Author: Anne Axell

Jeg så for nylig et opslag, hvor man havde lavet en undersøgelse om dette: bliver ungheste, der går i løsdrift, sværere at håndtere?

Det satte nogle tanker i gang hos mig.

For det første – hvordan laver man overhovedet sådan en undersøgelse?
Hvad er det egentlig, man måler?

Hvis jeg fik det spørgsmål, ville jeg starte med at stille nogle modspørgsmål:

• Hvilken race taler vi om?
• Hvor mange heste går sammen?
• Hvordan bliver de fodret?
• Har de daglig kontakt med mennesker?

For det er netop de ting, der gør forskellen – ikke kun om hesten går i boks eller i løsdrift.

Hvad sammenligner man egentlig med?

For at kunne sige, at noget er “sværere”, skal vi have noget at sammenligne med.

Er det heste, der står på stald 24/7?
Eller heste, der kommer ud 2 timer om dagen? 8 timer?

Der er en kæmpe forskel.

At sige “løsdrift vs. opstaldning” er alt for forenklet. Virkeligheden er langt mere nuanceret.

Misforståelsen omkring løsdrift

Jeg oplever ofte, at løsdrift bliver misforstået.

At have heste i løsdrift betyder ikke, at man slipper dem løs i flere år uden kontakt og først fanger dem ind, når de skal sælges.

Det er ikke løsdrift – det er manglende håndtering.

En velfungerende løsdrift indebærer:

• Daglig kontakt med mennesker
• Heste, der bliver klappet og nusset
• Naturlig bevægelse og socialt liv i flokken
• Tryghed – både i omgivelserne og i relationen til mennesker

I sådan et setup har jeg svært ved at se, hvorfor heste skulle blive sværere at håndtere.

Fordelene vi ofte glemmer

Det, der ofte bliver glemt, er fordelene:

• Stærkere og sundere kroppe
• Bedre led
• Social opdragelse fra andre heste
• Mere naturlig adfærd

Heste lærer utrolig meget af hinanden – noget vi mennesker aldrig helt kan erstatte.

Hvad er det så, der gør forskellen?

Min erfaring er meget klar:

Det handler ikke om løsdrift eller boks.
Det handler om individet – og mennesket bag hesten.

En unghest bliver ikke svær at håndtere, fordi den går ude.
Den bliver svær, hvis den mangler kontakt, vejledning og tryghed.

Jeg har arbejdet med heste fra begge systemer – og set både nemme og udfordrende individer i dem begge.

Glem ikke det grundlæggende

At en hest går i løsdrift betyder ikke, at man ikke kan:

• Træne med grime
• Håndtere og lede den dagligt
• Opbygge en tryg relation

Faktisk kan flokken være en hjælp. Hesten ser, at de andre ikke er bange, og det skaber tryghed i mødet med mennesker.

En vigtig påmindelse

Et føl kan blive bange i en boks.
Et føl kan blive bange ude på marken.

Det afgørende er ikke stedet – men hvordan vi introducerer verden for dem.

Med den rette kontakt, nysgerrighed og positive oplevelser får vi trygge og håndterbare heste – uanset hvordan de bliver holdt.

I recently came across a discussion where someone had done a study on this topic: do young horses raised in herd living (loose housing) become harder to handle?

It really made me think.

First of all – how do you even measure something like that?
What is it that you are actually evaluating?

If someone asked me this question, my first response would be to ask a few questions back:

• What breed are we talking about?
• How many horses are in the herd?
• How are they being fed?
• Do they have daily contact with humans?

Because these factors matter far more than simply whether the horse is kept in a stable or in a herd.

What Are We Really Comparing?

To say something is “more difficult,” we need something to compare it to.

Are we comparing with horses kept in stalls 24/7?
Or horses turned out for 2 hours a day? 8 hours?

There’s a huge difference.

Simply saying “herd living vs stabling” is far too simplistic. Reality is much more nuanced than that.

The Misunderstanding About Herd Living

I often feel that herd living is misunderstood.

Keeping horses in a herd does not mean turning them loose for several years without human interaction, only to catch them when it’s time to sell them.

That’s not herd living – that’s lack of handling.

