My Very Own Sunshine: Healing from Trauma with Horses

by Morrene Hauser

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Family is not only a blood relative. In fact, family can come in many different shapes and sizes. The way I learned about the power of love didn’t come from my biological family, it came from an unlikely source, a little pony I had as a child named Sunshine.

I grew up in an abusive household, and there were a lot of fears in my young life. I was afraid of the adults around me. I was afraid of the kids at school. I was afraid of the dark. I had more fears in my life than I could put a name to. My mom had many relationships when I was a child, some boyfriends, some husbands, almost all of them abusive. From as far back as I can remember, I was verbally, sexually and physically abused by my mom and the various toxic men she brought into our lives. Due to the ongoing abuse, I had learned from a young age that adults were not to be trusted. We moved often. It was a lonely and terrifying childhood.

When I was seven years old, my mom married her third husband, and I got my own pony that I named Sunshine. I was a crazy, obsessed horse lover, so this was a dream come true. My mom had a small barn full of horses by the time I was born, so the love of these magnificent animals was ingrained in me from an early age. From the way they smelled to their warm and velvety noses to their kind and soulful eyes, I couldn’t get enough of these amazing creatures. Each time I was in the presence of a horse, all of my inner turmoil faded into the background, and I was able to forget about the abuse I suffered at home.

As much as I loved Sunshine, I was also terrified of her. Terror was something I had grown up with, and it was something I understood well; but despite my fears, I rode Sunshine bareback every chance I could at the stables where she was boarded. Since I didn’t receive love and affection at home, horses were the only means of emotional support I had, and I was drawn to them like a moth to a flame.

Sunshine knew I was afraid of her, and that little pony took full advantage of my fear. From the moment I got on her, I would start saying silent prayers to her to be a good girl. Sunshine never heard my prayers. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Sunshine bucked me off, she ran away with me, and rarely did she go in the direction I wanted her to. Sometimes in the middle of a ride, Sunshine’s legs would buckle, and down we would go. As soon as I felt her go down, I would hop off because I knew she was going to roll. While Sunshine rolled, I looked at her round stomach and laughed at her little legs kicking vigorously in the air as she moved from side to side scratching her back. When she was done, I got back on, and we continued our ride. Sometimes our rides were long, sometimes they were short. I never knew where Sunshine would take us, but I was always grateful for the rides she took me on.

Every time I rode Sunshine, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I was head over heels in love with my little pony and failed to see her many flaws. I dreamt about Sunshine at night, and I daydreamed about her during the day. I talked about her incessantly. At that time in my young life, that little pony was my whole world, my Sunshine. I just couldn’t get enough of her.

Sunshine may have been a devil when I was on her back; but as soon as I got down, she couldn’t have been more loving. That little pony just couldn’t get enough affection, and I was more than happy to oblige. I loved to wrap my arms around Sunshine’s head, rest my cheek against hers and pet her as I inhaled her sweet, horsey scent. I was able to pour out my pent-up love and affection on her, something I desperately craved because of the constant abuse. When I was with Sunshine, the loneliness, confusion, and fears of my daily life disappeared. Every time I got on my little pony’s back, without realizing it, I was learning to face my fears. It never once occurred to me not to ride her.

When I was nine years old, my mom married her fourth husband, an abusive truck driver named Emil, and we moved to another state. Mom brought her horses, two Arabians named Jazon and Quazar, but Sunshine was sold. I was absolutely devastated when I had to leave my little pony behind. Without my beloved Sunshine, my anchor, I was lost in the sea of abuse that was my daily life.

After Mom married her fourth husband, any fears I had in my young life were soon turned into outright terror from the daily abuse I suffered at his hands and my mother’s. In addition to bringing me into their bed and abusing me, Mom and Emil sex trafficked me at truck stops. It was a terrifying and confusing time for me. But abuse was what I had grown up with, and as uncomfortable as it was, that was my normal. I badly needed the comfort and solace of my pony. And although the other horses were there, I missed my bright spot, my Sunshine.

One day, shortly after we moved, I was in Jazon’s stall brushing him, lost in thought. As I looked at him, suddenly I knew, without a doubt, that I could handle this young and spirited horse.

My fear of horses was gone. I am not sure what changed in me as far as overcoming my fear of horses, maybe it was the level of abuse that Emil brought into my life that eclipsed any fear I had ever experienced, but overcoming that particular fear was life changing.

When I asked Mom if I could ride Jazon, she thought about it for a second, no doubt remembering my escapades with Sunshine. Finally, Mom shrugged her shoulders and saddled Jazon up. From the moment Mom hoisted me onto his back, my world was transformed, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.  Finally, I was riding again!

