Equine Therapy: The Use of Horses for Healing

Dr. Freya Bajandouh, PhD

A brown horse is grazing in a grassy field.

Last week we were kindly invited by Cathy Livingston to explore the use of horses in a therapeutic setting, as we learnt all about her work as an Equine Assisted Psychotherapist. This prompted me to explore an area of therapy that I (admittedly) do not have a great deal of knowledge in. However, I am always keen to learn about everything therapy-related, so I jumped at the chance to expand my knowledge and share with you some of my findings.

The use of animals in a therapeutic setting is not a new concept, in fact it was first documented as early as the late 1700’s (Trivedi & Perl, 1995). Animals can provide a sense of comfort, safety and calmness in people, as well as being effective at diverting attention away from stressful or anxiety-provoking situations. Animals can help individuals stabilise emotions, develop a sense of confidence and trust, and improve communication and connection with others and the self.

Equine therapy has been shown to be effective at reducing psychological distress and enhancing psychological well-being (Klontz et al., 2007).

In one of the only clinical trials of Equine Therapy, positive results were found from indivituals who completed short courses (4 ½ days) of Equine Therapy. These include individuals reporting that they felt more orientation to the present moment, they felt less burdened by regret, guilt and resentment and had less focus on fears related to the future. In addition, individuals reported they felt more independent and self-supportive. More recent research involving participants with Autism Spectrum Disorder has found Equine Therapy to improve social functioning and reduce aggressive behaviour (Trzmiel et al. 2018).

Although limited, the research literature does appear to be positive. This makes me question;

Why are horses so effective in a therapeutic setting?

Similarly to dogs, horses are highly intuitive and have a unique historical relationship with humans. Horses are herd animals, which means they are relational and accustomed to social experiences (Lentini and Knox, 2009). Horses are also prey animals, therefore it is essential that they are attuned to their surroundings in order to survive. As a result, they can sense the internal states of people and they can react and respond in a direct and honest way to these states (Lentini and Knox, 2009). Have you ever seen a horse act in a negative way to an anxious rider? This is because they can feel the anxiety from the rider and therefore react to that anxiety and become anxious themselves. Furthermore, horses live in present moment. In a therapeutic setting this allows their reactions to the client to be based on the present state of the client and not based on judgments or on a client’s history. This also means that transference reactions can be addressed without some of the confounding interpersonal factors present in more traditional therapies.

Equine therapy is focused on connection; to the self, the horse and to others. The therapist works with the client and the horse to build a strong relationship with the aim to get the horse to connect with the client. The client is then able to use the confidence gathered through this process and project it to their relationships with humans. The sheer size of the horse provides opportunities for clients to explore issues related to boundaries, vulnerability, control and power – all of which are essential when connecting with a 500kg animal!
Projection and transference can be experienced with horses (Klontz, Bivens, Leinart & Klontz, 2007), as patterns from human relationships can be seen in the relationship with the horse. In our taster session, a member of the group became frustrated that the horse was not doing as she wanted it to. Later, the individual acknowledged that she experiences this frustration in similar ways in relationships with people.
The relationship can be an avenue for modelling behaviours. A client can observe how their anxious behaviour affects the horse. This can then help them to understand how their behaviour can influence people around them.
Horses can provide feedback, feedback that is both accurate and unbiased, mirroring the physical and emotional states of the client. This provides clients the opportunity to raise their awareness and to practice congruence between their feelings and behaviours. The horse can sense incongruity and will appear confused until internal consistency is reached within the client.

Although the research is limited, there does appear to be a place for Equine Therapy. It has been successfully integrated into treatment programmes for adults, teens and children who are being treated for anxiety disorders, trauma, substance abuse, depression, autism, and related conditions. I for one will have it in mind for any clients in the future who I believe could benefit from an integrated approach to therapy that includes Equine Therapy.

To find out more about Equine Therapy in Singapore check out Cathy’s website at: www.livingstoncounselling.com

References:

Klontz, bivens, Leinart, klontz (2007). The effectiveness of equine-assisted experiential therapy: results of an open clinical trial.

Lentini, J., and Knox, M. (2009). A Qualitative and Quantitative Review of Equine Facilitated Psychotherapy (EFP) with Children and Adolescents. The Open Complementary Medicine Journal, 1, 51-57.

Trivedi, L., and Perl, J. (1995). Animal facilitated Counseling in the Elementary School: A Literature Review and Practical Considerations. Elementary School Guidance & Counseling, 29 (3), 223-233.

