The Horse, the Matriarch, and the Leader I’m Becoming
There’s a line in Yellowstone that stopped me in my tracks the other night.
We were curled up on the sofa watching this series about a family-owned cattle ranch in Montana when one of the characters shared a piece of Native American wisdom:
“To be a great leader comes from the top of a horse. The horse reveals who you are.”
It landed in my chest like a key turning in a lock — quiet, certain, strangely familiar. Because this thread didn’t begin with a TV show. It began in South Africa.
Where the thread began: a nervous woman on a horse in the wild
Back in October, following my first Zimbabwe Rewilding Adventure Retreat, I went on a horseback safari. I’ve ridden maybe two or three times in my life. No lessons. No long-held confidence. Just curiosity, nerves, and a feeling I needed to see what would happen next. I didn’t admit it fully at the time, but I was scared And yet, the moment I climbed onto that horse, I realised I wasn’t being asked to know anything. I was being asked to be present. A horse doesn’t respond to your words or your charm. It responds to your breath. Your nervous system. Your truth. You cannot perform leadership on a horse. You have to embody it. A horse knows if you are grounded or scattered. If you trust yourself or you’re pretending. If you’re carrying fear or if you’re offering connection. Something shifted in me that day. Not certainty – but courage. Not skill — but presence.
And from that moment, the horses began to follow me. The signs that kept appearing
A dream my husband keeps having. A book someone recommended. A white horse in a children’s programme Savannah was watching. And then that line in Yellowstone – the exact words I needed to hear.
Then came the most unexpected sign of all: An invitation to visit a family-run horse and cattle ranch in Zimbabwe, with the possibility of hosting rewilding retreats there.
Horses.
Land.
Women.
Zimbabwe.
Leadership.
Rewilding.
All my threads in one place.
And then something else arrived – one more layer of meaning I couldn’t ignore.
2026: The Year of the Horse
I saw it one morning scrolling on my phone: 2026 will be the Year of the Horse. It stopped me instantly.
The Year of the Horse is associated with:
freedom
movement
instinct
sovereignty
courage
truth
the return to your natural rhythm
A Horse year is a year of momentum – of stepping into life with clarity, strength, and self-trust. A year where you finally stop holding yourself back. And it arrives the year I turn 45. A midlife threshold. A decade since my dad died. A season of reflection, recalibration, and remembering who I am beneath the roles I carry. It feels symbolic. Archetypal. Guided. Like the timing is not random at all.
Eremitism: the quiet call before what comes next
Alongside all the horses, something quieter has been rising in me. A longing for solitude. For silence. For stepping back from constant emotional labour and the noise of daily life. Eremitism – the instinct to withdraw in order to return to oneself – has been tugging at me.
Not because I want to escape anyone. But because I need space to hear my own voice again. Approaching 45, it feels necessary. A stripping back. A cocooning. A pause for breath. A recalibration. Even mythic women retreat before they rise. It’s not avoidance; it’s preparation. Sometimes a woman must go quiet before she goes forward.
After leading my first international retreat: meeting myself as a leader
This all feels significant in the wake of leading my first international retreat in Zimbabwe – a retreat that was fully, completely, and honestly mine. It was beautiful. It was transformative. It was emotional. And it brought me face-to-face with my own leadership. I realised that my style is not loud or dominant or performative. I don’t lead by standing at the front waving a flag. I lead matriarchally. Quietly. Steadily. Listening more than speaking, guiding more than directing. Holding a container, not commanding it. It is leadership shaped by instinct, empathy, and presence – the kind that often goes unseen because it is subtle, but is deeply felt by those within it.
Because it’s new, I’ve been self-critical at times. Wondering if I did enough. Held enough. Led enough. Was ‘good’ enough. But then I return to that truth:
The horse reveals who you are – and that is enough.
Leadership is not about perfection. It is about congruence. And I am learning to trust mine.
The myth: the original Rhiannon
There is another layer to all of this – one I’ve known all my life but am only now beginning to understand. My name: Rhiannon. In Welsh mythology, Rhiannon appears riding a white horse – untamed, intuitive, sovereign. She moves with quiet confidence. She chooses her own path and her own pace. She is pursued but never caught unless she allows it.
Her story is one of:
feminine power
sovereignty
endurance
intuition
misjudgement
resilience
deep connection with horses
She is wrongly accused of things she didn’t do. She is spoken about, not listened to. She is made to carry burdens that were never hers. And yet she remains poised, grounded, unwavering in her truth. Her power is her presence. And for the first time in my life, I feel I understand the significance of carrying her name. Maybe this myth hasn’t been something separate from me. Maybe it has been a mirror waiting to be seen.
The song: the modern Rhiannon and the woman I am becoming
I was also named after the Fleetwood Mac song Rhiannon. Stevie Nicks wrote it before she even knew the mythology. She said it felt like a song “about a woman she was meant to meet, or become.” And the lyrics feel like an invocation I am only now ready to receive:
“She rules her life like a bird in flight.”
“She is like a cat in the dark.”
“Once in a million years a lady like her rises.”
“Would you stay if she promised you heaven?”
It feels like a remembering. A returning. A rewilding of identity I haven’t stepped into until now. Maybe the song wasn’t just a song. Maybe it was a map. A calling.
The Message That Returned – The Lightbulb, The Homecoming
Today, something came back to me with the same clarity I felt years ago in Namibia after my dad died. Back then, I was aching and lost.
And the message that came was simply:
“In order to be a good mother, you just have to be yourself.”
It changed everything, and is the place Maverick Mums gre from. And today it returned, but in a different form:
“In order to be a good leader – a good facilitator, a true space holder – you just have to be yourself.”
Because of course it’s the same message. Space holding and mothering come from the same place:
Acts of love.
Acts of presence.
Acts of listening.
Acts of non-judgement.
I lead in the same way I mother: authentically, quietly but powerfully, kindly, collaboratively, anchored in intuition. The journey wasn’t towards a new truth – it was a return to a truth I already knew.
As We Approach Winter Solstice: An Invitation to You
We are nearing the winter solstice – the long night that marks the turning, the moment when the light begins to return. A natural time for reflection, for listening.
So I offer this to you:
What messages are returning to you that you’ve known before?
What truths have you been circling?
What instincts are whispering?
What signs are asking for your attention?
What parts of you need space or light?
As the light returns, may you find the courage to trust yourself, follow your signs,and return to who you are becoming.
With love and wild spirit.