A well-managed herd system includes:

• Daily human interaction
• Horses being touched, scratched, and acknowledged
• Natural movement and social life
• A sense of safety – both in their environment and with humans

In that kind of setup, I really don’t see why horses would become harder to handle.

The Benefits We Often Forget

What often gets overlooked are the advantages:

• Stronger, healthier bodies
• Better joint development
• Social education from other horses
• More natural behavior

Horses learn an incredible amount from each other – something we humans can never fully replace.

So What Really Makes the Difference?

In my experience, it’s very clear:

It’s not about herd living or stabling.
It’s about the individual – and the human behind the horse.

A young horse doesn’t become difficult because it lives outside.
It becomes difficult if it lacks proper contact, guidance, and a sense of safety.

I’ve worked with horses from both systems – and seen both easy and challenging individuals in each.

Don’t Forget the Basics

Just because a horse lives in a herd doesn’t mean you can’t:

• Train with a halter
• Handle and lead them daily
• Build a strong, trusting relationship

In fact, the herd can often help. Horses see that others are calm and not afraid, which helps them feel safe in interactions with humans as well.

An Important Reminder

A foal can become frightened in a stall.
A foal can become frightened out in the field.

What matters is not the location – but how we introduce the world to them.

With the right connection, curiosity, and positive experiences, we raise confident, easy-to-handle horses – regardless of how they are kept.

Når det hele falder på plads

Torsdag var en rigtig god dag. To af mine klienter mærkede virkelig effekten af min coaching. De begyndte at forstå sig selv, blev klarere på, hvad de vil – og vigtigst af alt, de begyndte at længes efter at komme op i sadlen igen.

Når jeg når dertil sammen med mine klienter, bliver jeg utrolig glad. Det er dér, jeg virkelig mærker, hvorfor jeg laver det her arbejde. Når jeg møder et smil i stedet for tårer i øjnene, ved jeg, at noget er faldet på plads.

De fleste kommer til mig, når deres verden er ved at falde sammen.
Det kan være af mange grunde: de forstår ikke deres hest, de er blevet bange for at ride, eller de føler, at de ikke er gode nok.

Livet er mærkeligt nogle gange. Det er næsten, som om vi skal presses helt ned, før vi begynder at rejse os igen. Nogle siger, at vi er her for at lære – men hvor meget skal man egentlig igennem, før man kan få det godt og tro på sig selv igen?

Mange går rundt med en tung skyldfølelse og ved ikke, hvordan de finder tilbage til glæden. Jeg plejer at sige, at den, der har problemet, ikke altid kan hjælpe sig selv – for hvis de kunne, ville problemet jo ikke være der.

Men hvor svært er det egentlig at bede om hjælp?
Meget svært.

Vi har ingen problemer med at hjælpe andre – det gør vi gerne. Men når vi selv står i en svær situation, tænker vi: “Det er ikke noget, jeg klarer det selv.”

Efter at have coachet så mange mennesker som jeg har, og set hvad små skridt, de rigtige værktøjer og nogle gode råd kan gøre… så ved jeg, at man faktisk kan ændre sit liv fuldstændigt.

Derfor er det svært at forstå, hvorfor det kan være så svært at bede om hjælp.

Måske tænker mange:
“Det er nok bare sådan, det er.”
“Det hjælper ikke på mig.”
“Jeg er, som jeg er – det kan ikke ændres.”

Men intet kunne være mere forkert.

Det er dig, der styrer dit liv. Og du kan ændre langt mere, end du tror. Spørg bare mine klienter – dem, der nu ser frem til et helt nyt forhold til deres heste.

Jeg har også selv ændret mit liv. Fra sadelmager til hestehandler til coach. Jeg har altid haft lyst til at gøre noget, der glæder andre. At se gnisten i en klients øjne, når det hele pludselig giver mening – det er uvurderligt.

Og det bliver aldrig kedeligt.

At få lov til at følge en person fra tårer til et smil, der lyser hele ansigtet op… det er derfor, jeg gør det her.

Tak til alle mine klienter, som har tillid til mig.
Jeg elsker virkelig mit arbejde.

