses. My parents couldn't afford additional riding lessons, but I realized riding wasn't the important part—it was being around these magnificent animals that felt essential to my being, as if horses were somehow written into my DNA. I discovered a local therapeutic riding center called Lift Me Up in Great Falls while driving by one day, and hatched a plan to volunteer.

The instructors were understandably hesitant to welcome a 10-year-old into their barn, but they decided to give me a chance. I started with menial tasks—cleaning stalls, organizing tack—but these chores came with the reward of watching therapeutic riding lessons. I was mesmerized by the transformation that occurred when children with disabilities mounted a horse. Their hands would flap with excitement, their eyes would light up, and their entire demeanor would shift. I watched as they circled the ring with the same pure joy I felt around horses, and a profound realization struck me: we weren't that different.

Just as children with autism sought the sensory engagement from the horse's movement, I craved sensory input when I pressed my nose into a horse's side to inhale that unmistakable, grounding scent. I also carried my own invisible challenge. Though it didn't affect how I moved or interacted with others, it profoundly impacted my academic performance. I am dyslexic—diagnosed before many teachers understood the condition or knew how to implement helpful strategies. Placed in special education classrooms, I lived with the persistent feeling that none of my teachers truly believed in me.

As years passed, I developed personal strategies to improve my reading and writing, eventually advancing from special education to honors classes. But I never forgot that awful feeling of being underestimated. I made a promise to myself that I would become the person who believed in every child, so that every child could find their voice.

Ada volunteering at Lift Me Up as a young teenager

Learning from the Horses and Their Riders

I continued volunteering at Lift Me Up throughout my school years until college. My responsibilities increased with age—from leading horses in lessons to side-walking with riders. I witnessed children overcoming tremendous challenges and experiencing breakthrough successes. Some experienced the sensation of "walking" for the first time through the horse's movement, while others mysteriously found words after years of silence. These experiences profoundly shaped my worldview and strengthened my desire to make a difference.

But first, I needed to navigate my own challenges. When I arrived at UVA, I was suddenly separated from everything familiar. Coursework replaced barn time, and social pressures felt suffocating. I felt isolated and adrift. Anxiety enveloped me (which I later learned I had a genetic predisposition for), and I developed a debilitating panic disorder. My breathing would quicken, vision blur, and mind race with intrusive thoughts. Experiencing 7-10 panic attacks daily, each lasting 20-30 minutes, left me exhausted simply from existing. My health diminished, ultimately leading me to drop out of college.

The only place I felt safe was back at the barn. Being on a horse provided my only anxiety-free moments because connecting with my equine partner required such complete focus that anxiety couldn't find room to exist. I spent the next year working at a barn away from college, developing coping strategies while surrounded by the healing presence of horses. My journey with anxiety gave me firsthand insight into the challenges many of my future students would face daily, fostering profound empathy for others struggling with their own obstacles.

Ada, her service dog, and a puppy

Finding My Path

I eventually returned to school with the help of my anxiety-alerting service dog, completing my undergraduate degree in two years and graduate school in another two. I dedicated my educational journey to helping others, focusing on communication because I deeply believed in the importance of connection. I knew that every child needed someone who believed in their voice.

After graduate school, I worked in schools and outpatient clinics, but the sterile environments and repetitive therapy approaches often failed to engage children. I also deeply missed horses. Remembering how horses had calmed and centered me through my own challenges, I had what seemed like a wild idea: What if I combined my knowledge of horses, expertise in speech therapy, and passion for helping children connect and communicate to create an environment where they could truly flourish?

This vision became Speaking of Horses.

Ada with one of her students

From Dream to Reality

We started small—one client and one saintly pony. Our first child was working on producing her /L/ sound because she desperately wanted to say that she loved her pony. The motivation and excitement she felt about attending sessions accelerated her progress, and she graduated from speech therapy in record time compared to my clinical experience. At that moment, I knew we were onto something special.

We quickly expanded to five horses, and it was remarkably easy to find children who needed communication support and were drawn to horses. Speaking of Horses began to focus particularly on children with autism, as the sensory engagement and neurological input from horseback riding created optimal conditions for communication and connection.

Today, we welcome 20 riders into our weekly program, with hopes to grow further. We've added a sensory trail to engage all the senses and implemented accessibility features including a ramp that has opened doors for children who previously couldn't mount independently. We aspire to hire occupational and physical therapists to create a comprehensive therapy team that addresses the whole child.

My dream extends beyond our current program. I envision replicating this model across the country, so that all children can find their voices in the most supportive and engaging environment possible.

What began as a little girl's love of horses has evolved into a lifelong mission: creating spaces where horses help children discover their voices—just as they helped me find mine. At Speaking of Horses, we believe that communication flourishes not when demanded, but when inspired through connection, movement, and the special magic that only happens between a child and a horse.