Riding Has Become My Lifeline

When I started riding again a year later, I remember falling off because the girth was loose and the saddle slipped. I was seven and no one told me to check the girth. It was really such a surprise to find myself on the ground at the same eye level as my horse, but it all turned out fine, and I got back on. My mother wouldn’t give me lessons after that, so I went to a horseback riding camp, which meant I was around horses all day just playing around. It was heaven.

When I got older, I fell in love with someone who was an avid rider, so he taught me a lot. I competed in everything when I was 17 and 18; I was very serious, but only for a short time. I loved doing hunter/jumpers. I’m not a show jumper. I don’t have that mentality, as I’m more languid.

After I became an actress and moved to California, I had to wait to save up enough money for rent, board, etc., because as an actress, you have to save your pennies.

Years later, I got a rescue horse, but he is now out to pasture. When I bought my current horse, Mr. Nibbles, I said to myself: “I’m going to treat myself to the fancy horse I could never have before.”

I was not yet diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS), but I suffered from fatigue and was never feeling well. I was tired, depressed, and needed to find one joy in my life. That had always been riding, so I wanted to learn, show and be serious about it in a fun way. It was time for me as I realized life is short.

I made a real commitment when I got Mr. Nibbles, and went to a great trainer, Kelly Jennings at Cellar Door Farm in Los Angeles. I love her horsemanship and her respect for her riders and horses. She’s given me a whole new world and is an excellent trainer.

Mr. Nibbles came from New Jersey and was out to pasture before I got him because his owner had died of cancer, so he never got real training, but he was an incredible horse. My trainer got on him and jumped him around, he just went along his business and I thought, “This is a perfect horse for me to grow old with.” The name he came with was Sky Top, but he’s Mr. Nibbles to me or “His Royal Highness.” He looks great and is really fancy. I have big hopes for him.

One of the first indicators that I had MS is that when I was showing and my horse would yank on me a little, I’d get a concussion and whiplash. Even when I wasn’t riding him — just grazing him or hand walking — any simple thing would do weird things to my neck. I didn’t know my body was so weak that I couldn’t even hold my head up.

The MS diagnosis changed me. I had to take three years off from riding when I was diagnosed. I had so much spasticity (muscle stiffness and spasms) and dystonia (involuntary contractions) that there was no way I could even get on my horse. My trainer brought him to my house one day and I grazed him on my lawn. She let me get on him bareback, I just cried and smelled him and thought, “What a lucky girl I am. This is more than I could have ever asked for.” It was such a dream come true to have my horse on my front lawn in the middle of L.A.

I couldn’t go to the barn during that time as I couldn’t handle car rides, walk very well, or tolerate the sun (it will still take away my speech if I’m outside). We don’t have an indoor arena in California, and I can’t ride in the sunshine, so I go to the barn early in the morning as I get very weak and uncoordinated in the sun.

It’s been several years since I started riding again after my diagnosis. I can’t believe so much time has passed! Every time I get on, it’s like I’m a beginner again ... I can’t find my legs. I don’t know where my body is in space. But then I also think part of that is about growing older as it happens to a lot of people, not just those with MS. We get stiff and we train our muscles in different ways through life. It’s not always as automatic as just getting on a horse and jumping around. We lose body awareness with aging and menopause, but luckily enough, my horse has not lost his body awareness.

Mr. Nibbles takes care of me; he’s always watching out for me when I’m on his back. If I get off balance, he’ll start to slow down. He doesn’t get insecure. He just listens if I’m falling or something, but I haven’t fallen too much. I don’t suspect I’ll ever find a horse like him again. He is my dream horse, and I cannot believe that I’ve had my chance to have him.

Time matters to me so much when I’m on or with Mr. Nibbles. I get to really pay attention to things I don’t usually acknowledge in my own life. I’ve noticed my gait has improved immensely since trying to strengthen my left leg through riding and lengthening my leg by doing work without stirrups, which is what I need because I brace my legs when I use my stirrups. I’m a little bit tipsy now ... it is humbling, but it’s also fascinating if I don’t take it personally. My body twists in ways that it never did, and I don’t really feel where I am in space. When I do feel Mr. Nibbles, that gives me energy like a strength that I don’t have any longer.