When the penny drops

Thursday was a really good day. Two of my clients truly felt the effect of my coaching. They began to understand themselves, felt clearer about what they wanted – and most importantly, they started to long to get back in the saddle.

When I reach that point together with my clients, it makes me incredibly happy. That’s when I really feel why I do this work. When I’m met with a smile instead of tears in someone’s eyes, I know something has fallen into place.

Most people come to me when their world is falling apart.
It can be for many reasons: they don’t understand their horse, they’ve become afraid to ride, or they feel like they’re not good enough.

Life is strange sometimes. It’s almost as if we have to be pushed really far down before we can start rising again. Some say we are here to learn – but how much do we actually need to go through before we can feel good and believe in ourselves again?

Many people carry a heavy sense of guilt and don’t know how to find their way back to joy. I often say that the person who has the problem can’t always help themselves – because if they could, the problem wouldn’t be there in the first place.

But how hard is it to ask for help?
Very hard.

We have no problem helping others – we do it gladly. But when we find ourselves struggling, we tend to think: “It’s nothing, I’ll handle it myself.”

After coaching as many people as I have, and seeing what small steps, the right tools, and a few good pieces of advice can do… I know that it’s actually possible to completely change someone’s life.

That’s why it’s so hard to understand why asking for help feels so difficult.

Maybe many people think:
“It’s probably just the way it is.”
“That won’t work for me.”
“I am who I am – I can’t change.”

But nothing could be further from the truth.

You are the one in control of your life. And you can change far more than you think. Just ask my clients – the ones who are now looking forward to a completely different relationship with their horses.

I have changed my life too. From saddlemaker to horse trader to coach. I have always wanted to do something that brings joy to others. Seeing that spark in a client’s eyes when things finally click – it’s priceless.

And it never gets old.

To watch someone go from tears to a smile that lights up their whole face… that’s why I do this.

Thank you to all my clients who trust me.
I truly love my work.

Min deprimerende måned

Vinteren er for mig én lang ventetid. Og i Sverige føles den ekstra lang. Man vænner sig selvfølgelig til det, når man bor der, og man gør sit bedste for at holde humøret oppe.

December er okay – der er jul og nytår at se frem til. Januar byder som regel på lidt sne, som lyser det hele op, og man holder sig i gang. Men så kommer marts…

Lige når alle andre begynder at mærke håbet om forår, er det dér min “down-periode” starter.

De år jeg har boet i Ungarn, har jeg faktisk sprunget den periode over. Foråret kommer meget tidligere der, og det gør en stor forskel. Men i år har vinteren været usædvanlig lang og kold, og forleden tog jeg mig selv i at falde tilbage i de mørke tanker. Træthed, manglende energi… følelsen af, at det hele er lidt for meget.

Og som så ofte før bliver mad min trøst – hvilket min krop ikke ligefrem takker mig for. Den er meget “økonomisk” og gemmer på alt, den kan… til dårligere tider 😉

Kan du genkende det?

Man beslutter sig: I dag tager jeg i stalden. Nu skal der ske noget!
Hesten har ikke været i gang længe på grund af vejret, men nu er gårdspladsen i det mindste ikke en skøjtebane længere.

Men lige som du kommer derud… begynder det at regne.
Og hesten? Ja, den har selvfølgelig lige taget et dejligt mudderbad.

Noget af entusiasmen forsvinder allerede dér.

Og når du så løfter en hov – har hesten tabt en sko.

Der ryger motivationen helt ned på nul.

I stedet muger du ud, ordner foderet og går ind igen til det varme køkken.

Om aftenen ligger du og tænker på alt det, du havde planlagt… som ikke blev gjort.
Igen.

“Det er jo alligevel ikke forår foreløbig,” tænker du.

Men pludselig – en dag – er det der.
Og du føler dig ikke helt klar.

Tænk hvis du i stedet havde gjort lidt ad gangen.
Små skridt, her og der.

Så både du og din hest var klar til den første, skønne tur i skoven… når fuglene begynder at synge igen.

Tænk hvis nogen kunne give dig dit gode humør og din energi tilbage, så du kunne få det gjort?

Jeg ved jo alt det her.
Så det er nok tid til, at jeg tager en session med mig selv igen.