Trzmiel, T., Purandare, B., Michalak, M., Zasadzka, E. and Pawlaczyk, M. (2018). Equine assisted activities and therapies (EAAT) in children with ASD: a systematic review and a meta-analysis. Complementary Therapies in Medicine, 42, 104-113.

About the Author: Dr. Freya strongly believes in the science of Positive Psychology and uses her wealth of knowledge in this area to help clients overcome issues they face, enabling them to feel more positive towards themselves and their lives. Freya has a PhD in Psychology, is a qualified Yoga Teacher, and has completed courses in Meditation and Buddhist Studies. Read Full Bio >

< Older Post

Newer Post >

Beyond the Nervous System Reset

By Jason Woolley • March 18, 2026

In recent years, the language of the “nervous system reset” has become increasingly common in wellbeing spaces. Guided relaxation sessions, breathwork classes, meditation workshops, and practices such as NSDR (Non‑Sleep Deep Rest) are often presented as opportunities to step out of stress and return the body to a calmer state. In many ways, this reflects something positive. For people living and working in high‑pressure environments, simply discovering that the nervous system can settle - even temporarily - can be an important experience. When the mind quiets and the body softens, many people realise something they may not have known before: calm is actually possible. Spaces that support rest, reflection, and nervous system regulation can therefore be valuable. They offer a pause in a world that rarely stops moving. But the popularity of the “reset” also reveals something deeper about the conditions many people are living under. For many professionals, life can begin to feel like a cycle of pressure followed by brief relief. A demanding week leads to a meditation class, a breathwork session, a yoga practice, or a relaxation workshop. For an hour or two the nervous system unwinds. Then the session ends, the lights come back on, and the same environment - the same demands, expectations, and internal pressures - are waiting outside. The relief is real. But it is also temporary. This cycle can leave people feeling as though calm exists somewhere outside their daily life, accessible only through occasional experiences designed to reset the system. Yet the nervous system was never designed to be repeatedly “reset”. It evolved to adapt. Long‑term resilience rarely develops through repeated escapes from stress. Instead, it develops when we gradually change how our body and mind relate to pressure itself. This is where deeper forms of psychological and embodied work become meaningful. In counselling, part of the work involves understanding the internal patterns that amplify stress - the beliefs, relational dynamics, and emotional histories that shape how experiences land in the nervous system. At the same time, embodied disciplines offer another pathway. Traditions such as Taiji and Qigong were developed over centuries as methods for regulating the interaction between mind, breath, and body. Their aim is not to produce a temporary state of relaxation. Instead, through consistent practice, they gradually change how the system responds to challenge. Over time, the body learns to release unnecessary tension more quickly. Breath settles naturally. Attention becomes steadier. External pressures may remain the same, but the way they land internally begins to shift. This process is sometimes misunderstood in modern wellness culture. Taiji, for example, is often seen as gentle exercise or slow movement in the park. But within traditional systems of practice, it is something more structured and transformative - a method of cultivating internal balance, resilience, and energy through sustained personal practice. It does not promise a quick nervous system reset. Instead, it invites a longer journey of learning how to live within the nervous system you already have. For many people, the most meaningful shift happens when calm is no longer something that needs to be found outside of daily life. It becomes something that can gradually be carried within it. And from there, resilience stops being something you temporarily borrow from a workshop or retreat. It becomes something you quietly build. ----- Moments of rest and nervous system regulation can be helpful starting points. But lasting change often emerges through deeper exploration and consistent practice. Counselling, reflective work, and embodied disciplines such as Taiji and breath-based practices can support a gradual shift in how the mind and body respond to pressure. If this perspective resonates with you, you are welcome to reach out to learn more about the ways these approaches can be explored together.

