Two Horses. One Year. One Heck of an Experience.

Earlier this year, I had the opportunity to compete at the National Cutting Horse Association's International Circuit Finals in Fort Worth, Texas. If you've ever hauled into Will Rogers Memorial Center with a horse you've spent months—or years—preparing, you know it's hard to describe the feeling. There's excitement, nerves, pride, and just a little bit of wondering if all the work you've put in is going to come together when it matters most. I had only just started in Cutting, my show experience split between Curly and Sparky. It turned out that Curly required some down time right before the Finals, so it came down to me and Sparky.

If you had asked me before I showed what I hoped to accomplish, my answer would have been pretty simple: have a good run, learn as much as I could, and enjoy the experience.

I'd only been showing for about a year, and I knew Sparky and I were walking into an arena filled with riders who had years—sometimes decades—of experience. Just qualifying for the event felt like an accomplishment.  Walking into Will Rogers Memorial Center, surrounded by some of the best competitors in the sport, was probably one of the most humbling moments of my life.

Like most competitors, I went in there hoping for a great ride, and honestly, I had a pretty good one. We didn't make the finals, but I came home with something that, in the long run, may have been even more valuable.

I came home with perspective—and a much better understanding of what it takes to compete at that level.

One of the things I love most about horses is that they never let you stop learning. Every ride teaches you something. When you get the chance to compete alongside talented riders from across the country, you learn even more. But maybe the biggest lesson is realizing that the horse doesn't know—or care—what's written on the entry form. They simply show up and do the best they can with the rider they've been given, and old reliable Sparky did exactly that.

These finals reminded me that success isn't always measured by where you finish on the leaderboard. It's measured by the hours spent in the saddle. The repeated mistakes that eventually click, and suddenly you get it right. The conversations with friends and family in the barn aisle. The quiet moments standing beside your horse after a run, replaying every second and already thinking about what you'll do differently next time.

I tried to pay attention to the little things—the way experienced competitors prepared before entering the pen, how they handled pressure, how they stayed focused, and how they carried themselves whether they had a great run or one they'd rather forget. Those are lessons you can't learn from watching videos or reading books. You have to experience them.

Being on the competitor's side of the camera reminds me exactly what my clients are experiencing. I understand the anticipation before entering the pen, the disappointment when things don't go according to plan, and the joy when everything clicks. Those experiences make me a better photographer because I'm not just documenting a horse and rider team—I'm preserving memories that mean something.

Would I have liked to have made the finals? Of course. But I wouldn't trade the experience.

Every show teaches us something if we're willing to listen. This one reminded me that growth rarely happens when everything goes perfectly. It happens when we're challenged, when we're humbled, and when we leave determined to come back a little better than we were before.

That's one of the reasons I love photographing horses and the people who love them.

Whether it's your first show or a major event like the International Circuit Finals, every run becomes part of your story. Some days you bring home a buckle. Some days you bring home a lesson. Both are worth remembering.

Looking back, I'm proud of how far I've come and excited for the future. I'm even more excited about everything I learned while I was there. The experience reminded me that there's always another level to reach, another skill to develop, and another opportunity to improve. There's always another Cutting Show.

Because this journey isn't about one horse show. It's about continuing to grow—both in the saddle and behind the camera.

Thank you Video West Productions for all the hard work! From one photographer to another, you do a great job!

Thank you to my family Bill and Billie Aylesworth; who cheer me on and allow me the opportunity to do this wild ride.

Thank you to my trainer, Scott McKinsey and his family, for all the coaching and pushing me to do better.

Thank you to my husband and partner, Brett Shayler; who always pushes me to do better and meets me at the out gate with a smile and "good job", no matter how we end up on the leaderboards.

Thank you to Crystal for looking after both Brett and I and our boys and making sure we could focus on what we needed to. You're the very best!

And a special thank you to Sparky for all his hard work trying to hold those crazy cows and keep me in the middle of him. I will always save you a peppermint.