Jazon was a challenge to ride, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Jazon spooked, bolted and bucked.  Nothing he did scared me, and I handled him with ease. I became a fearless daredevil on horseback.  Sunshine had taught me well.

Shortly after Emil entered our lives is when I started to dissociate during the sexual abuse. While I lay there desperately trying to escape the terror and confusion that my mind was too young to process, I often escaped into a rich and vibrant fantasy world filled with horses, brown ones, white ones, black ones, red ones, spotted ones, horses of every breed and size. Somehow these fantasies brought me comfort and helped ease the pain of what I was going through.

As the abuse worsened in my house and my mental health deteriorated, the horses gave me a purpose, a reason to get up and face each day and the many challenges in my life. Being around the horses was the only time in my day that I felt alive and present.

When I was fifteen years old, I finally fought back against the abuse. Mom had lost interest in sexually abusing me a few years prior, but Emil had not. The day that I fought back, Emil didn’t take it well. After beating me up and violently raping me, that was the last time he ever touched me in that manner. I am not sure why he stopped abusing me. Maybe he thought I enjoyed his touch. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Unfortunately, this particular incident had a devastating effect on me. I lost interest in the most important thing in my life, and that was my horse. Although I still loved him, I stopped riding and spending time with him. I was in a fog of depression, and it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other and get through each day. It would be many long years before my passion for horses would be rekindled.

When I left my abusive household and went to college, that was the first time in my life I didn’t have a horse. I rarely thought about them because as much as they reminded me of the happiest part of my childhood, they also reminded me of the most painful parts. It was bittersweet.

Somewhere along the way, without realizing it, I had buried the memories of the sexual abuse I suffered as a child into the deepest recesses of my mind. Unfortunately, those memories refused to stay in the past, and they often surfaced at random times with terrifying and disturbing images of me being sexually abused as a child. I never understood why these images would pop into my head; but each time they did, I immediately kicked them out, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge what my mind was so desperately trying to tell me. But they always left me badly shaken with a racing heart and terrified adrenaline running through my system. It took an enormous amount of effort to keep that fake smile on my face and pretend everything was okay in my world.

I always knew something wasn’t right with me. And that was a question I often asked myself as the years passed, what is wrong with me? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? From the daily flashbacks to the anxiety and depression to the chronic migraines and severe insomnia, something just didn’t feel right. But deep down I knew that that “something” had to do with my childhood, but that was as far as I could go. I wasn’t ready to face my past.

One day I could no longer deny that these flashbacks were actual memories of abuse I suffered as a child. It was at that time I suffered a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized. After my hospitalization, I was diagnosed with C-PTSD due to years of childhood trauma.

After my hospitalization and subsequent diagnosis of C-PTSD, I finally had an answer to that question that haunted me for years, “What is wrong with me?” My diagnosis had a twofold effect on me. On the one hand, it was like a punch to the gut that almost brought me to my knees when I realized all of the years of abuse that I had suffered as a child. How could these people, my mother specifically, that should have loved and protected me as a child have done such heinous things to me? I was absolutely overwhelmed with shock and grief. And yet, on the other hand, it was a relief to finally get an answer to that question that I had been asking myself for years. Now that I had my answer, I made it my mission to face my past and heal from all I had been through as a child. All I ever wanted was to feel good. It was at this most crucial time in my life I bought another horse, a gorgeous Arabian Paint named TwoFace. I hadn’t planned on buying a horse. He just sort of fell into my life, as if fated. Once again, a horse came in to save me when I was at one of the lowest points in my life.

When I started healing from my past, I often thought about Sunshine. And every time I did, I smiled.

When I look back at my life, I realize that Sunshine taught me many important life lessons such as facing my fears and responsibility. But most importantly, Sunshine taught me how to love. I had learned from a young age that being touched meant being hurt, and I trusted no one. Even though Sunshine was a pony, she taught me that being touched didn’t have to hurt and that it was safe to let my guard down. I firmly believe that without Sunshine, or any of the horses in my life, I would not have been able to show love and affection to my children since I didn’t receive it at home. I am forever grateful to that little pony.

I don’t know what became of Sunshine.  Only one picture of her survived throughout our many moves.  I cherish that picture and smile each time I look at it. She still brings me Sunshine every time I think of her.

When I look back at my life, I believe that horses were there to teach me about love and safety, something that I didn’t learn from my family. To me, the horses were my family. Honestly, I am not sure how I would have made it without them.

And in case you’re wondering, yes, I have a horse. I couldn’t imagine life without one!

​EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR: Gabriel Nathan | EDITOR: Laura Farrell | DESIGN: Leah Alexandra Goldstein | SITE ORIGINATOR: Bud Clayman