On Fri, April 6th, 2018, I gave a keynote speech at the Equestrian Canada annual conference. As is my wont I had, over the previous month, spent hours preparing for the talk. Because I’ve always excessively planned for anything I have to do in front of an audience – including competing at the highest level – my nerves are generally very manageable. This almost over-preparation, resulted in me, guided as I was by cue-cards and my meticulously composed Power-Point presentation, being the calm person that I’ve always been in such a situation.
I realised, when I was preparing the talk, that it would be the first time I’d presented to an equestrian audience in over 20 years. While riding on the Canadian Equestrian Team in 1997, I’d fallen and sustained a severe Traumatic Brain Injury. Since the accident, I’d stayed away from the equestrian world. Recently, I’ve come to understand why it’s been so long: I’ve been afraid to become in any way involved with the that world. Perhaps, now that I understand the root of my fear, it will become easier to re-acquaint myself with my old world.
While I’m sure that many can imagine that my fear is a physical fear, it is actually emotional. I know that the first, a physical fear, is not the reason I feel the way I do. I’m not afraid of horses: I don’t think I’m afraid of riding. However, my emotional fear is, to me, tangible. I’m afraid that I’ll have to become involved again if I touch a horse, smell one, come near to one in any way. I fear any emotional involvement that might leave me wanting to connect with my old life, a world that has become a beloved part of my past. I’ll always miss it, however now I don’t have time to miss it – much. Now, I live a life that fulfills me in many different ways.
Somewhat surprisingly to me, I really enjoyed re-connecting with my old life when I presented at the Equestrian Canada conference. The memories of that beloved past flew freely from my heart when I recollected that time during the talk. Since it’s been so long since I was hurt, I’m detached from the memories of my recovery. I can speak unemotionally of that time; I’m finally psychologically separated from how I was during that time of forced transition. I felt (re)connected when many people from my past life came forward and introduced themselves afterwards.
A second loss, Dystonia, announced itself nine years after the head injury, when I had finally reconciled to the losses the head injury had brought about. This loss was much harder to deal with: I was cognitively ‘cured’ – I’d started a PhD – so coping with the psychological consequences of the chronic illness was difficult to say the very least.
Any life-changing loss – illness, death, or divorce to name but a few – is bound to wreak havoc on anyone. I’ve experienced two such losses, making me an ideal candidate to talk with others who have experienced trauma. When I speak of my experiences, I detail how I worked through the many emotional layers with which I was forced to cope. Showing others how I dealt with these life-changing events will, I hope, help them draw comfort and hope from my travails. Ideally, after reading my story, or listening to me speak about I’ve been through and how I’ve coped, these individuals will be inspired to deal with what they’re going through.
My experiences transcend the tightly knit world of horse sport; I touch on my past, but my focus reaches much wider. I think my story will attract all those who have experienced major loss of any kind. I’m available – and hope to – share my story at other events.
I can be contacted at:
A photo of me speaking at the
Equestrian Canada conference April, 2010
Here’s the write-up about my talk from the Equestrian Canada annual conference website:
EC was honoured to host Canadian Eventing Olympian and author, Claire Smith, at the 2018 Convention. After suffering a traumatic brain injury at the 1997 Burghley Open European Three-Day Event Championships, she wrote about her healing experience and the identity reconstruction that followed in her new memoir, Falling into Now: Memories of Sport, Traumatic Brain Injury, and Education.
“I’ve distanced myself from the equestrian world emotionally,” said Smith during what was her first speaking engagement with an equestrian audience since the publishing of her book. “It’s a fear of reconnecting with my old life and putting myself in a situation where I’ll feel vulnerable. I’m afraid of touching, feeling, or smelling horses because I’m afraid I’ll be drawn back.”
Smith went on to explain how, despite her reservations, she has been able to reconcile and eventually transcend her all-consuming equestrian identity and construct a more positive, comprehensive sense of self.
“It took a long time for me to see illness as opportunity, and it took me a long and painful time to realize that there’s a lot more to me than being an equestrian,” said Smith. “Don’t let what you do define you. I’m not defined by what I do, whether it is an equestrian, a survivor of head injury, or a writer.”
For those who are interested in the full report about the entire conference, click here for the link.
