The Pivot: From Show World Precision to Polo Heart

If you had told me a few years ago that I’d be driving a Ram 3500 dually, hauling a ten-horse trailer across state lines, I probably would have laughed—or maybe reached for another ice pack. My life has always revolved around horses, but the path from the quiet, disciplined arenas of the "Show World" to the high-octane, heart-pounding energy of the polo field has been anything but a straight line. It’s been a journey of physical hurdles, deep-seated loneliness, and a late-blooming discovery of what it actually means to find your tribe.

Born in 1988, horses weren't just a hobby for me; they were an identity. I started riding at the age of five, and by thirteen, I was already working in the industry. I lived for the smell of the barn and the rhythmic sound of hooves. But while my spirit was eager, my body had other plans. Early on, I was diagnosed with arthritis in all my joints, particularly Chondromalacia in my knees. For an equestrian, that’s not exactly the news you want to hear, but I pushed through. I worked as a groom, then a barn manager, and even spent time assisting an in-house vet. I was a sponge for knowledge.

But horses weren’t my only world. I worked in multiple industries alongside the equestrian life, including a 21-year stint as a bartender (from dishwasher to manager to security), waitressing and hosting from Pizza Hut to a Michelin-star spot called Le’Le’, and even roles as a corporate negotiator, sales trainer, and CFO.

I also studied as an auto mechanic, flight technician, and collision worker. It was during my time as a collision worker that I became really sick, which kicked off the two-year journey that eventually led to my fibromyalgia diagnosis.

And then there was a pause. In 2011, after the birth of my daughter and the pull of family life, I took a six-year break from horses. I came back to them in 2017, older, hungrier, and determined to rebuild.

My foundation was built on precision. I explored everything from Parelli and Natural Horsemanship to clicker training. I climbed the traditional ladder: Dressage, then Jumper, then Cross Country. And a lot of those “precision years” weren’t just about my own rides; I was working with client horses on everything from loading training to behavioral issues. I bought green horses, put the work in, polished them, and sold them. On paper, I was doing exactly what I loved. But by 2020, something felt off.

The Solitude of the Arena

In the "Show World," even when you’re surrounded by people, you are often very much alone. You train alone. You compete for your own score. You’re chasing a specific kind of perfection that exists in a vacuum. By 2020, that isolation started to weigh on me. I loved the horses—I always have—but I felt lonely. I wanted more. I wanted a social connection, a sense of belonging, and frankly, I just wanted to have more fun with my animals.

Then came 2022. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, a condition my doctors suspect I’d been battling for at least two years prior. Suddenly, the fatigue and the pain made sense, but it also made my hectic life feel impossible. I was juggling a career, two teenagers, biopsychology studies at a private psychotherapy school in Copenhagen, and the grueling work of training a green horse: my three-year-old Arabian Thoroughbred, Mokari. I was burning out.

My husband, Jesper, saw it before I did. He knew I needed something that was just for me: a way to reclaim "me time" in a way that felt invigorating rather than like another chore on the list. We happened across a local polo club in Denmark that was looking for new team members.

Jesper bought me a 10-day polo boot camp. By day three, I knew my life had changed. We bought our first polo pony, Pichon 5, before the week was even over.

Facing the Hurdles

Transitioning to polo wasn’t an overnight success story. I started in the arena in Copenhagen in November 2023, and to be honest, it was tough. It was winter, freezing cold (-12°C), and I didn’t feel particularly welcomed or encouraged. It felt like an uphill battle against a culture that wasn't ready for a newcomer with my background. Even after buying my second pony, Spirit, in early 2024, I was on the verge of quitting.

Despite the efforts of my first polo instructor, Christian Mendez, and his support of my talents, he was sadly alone; his bosses didn’t allow him to fully embrace my potential.

My body was also screaming at me. That same year, I received a diagnosis of deteriorating arthritis in my lower back, and it happened suddenly. I woke up one morning and simply could not get out of bed from the excruciating pain in my back. It chained me to my bed, completely handicapped for a week. Then came a week of chiro and doctor appointments, and another week of recovery before I could get back on a horse.

I was at a crossroads. I could pack it in and go back to the “quiet life,” which, for me, was actually a hectic life lived for everyone else (family first, self last), or I could change my environment. On the advice of a friend, I traveled to Spain to visit Iridike Polo Club.

That trip saved my love for the sport. Mariano Iturrioz and his family didn’t just teach me about polo; they made me feel at home. They gave me my passion back. In the sun-drenched fields of Spain, I realized that polo isn't just a game; it's a community. I bought my third pony, Bambina, from Iridike, and finally felt like I was moving in the right direction.

