More Than Words: How the Herd Helps Neurodivergent Teens Find Their Calm
As a psychotherapist, I often see parents who come to me feeling a sense of quiet exhaustion. They describe their preteens and teens—many of whom are navigating the world with autism or ADHD—as feeling "pushed to their limit." They see their children snapping at siblings, withdrawing into digital worlds, or simply appearing "stuck" in a state of high-alert.
In the office, we call this a defensive nervous system state. In the real world, it just feels like a breakdown in connection.
For neurodivergent youth, the world is often too loud, too fast, and filled with "hidden" social rules that feel impossible to decode. Traditional talk therapy can sometimes add to this pressure—asking a child who is already sensory-overloaded to sit still and find words for complex feelings can feel like asking them to climb a mountain without boots.
This is where the horses come in.
The Mirror of the Nervous System
At Heart Horse Counselling, we don't just "ride horses." We partner with them as tools for self-regulation.
Horses are prey animals, which means their survival depends on their ability to read energy. They are masters of non-verbal communication. If a teen enters the arena with a "heavy" stomach or "bursting" energy—even if they are smiling on the outside—the horse feels it.
Through my work with our five horses and two ponies, I help teens notice this feedback in real-time. We call this biofeedback in motion. When a horse moves away, it isn't a rejection; it’s an invitation to check in. It’s the horse saying, "I feel your bubbles are a bit too big right now. Can we find a calm space together?"
Learning the Language of the Herd
One of the most powerful parts of our program is Herd Observation.
Socializing in middle school is a minefield of nuance. But in the herd, communication is honest and immediate. By watching how the lead mare sets a boundary or how a pony asks for space, neurodivergent teens begin to decode social dynamics without the fear of being judged or "getting it wrong."
They learn that:
Boundaries aren’t mean: They are a way to stay safe and respected.
Observation is a superpower: You don't have to guess what someone is thinking when you learn to read the "body language" of the room.
Co-regulation is a two-way street: As the teen learns to breathe and ground themselves to settle a nervous pony, they are inadvertently learning how to settle their own nervous system.
A Safe Space to Just "Be"
In our sessions, the goal isn't "fixing" the neurodivergence. It’s about building a sense of competence and agency.
Whether it's the rhythmic, sensory-soothing task of grooming or the assertiveness required to lead a 1,000-pound animal through an obstacle course, every interaction is a "win" for their self-esteem. They aren't just a "client" or a "student" here; they are a partner to a sentient being who accepts them exactly as they are.
If your child is struggling to find their voice, or if you feel the communication in your home has become reactive rather than connected, I invite you to step out of the office and into the paddock.
Sometimes, the best way to move forward is to stop talking and start listening—with our hearts, our breath, and our horses.
Ready to see if the herd is a fit for your family?