Intimacy Beyond Sex – A Way of Being

By Aki Tsukui • February 4, 2026

When we hear the word intimacy , we often think of sex: touch, desire, romance. Yet true intimacy lives far beyond these moments. It is felt in silence, in a shared glance, and in the quiet courage it takes to be fully present with yourself, with another, and with life itself. Real intimacy does not begin by reaching outward. It begins within. In the rhythm of your breath. In the pulse of life moving through your body. In the willingness to meet yourself honestly and gently. Meeting Yourself The deepest intimacy is the relationship you cultivate with your own heart. To meet yourself is to witness your thoughts, contradictions, joys, and aches without judgment or urgency. Can you stay present with fear rather than turning away? Can you allow sadness to settle in your chest and still honor it as meaningful? Can you sense the subtle movement of breath and energy within you? In moments of stillness and awareness, we often discover how much of ourselves we have learned to hide: emotions pushed aside, sensations ignored, patterns inherited and carried unconsciously. Yet every doorway to genuine connection already exists inside you. When you reclaim your inner world, you reconnect with the source from which all intimacy flows. Being Felt Emotional intimacy is not something we explain; it is something we allow. It lives in presence in the unguarded moment, the pause that stretches, the vulnerability that remains uncovered. To be emotionally intimate is to let the quiet pulse of your inner life meet another without the need to justify or repair it. Breath becomes a bridge, gently moving awareness between your inner world and the shared space. In this soft surrender, the heart remembers that it is safe to open, to soften, to simply be. Being Known Psychological intimacy asks for the courage to see and name the patterns that shape how we move through the world: our fears, defenses, and habitual ways of relating. “I withdraw when I feel unseen.” “I hesitate to ask for support because I fear being a burden.” These patterns rarely belong only to us. They often arise from family systems, ancestral histories, and cultural conditioning, unseen forces carried across generations. When we begin to recognize these influences, compassion naturally deepens. We stop judging ourselves and instead meet our patterns with curiosity and care, honoring the lineage that lives within us. Meeting Beyond Roles Spiritual intimacy emerges when roles and narratives fall away. It is found in the space between breaths, in shared silence, and in the quiet recognition of essence meeting essence. It may appear while sitting together in stillness, in a gaze that needs no explanation, or while walking side by side through ordinary moments that suddenly feel sacred. When attention softens and awareness deepens, intimacy arises naturally. Breath, presence, and a wider systemic awareness allow us to meet one another with greater freedom, depth, and reverence. Intimacy Beyond Another You do not need another person to access this depth of closeness. Intimacy can be cultivated entirely within. In moments of stillness, you may begin to honor every layer of your being. As your breath deepens, its rhythm may echo the larger cycles of life. Subtle currents of energy become more perceptible, as does the quiet presence of ancestral threads shaping your experience. When inner intimacy is nurtured, relationships transform. Connection is no longer about filling a void, but about resonance: two beings meeting from wholeness rather than need. The Sacredness of Vulnerability To be intimate is to be seen and being seen can feel risky. Old wounds, inherited fears, and unmet needs often surface, making closeness feel uncomfortable. Yet vulnerability is the doorway. Breath and embodied awareness gently anchor you in the present, reminding you that you are alive, supported, and connected. As presence meets presence, intimacy deepens naturally. Intimacy as a Way of Being Intimacy is not something to earn or achieve. It is a state of presence, openness, and deep respect for life. It lives in meeting yourself with compassion, keeping your heart soft even in the presence of fear, holding space for another without expectation, and recognizing the sacred thread that runs through all connection. As you move through the days ahead, you might gently notice where intimacy is already presentin your breath, in moments of quiet honesty with yourself, in the spaces between words. There is nothing to strive for and nothing to fix. Intimacy is already here, waiting to be met. Warmly, Aki Tsukui