A Global Shift

The summer of 2024 was a whirlwind. I left the Copenhagen club, moved my horses to Spain, and relocated to Philadelphia to consolidate my family life with Jesper. I joined the Brandywine Polo Club and spent most of my time riding and schooling different horses. My riding got more refined, but my polo-specific skills didn’t improve much yet. I was still learning what the game actually demands.

However, the universe wasn't done testing me. In the winter of 2025, I was diagnosed with Hyperthyroidism. One of the side effects is clinical anxiety, which was a devastating blow to my riding. I started having trouble riding even my favorite ponies. I struggled with that internal noise for months, feeling like I was losing the one thing that grounded me.

But polo has a way of pulling you forward. In April 2025, I went down to Wellington to observe the Gay Polo League (GPL), and I went “undercover” as a groom for a friend who was supplying horses for the players. From the sidelines (and the barn aisles), I saw what I had been missing, and I was invited to play. That invitation was a lifeline. It reminded me why I was doing this: for the inclusivity, the sport, and the sheer joy of the game.

That’s also where I met Michel Dorignac: a polo legend who only works with dedicated talent. In Wellington, he was curious about me. We talked about my dreams, and he was very direct. In June 2025, he sent me on a one-week mission in Mashomack to see if I had what it takes, because he didn’t want to waste time. My mission was simple (and huge): regain the confidence to ride my favorite horse, Bambina, again. Michel only accepted me as a student after seeing me ride there, and he took me on because of my persistence, dedication, and passion.

Building El Lirio Polo

By July 2025, I knew I needed to take my training to the next level. I left Brandywine and headed to Mashomack, NY, to train with Michel Dorignac. Michel became more than just a coach; he became my team manager and a close friend. Under his guidance, my string grew. Daysi, Tiki, and Dixie had already been bought before I arrived in Mashomack.

September 2025 was a milestone month. After 15 years together, Jesper and I finally got married in August 2025: so everything in that season felt like life was moving at full speed. I played the GPL Kentucky tournament, a dream come true. But the real "boss move" happened right after. I had exactly one week to learn how to drive a brand-new Ram 3500 dually and a 10-horse trailer. I had never even driven a garden trailer or a truck before: and suddenly I was hauling to Alabama for the fall season at Point Clear Polo Club with my string at the time (3 horses) plus 2 horses from Michel: and even a motorcycle for a groom. (My first three horses: including my Arabian Thoroughbred, Mokari: are still in Spain.)

That’s where I bought Flor, and it was a turning point. Flor is an exact replica of Bambina, and riding her with full confidence proved I had reclaimed the power clinical anxiety had taken from me. There is something incredibly empowering about being the one behind the wheel, responsible for the safety and journey of your team. It was a far cry from the delicate precision of the dressage arena, and I loved every second of it.

The Vision for the Future

Today, the journey has brought us to Wellington, Florida. We are boarded at Beldi North, and with Michel’s help, I’ve brought over Mamadera and Mirinda from Argentina, bringing my string to nine incredible horses.

On February 14, 2026, I officially opened El Lirio Polo for sponsorships. The dreams and ideas actually started back in Mashomack, when Michel asked me what I wanted in life. That’s where the “pony pit stop” ideas and the bigger vision began to form—what the future could look like if it’s built the right way. To be clear, everything is still in negotiation, planning, and seeking sponsors. The “first brick” hasn’t been laid yet, but I know I’m on the right path. What started as a desperate search for "me time" has evolved into a full-scale enterprise. We aren’t just playing a sport; we are building a brand that celebrates the grit, the community, and the heart required to overcome whatever obstacles life throws your way.

The transition from the precision of the show world to the heart of polo wasn't just about changing disciplines. It was about finding a way to ride that didn't feel lonely anymore. It was about turning my life from a hectic cycle of working for others into a life of passion, working for myself.

At El Lirio Polo, we’re just getting started. On the field, I’m a student and a player. Off the field, I’m CEO, barn manager, coordinator of the team with Michel, social media manager, blog writer, and brand & sponsorship manager—and I’m working toward becoming a breeder, an academy manager, and a pony pit stop owner. Whether it’s on the field in Wellington or hauling across the country, we’re doing it with heart, with our team, and with a deep respect for the horses that make it all possible.

The pivot wasn't easy, and the road is still long and hard, but it’s fueled by passion and by my determination to live life to the fullest despite my health conditions (arthritis, fibromyalgia, hyperthyroidism, and clinical anxiety). If you’re feeling stuck in your own "arena," maybe it’s time to look for your own version of the polo field. You might just find that the noise, the speed, and the community are exactly what you’ve been missing.