I really hope I can get better so that I can show again. It’s just difficult building up the stamina when it feels like I’m resetting every time I ride. If I go to a show, my trainer will probably just have me do a couple of amateur hunter classes and a little derby, whereas when I was young — for the couple of summers that I really showed and I was getting points — I must have done 25 classes in a weekend. It was just nonstop catch riding on different horses for different people.

I definitely hope to show this summer because it teaches me so much; I need to push myself but also have a reason to do it. I would love to do some bigger circuit shows with Mr. Nibbles. My big goal is to have the energy and ability to ride in the sun. I would also love to take him on an inn-to-inn ride. I did one years ago through Equitours with my sister, but I want to do it with my horse because he would love that.

I took part in a Boyd Martin clinic in January 2025, and I came alive there and had no problems. Boyd would give me higher fences and didn’t care about my health history, he just cared about what was going on. I think because I love performing and because it was Boyd, I got a little starstruck and had adrenaline, which I don’t normally have. He’s so hardworking and generous with the horses and the riders; it was such a pleasure to ride for him. I really came alive and I thought, “Oh my God, I have to show again.” That was a turning point because I did absolutely fine in his clinic, he even said I was a very good rider, which I never thought I’d hear again in my life.

When I introduced myself, I said: “I have MS. I’m doing well, but if I’m a bit uncoordinated for certain things, I might just look a bit weird for a minute.” And he said, “I don’t even see that.” It felt really good to be seen in the present for what you’re bringing.

Mr. Nibbles is usually a bit slow to get going. He’s really balanced, but he’s a horse I have to get after in the beginning of the lesson. At Boyd’s clinic, he felt my excitement, so he was ready to go and I loved it. It was so great because that was less work for me.

When I wasn’t riding — either when I was working or when I was sick — I missed jumping and the rhythm of a good gallop. I missed being that high up and having that point of view every time I get on a horse. It’s amazing how much it changes my horizon line and everything else. I realized I don’t look up when I walk, and I am still having to teach myself when I am riding because something in my body wants to look down. I forget to look where I’m going, which my trainer reminds me all the time as I space out because my vision has changed. I have a narrow hallway of vision, which is one of those things I always took for granted.

Horseback riding is an exact mirror of what I do in my day. Sometimes I’ll get so tired during the first 10 minutes of riding that I feel like I can’t continue. I just have to get over those 10 minutes until my body softens and stops some of the spasticity. I need to remember that during challenges throughout the rest of my day, and have little touchstones like, “You can get past this. This too shall pass.”

My horse is perfect, so I always think at least something is going right. I love everything about him. It’s changed my life to have that energy from him and the care of my trainer at the barn. The way she’ll sort out our bodies throughout the lesson and the way she’ll come up with our plans for gymnastics or even having me hold onto a neck strap to get my hands to sit still because they’re fidgety between fences. I get a little stutter step of anxiety or excitement and my hands will fidget. It’s an annoying thing to my horse and myself, so now I am using a neck strap. I realize how my center of balance is just different now, but that can be changed with practice. There are little solutions we can find that make me realize there are solutions for the bigger issues in my life.

I think riding has taught me to get along with people. If you’re at a barn when you’re younger with a bunch of other juniors, you have to learn to respect each other’s space and have admiration for each other and your horses, or else you’re not going to be happy. You learn to look at things more positively. I’ve never been really negative around a horse, but I am a negative girl by nature.

I wish I were showing and doing Grand Prix-classes, and seeking out movies, and buying rights to books, and all those things. But I remember, you have what you have ... I’m still so grateful that I have plenty of things to be happy about, even if my fences are not over three feet high anymore.

Photos: Selma Blair