Why Horses “Get” Neurodivergence - And why that matters more than we realise - The Heroine's Journey - Neurodivergent Support Cheshire

Chonti
May 22
2 min read

There’s something about being with horses that feels like coming home — especially for those of us who are neurodivergent.

It’s not just the calm or the quiet. It’s the absence of expectation. The way a horse meets you exactly where you are — no masks, no small talk, no pressure to explain. Just presence.

For many of us, especially women who’ve spent years trying to contort ourselves to fit into a world that feels too fast, too loud, or too much — being with horses can be the first time we feel truly understood without words.

Horses don’t need you to perform

In a world that often rewards masking, pushing through, or pretending we’re fine — horses invite us to be honest. If we’re anxious, they feel it. If we’re calm, they soften. There’s no need to hide how we’re really doing. In fact, the more congruent we are, the safer they feel.

This makes horses incredible companions for those of us who:

· Feel emotionally or sensory overloaded

· Struggle with burnout from constant people-pleasing or social effort

· Find traditional therapy settings overwhelming or inaccessible

They speak a different kind of language

Horses communicate through energy, body language, and intention. Neurodivergent people often already do this — we sense shifts, notice patterns, pick up on unspoken dynamics.

Where humans might misunderstand us, horses simply tune in.

They don’t get confused by a lack of eye contact.They’re not waiting for the “right” words.They don’t judge our silences.

And in that space, something extraordinary can happen: we unmask. Not because we’re told to, but because it finally feels safe enough.

They regulate — and co-regulate — beautifully

Being around a regulated nervous system can soothe our own. Horses, when allowed to live as they’re meant to — in herds, outdoors, connected — are brilliant regulators. They can anchor us when we’re spinning out, and mirror us gently when we’re shut down.

For those of us who have lived in survival mode for years, this can feel like an unfamiliar relief: I don’t have to do it all myself.

It’s not therapy. It’s relationship.

This isn’t about fixing or healing in a clinical sense. It’s about relating differently — to ourselves, to our energy, and to another living being who is completely present.

Horses don’t offer advice.They don’t need you to be positive, grateful, or productive.They just meet you.

And when you’ve spent your life being misunderstood, that kind of presence is healing in ways that words can’t always reach.