Og hvis du kan genkende dig selv i det her – så ræk ud.
Jeg har værktøjerne 💛

My Depressive Month

Winter, to me, is one long wait. And in Sweden, it feels especially long. Of course, you get used to it when you live there, and you do your best to keep your spirits up.

December is okay – you have Christmas and New Year to look forward to. January usually brings some snow, which brightens things up a bit, and you keep going. But then March arrives…

Just when everyone else starts to feel hopeful about spring, that’s when my “down period” begins.

The years I’ve lived in Hungary, I’ve mostly skipped this phase. Spring comes much earlier there, and it makes a big difference. But this year, winter has been unusually long and cold, and the other day I caught myself slipping into those dark thoughts again. Feeling tired, unmotivated… like everything is just a bit too much.

And, as so often, food becomes my comfort – which my body doesn’t really appreciate. It’s very “efficient” and stores everything it can… just in case of harder times 😉

Does this sound familiar?

You decide: Today I’m going to the stable. Today something is going to happen!
Your horse hasn’t been in work for a while because of the weather, but at least the yard isn’t an ice rink anymore.

But the moment you arrive… it starts raining.
And your horse? Of course, it has just enjoyed a full mud bath.

Some of your enthusiasm disappears right there.

And when you pick up a hoof – your horse has lost a shoe.

At that point, your motivation drops to zero.

Instead, you muck out, sort the feed, and head back into the warmth of the kitchen.

Later that night, you lie there thinking about everything you had planned… that didn’t get done.
Again.

“Well, it’s not like spring is coming anytime soon,” you tell yourself.

But suddenly – one day – it’s there.
And you’re not quite ready.

Imagine if you had just done a little at a time.
Small steps, here and there.

So that both you and your horse were ready for that first, wonderful ride in the forest… when the birds start singing again.

What if someone could give you back that energy and good mood you need to make it happen?

I know all of this.
So it’s probably time for me to have a session with myself again.

And if this feels familiar to you – reach out.
I have the tools 💛

Axell’s Mercedes

It’s been 20 years – actually more than that, since she was planned the year before. A beautiful mare, Makia, whom I had bought from Poland, was bred to my stallion Mackay.

Her birth became dramatic – as foalings often can be. You can watch a mare for hours, and then step inside for five minutes to grab a cup of coffee… and when you come back out, the foal is already born. It almost happened like that.

We had been keeping an eye on Makia the whole time while she was outside. We were just about to bring the horses into their boxes for the night and only needed to fix a few things first. When we came back out, Makia was already in active labor – right in the middle of the herd. We had imagined a calm and peaceful foaling inside the stable, but Makia had other plans.

It wasn’t easy to keep the other horses away. They were curious and wanted to come close to see what was happening. But out she came – Mercedes – and the foaling itself went well. Now we just had to get them safely into a box before something could happen. Jens had to carry Mercedes inside. She was incredibly big, and learning to stand on her legs doesn’t happen in an instant. Makia was nervous with all the commotion, but in the end, we got them settled.

Mercedes eventually got up and nursed well. Still, I felt that something wasn’t quite right. I called our faithful veterinarian, Bengt Anders Cato, and he came immediately. Together with another vet, he determined that she had developed stomach ulcers, likely caused by stress, and she needed treatment right away.

She had to receive medication every three hours. Hanna Einebrant, who was an intern with us at the time, volunteered to help, and Johan Axell, who was collaborating with us, also stepped in. We took turns – and it worked. Mercedes recovered. And because she was handled and cared for so much from the very beginning, she became a very special horse.

At three years old, she was loaned to an equestrian high school where the students learned to handle and start a young horse under saddle. It was a win-win situation. Mercedes was started under saddle, and the students loved her for her gentle nature and willingness to learn.

She became the mother of several foals – always big, beautiful foals – and she was a good, caring mother.

At the same time, she was always sensitive in her stomach and not the easiest to keep in good condition. A few years ago, she lost several teeth, which made it even harder for her to eat hay properly.

This winter she once again developed digestive problems and lost weight. Still, I felt I had things under control. Her manure improved, becoming firm and normal again, and she seemed brighter. It felt like we were moving in the right direction.

