In 2014 I graduated college, got engaged, and read Amy Poehler’s Yes Please. Obviously the life event I spend the most time contemplating was the book. Notably, a phrase she uses in her chapter about parenting: “Good for you, not for me.” Amy used the phrase in the context of making tough decisions to work or not work or have kids or adopt kids or go live on a mountain and call your 15 goats your babies. Good for you, she says to these other women’s decisions, not for me. I thankfully learned this expression at a time in my life I really needed it, but still struggle to keep it in practice, especially in the horse world.
I have to remind myself of this a lot at the barn or when scrolling social media. I’ve met people who like to hand walk their horse for a few minutes before mounting, or lunge the shit out of their horse before every ride. Sometimes I see people clean their tack obsessively or insist on entering a horse show after riding their horse twice in the last month. These are all things I don’t habitually do and can find myself puzzling after. In recent years, I’ve made a deliberate effort to approach these situations with the Pohler attitude. Lunge your horse for 30 minutes and then ride for 5? Good for you. Take your bridle apart every week? Not for me. You very likely have very good reasons for doing these things and frankly I don’t need to have time to hear all those reasons so I do my best to refrain from questioning.
I am, by nature, very good at minding my own business and like to think I’m good at resisting the urge to share unsolicited advice. So why have I spent so much time working on this mantra? It’s easy to talk (or gossip, if I’m being honest) about what other people are doing with their horses, and Instagram and Twitter make it even easier. If you’re a wild optimist (or just very naive) and don’t believe me, post a screenshot of someone else's terrible #rootd on Twitter and watch the ugliness unfold. Or a horse in draw reins or a shank bit or a fully synthetic saddle. These all things I generally don’t use because they aren’t for me. For others? Good for you.
Unless a photo or video or statement online actively demonstrates an animal (horse or human or otherwise) in danger, it’s critical for my own sanity to assume interference is unnecessary and to let them be. If I didn’t, I might have a lot more followers, but I’d also have a lot more drama and emotional labor on my hands.
Moreso than keeping me from fighting strangers on the internet, my Poehler mantra also keeps me grounded in my own reality. With a slight modification, I can tell myself “Good for you, not for me right now.” Comparison is the thief of joy, as another, much older saying than Pohler’s goes, and boy is it true. When you don’t have your own horse, and see hundreds of people online with one or three or ten ponies of their own, it’s really really really easy to be jealous, judgmental, and petty. It’s important for me to take a deep breath and remember, “good for you, not for me right now.” Some days are easier than others.
“Right now” is a tricky mentality for a millennial, I think (and probably other generations, but I can’t speak for you). A nostalgia-soaked culture keeps the past close to our hearts and minds, while the constant headlines about “why aren’t you married or a homeowner or debt free yet???” make it seem like if we aren’t living in our best present, success will never come. It’s a goal of mine to remember that just because I don’t own property or know if I want to have children yet, doesn’t mean I never will. For those who do, good for you, not for me (right now). I can live the first 30 years of my life without owning a horse and then spend the next 30 with a pony of my own--right? It’s these little words, repeated often, that make it possible for me to get through my feeds without losing my mind. If you have a mantra that keeps you sane, let me know, because it’s a ridiculous world out there and the more mantras, the saner we stay.