The Limits of Chemistry

By Esther Oon-Bybjerg • February 4, 2026

Chemistry is often treated as a decisive force in romantic life. When it is present, people feel justified in leaning in. When it is absent, even after a pleasant and promising date, interest tends to stall. Chemistry appears to offer clarity, but what it actually provides is something narrower: an early signal, powerful in its immediacy, yet limited in what it can reliably tell us. Most people recognise this tension intuitively. They know chemistry matters, but they also sense that it does not explain everything that makes a relationship viable or sustaining. And yet, in practice, chemistry is frequently asked to carry more authority than it deserves, shaping decisions about who to pursue, who to dismiss, and how long to remain invested. What is chemistry? In relationship research, romantic chemistry is recognised as a multifaceted, emergent experience. It can include attraction, emotional connection, interactive engagement, and a sense of mutual responsiveness. Importantly, chemistry is not viewed as a fixed trait residing in one person, but as something that arises between two people through interaction. When researchers examine how people themselves describe chemistry, however, a more specific pattern emerges. A recent qualitative study published in Behavioral Sciences, found that while participants acknowledged chemistry could involve multiple elements, the most commonly cited and immediately recognised experience was an instantaneous spark - a felt sense of connection, intensity, or attraction early in an interaction, rather than a gradual assessment of compatibility or emotional safety (Devenport et al., 2025). Why the spark feels so convincing That immediate spark carries weight because it is physiological as much as psychological. Early romantic chemistry is associated with activation of the brain’s reward and motivation systems, including increased dopamine and norepinephrine, which are neurochemicals involved in focus, pursuit, and salience. The body feels energised, attention narrows, and the other person begins to stand out in a way that feels meaningful. This response is not irrational. From an evolutionary perspective, rapid bonding had adaptive value. From a learning perspective, our nervous systems are shaped by repeated relational experiences. Attachment research helps explain why this kind of activation can feel meaningful so quickly. Our nervous systems learn through experience what closeness feels like, and over time they become efficient at recognising familiar patterns. When past intimacy involved emotional intensity or heightened engagement, the body may respond swiftly to similar cues, even before conscious evaluation has a chance to catch up. (Mikulincer et al., 2020). 1Chemistry, then, is neither imagined nor accidental. But it is also not a verdict. It is a signal that arrives early and speaks loudly. When chemistry starts doing more than it should Problems arise when chemistry shifts from being an opening signal to becoming the deciding factor. When people over-index on chemistry, two familiar patterns tend to emerge. In one, the absence of chemistry limits pursuit. Dates can go well. Conversation can flow. The other person may be emotionally available, respectful, even aligned with what someone says they want. And yet, without chemistry, interest stalls. Many people describe this not as rejection, but as resignation: “I know they’re good for me, but I don’t feel anything.” The relationship does not end; it simply never begins. In other cases, the opposite happens. A relationship starts with strong chemistry. People invest quickly and overlook early warning signs. That initial pull shapes the decision to begin the relationship and continues to guide it even if doubts surface. Concerns are registered, but they carry less weight. Over time, it becomes clear how much chemistry has been steering judgment from the beginning. Because the nervous system is activated, the mind works to maintain coherence, often finding reasons to persist rather than pause. In both cases, chemistry is doing more work than it should either preventing people from staying curious enough for other forms of connection to develop or pulling people forward too quickly. What chemistry can and cannot tell you Research consistently shows that long-term relationship satisfaction is far more strongly predicted by responsiveness, repair after conflict, and emotional attunement than by early intensity alone (Overall & Lemay, 2021). Chemistry does not reliably predict these capacities. Chemistry can tell you that your system is activated, your attention is engaged, and something feels compelling or familiar. What it cannot tell you is how conflict will be handled, whether needs will be met consistently, or whether emotional safety will deepen or erode over time. From a nervous-system perspective, this distinction matters. Stephen Porges’ work on Polyvagal Theory describes how the autonomic nervous system continuously scans for cues of safety and threat, shaping whether we feel socially open, vigilant, or withdrawn. When systems are accustomed to high arousal, intensity can be misread as connection and calm can register as disinterest. In such cases, chemistry reflects nervous-system conditioning more than relational compatibility (Porges, 2022). 2The consequences of over-indexing on chemistry often appear later, in hindsight. When chemistry dominates judgment, it can obscure both warning signs and possibilities. Chemistry as one voice among others A more grounded way to relate to chemistry is to treat it as one voice in a larger conversation. It deserves attention, but it should not be allowed to dominate the discussion or determine the outcome on its own. Qualities such as emotional safety, mutual responsiveness, values alignment, and repair after conflict tend to speak more slowly. They require time and exposure to reveal themselves. When chemistry drowns them out, decisions are made with incomplete information. Wanting chemistry is not the problem. The issue arises when it is allowed to outweigh every other form of relational information. Chemistry can open the door, spark curiosity, and make connection feel alive, but sustaining love depends on quieter, more consistent signals - emotional presence, repair, respect, and reliability over time. The goal is not to mute the spark, but to place it in context. Chemistry speaks loudly, but wisdom often emerges only after the initial intensity had time to settle. References Devenport, L., et al. (2025). Exploring lay understandings of romantic chemistry. Behavioral Sciences, MDPI. https://www.mdpi.com/3592440 Mikulincer, M., Shaver, P. R., & Ein-Dor, T. (2020). Attachment orientations and emotion regulation in close relationships. Current Opinion in Psychology, 25, 86–91. Overall, N. C., & Lemay, E. P. (2021). Attachment, responsiveness, and well-being in romantic relationships. Current Opinion in Psychology, 43, 110–115. Porges, S. W. (2022). Polyvagal theory: A science of safety. Frontiers in Integrative Neuroscience, 16, 871227. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnint.2022.871227 3