Then, about a week ago, she suddenly started leaving the pasture at night. We added more electric fencing and reinforced everything, but she kept finding places to get out. She didn’t go far – just a little way from the fence, calling to the others. On the fourth night, we had so much electricity running through the fence that she stayed inside.

I went up early to give her breakfast. Nothing seemed unusual. Then Jens came in and said the two geldings were alone again – he couldn’t see Mercedes. When I went out, she was lying down in the shelter.

I thought she might simply be tired after the restless nights and let her rest for a while. But when I came back later, she neighed loudly. That’s when I understood that something was wrong.

Her eyes were bright and alert. I gave her food and water, and we tried to help her up. But she didn’t try to help at all. We decided to give her the night and see if rest would make a difference. I picked fresh grass for her, which she appreciated and ate with good appetite.

The next morning, I could see that it had worsened. She still wanted to eat and drink, but I called the veterinarian and asked him to come as soon as possible. He said he couldn’t come until the afternoon.

By noon, she was dead.

Watching her death throes without being able to do anything was unbearable.

Afterwards, there is only stillness. Tears. And the endless question of whether something could have been done differently.

And then that feeling that brings guilt – relief.

Relief that I didn’t have to make the decision.
Relief that she had always been fragile and required special feeding.
Relief from the constant worry about her weight. I have always been careful that my horses have plenty of feed, yet she often looked thin. When there was abundant grass, she looked normal – but otherwise I carried the feeling that people might think I wasn’t taking proper care of her.

I teach others that guilt can be crumpled up and thrown away.
Yes… it affects me too.

Mercedes was my last broodmare. Now only Maersk remains, 19 years old – my last breeding after Mackay.

It feels deep inside that 40 years of breeding are over. That nearly all of them are gone. To have devoted an entire life to breeding beautiful horses – and now they are no longer here.

It is empty when I go out to feed. No one greeting me. The geldings are not nearly as talkative as she was. She always spotted me from a distance and neighed.

Mercedes…
your blue eyes are now closed forever. 💙

There Is No Time for Reflection

Some time ago, I published a summary of a podcast episode where we discussed questions about equine influenza vaccination. The response was overwhelming – so much so that I eventually had to close the comment section. I was even reported and ended up in “Facebook jail.”

It stirred up strong emotions. The discussion quickly became polarized – for and against – and even expanded into debates about other vaccines. Despite the consequences, I do not regret bringing up the topic. On the contrary. When reactions are that strong, it shows how important it is to talk about difficult issues. The level of interest was clearly enormous.

Before each podcast episode, I create a few short reels as a preview and post one each day. There was a great deal of engagement there as well – many comments and strong opinions. So when the full podcast episode was released, with clear links to make sure no one would miss it, I was surprised by how few people actually listened.

I had expected that those who were so engaged in the posts and reels would also want to hear the full conversation. That made me reflect. How many people take a stand based on a short post or a one-minute video, where they only see or hear a fraction of the discussion? Have they truly explored what it means – whether they are for or against – or is their opinion based on something they heard from someone else? Is there real experience behind it, or is it simply a reaction in the moment?

It sometimes feels as though we are quick to judge without knowing the full background. We live in a stressful time, where we are expected to take a position on almost everything. Yet there is time to comment – just not always time to listen to the entire discussion.

Many people also choose to write anonymously. They want to participate in the conversation, but not necessarily take full responsibility for their words. We want to be seen and heard – but often only one way. When someone holds a different opinion, it can feel threatening, and then it becomes easier to report than to engage in dialogue.

I do not like when the space to express oneself – whether in a post or a comment – is restricted simply because opinions differ. If you are certain you are right and do not want to encounter other perspectives, why not simply scroll past what you do not like?

I will continue writing my blog, producing my podcast, and addressing new topics. I hope that even those who do not fully agree with me can see it in a broader context – and perhaps also explore the many other conversations and interviews I have shared over the years.

We can never agree on everything. And as I often say: do you stop watching TV just because there is one program you do not like?

Thank you to those of you who continue to follow, listen, and engage.

My podcast is called Horse and Health, and you can find it on most platforms.

