Okay, so I don’t hate them anymore but I don’t like them. When I was five-ish my dad set me atop a full grown horse and the motherfucker took off running down a hill, and my terrified five year old self dropped the reigns and hated horses ever since. So much that unicorns were not my favorite anymore, and instead i decided giant fire breathing lizards (dragons) were cool. Do not put me on top of a horse
So naturally my grandma, who KNEW i did not like horses and had zero desire to be on or near them got me horse riding lessons for my 7th birthday. I’m pretty sure the horse knew i hated it b/c it shat all over the barn floor while i was ‘riding’ (sitting stiffly atop it with my heart pounding) it and part of the ‘lessons’ means you had to clean up after your horse, which okay, makes sense if you’re teaching a kid the responsibilities.
But me? My pure hatred/terror about the animals reached a head. I refused to clean it like a brat. Because as far as I was concerned the hatred was mutual and I was not going to be forced into contact with an animal i hated and then made to clean up its shit.
The trainer lady said i couldn’t come back if i didn’t clean it up.
I said ‘oh good, I hate horses’ and she was really confused like ‘why did you ask for lessons?’ and I was like ‘i didn’t. they scare me’
So this baffled trainer told my mom, who actually didn’t know i hated horses (several people in my family own horses and do events with them) and basically that was the last contact i had with a horse.