There has been a lot of discussion lately about how horses can feel when we are nervous. How they are affected by our mood, our thoughts, and our emotions. But this isn’t new. Anyone who has truly spent time with horses already knows this.

The horse is an expert at reading us.
They notice the smallest change in our breathing, muscle tension, and focus. What we try to hide in our minds is often clearly expressed in our bodies.

At the same time, we live in a society built on caution and performance. We are taught to protect ourselves, to secure everything, to be careful. Helmet, vest, gadgets. We are also taught to achieve, to keep up, to succeed. Stress increases — and with it, fear.

But maybe what we need first isn’t more protection.
Maybe we need more understanding.

When we learn to read the horse from the ground, to understand the signals, to build the relationship before we get in the saddle — fear naturally decreases. Confidence grows from competence.

But that takes time. And time is exactly what many people feel they don’t have today.

Parents stand by the arena, investing both money and hopes. Progress is expected. Results should be visible. Even when it’s well-intended, that pressure is there.

I believe many fears around horses come from this very thing: not giving it enough time.

And let’s be honest.
There is no one who has never felt fear around a large horse. If someone says they haven’t, they are not being completely truthful.

Fear itself is a reflex. We cannot control that first reaction.
But we can influence what happens in the next second.

When a horse spooks, your nervous system reacts too. That is natural. It travels both ways. But if you know how to regulate your breathing, soften your body, and guide your thoughts back to calm — that is real safety. Not ignoring fear, but managing it.

It can easily become a taboo subject.
No one wants to be “the fearful one.” What if people think you’re not competent enough? What if you’re not welcome?

Yet fear can appear at any time.
After many years with horses.
After a fall.
During a stressful period at work.
Or simply because life feels overwhelming.

Sometimes we are not afraid of the horse.
We are afraid of falling.
Of losing control.
Of the unexpected happening out on the trail.

Fear is not your enemy. It is information.

So the real question is not whether you feel fear.
The real question is:

What triggers your fear — and what do you choose to do in the moment after? 💛🐴

Do You Have the Right Horse?

This is a topic I come back to from time to time. Not to be repetitive, but because it’s an important question. As a coach, I hear it often:
“Well, this isn’t the horse I thought I was going to buy.”

Think about it – did you feel the same when you were overjoyed with your horse purchase? Often, emotions guide our decisions. We see a horse that may be struggling, or one whose owner isn’t managing it well, or maybe it’s inexpensive because the previous owner couldn’t handle certain habits or health issues.

One phrase I hear a lot is:
“I probably shouldn’t have bought a young horse!”
That cute little foal has grown into a 3–4-year-old, and suddenly the size hits you. Thoughts start creeping in about sending it “to someone who can and dares to handle it.”

Another common comment is:
“I’ll try to find a rider tougher than me, so the horse can get more exercise.”

This happens even to people who have had horses their whole lives. Suddenly, they face situations they can’t quite manage. Confidence wavers when the horse doesn’t respond the way they expect. But every horse is an individual and needs to be treated accordingly.

Many have been taught that you should always send the horse to someone “who knows how.” That may make sense for a breeder, but if you only have one horse and you’re the one riding it, it’s usually better to seek help to learn how to manage it yourself. Otherwise, the same issues often return when the horse comes home – it recognizes its familiar surroundings and the owner who doubts their own abilities.

A horse doesn’t know what’s “right” or “wrong” in riding, but it can feel when you’re nervous. Simply worrying that you’re not skilled enough can make you tense. That’s why I often encourage riders to understand that you don’t need perfect posture or rigid rules to earn a horse’s trust.

Then there are all the comments from others:
“What a talent – and it’s just standing in the paddock! When will you start riding it?”
Suddenly, pressure builds, and you start doubting your time, your age, or your courage.

I’ve helped many riders regain their confidence and rediscover the connection with their horse. It’s not just about having the “right horse” – it’s about truly understanding and working with the one you have. Listen, enjoy your time together, give it patience, and remember: you bought the horse for yourself, not for anyone else to “tame” it for you.

The hardest horses often teach us the most. If you want support along the way, I’m currently offering a free consultation to help you reflect on whether you really have the right horse for you.