Not a failure

I'm taking a break from dogs to share this wonderful guest post from Anna Catherman Tanner. This is a good read for new, wannabe new showers and the rest of us. Thank you, Anna, for your candor. Your feelings are extremely relatable, even to an old pro like me. I know you've inspired someone today!

Not a Failure

by Anna Catherman Tanner

I'm a longtime model horse collector of a strange type: an extreme cheapskate, an avid DIYer who always wants to try making everything, and an introvert who usually lurks and admires from afar. Much of my "collecting" has consisted of storing and displaying four-hundred odd Breyers in my childhood bedroom, a dozen in a dorm room, and now nearly every one on display in the rental house I share with my husband.

I did a handful of shows as a teenager, including a photo show or two and Susan Bensema Young's Happy Valley Fun Show my very first year. I won overall senior performance championship with a straight-out-of-blind-bag Mini Whinnie and a bunch of DIY tack and props.

"Spotty" with her winnings. This particular show she did English, Western, Showmanship and Costume

I showed two more years at that show, with slightly less success but still a lot of blue ribbons and fun. A friend and I hosted a teeny-tiny outdoor show in 2020; it was a way for me to hold on to my sanity.

And then, I had a five-year hiatus from showing.

I went to college with an Equine minor, and I grew way too busy with real horses.

in addition to goofing off on small ponies, I also do dressage and a little bit of jumping

There were a few shows I could've tried to go to, but there were always a dozen reasons not to: time, money, chore crew shifts, practice rides. Underneath it all, I was very, very skeptical of my ability to compete at a higher level than "beat a dozen or so novices."

I ventured back into the show ring with another trip to Happy Valley in November. It's a very chill, very small show, but I won enough Halloween candy (color sorted and used as ribbons) to to satisfy my husband. I felt ready to take on a little more.

So I signed up for my first "big" show experience: Trailblazer Saddle Club's Horse-A-Palooza. I picked it for two reasons: 

1) It's the only show outside Happy Valley within an hour of me

2) It offered a Mini Halter division

I spent months preparing. I got ninety-plus horses ready for OF halter, the vast majority of them Stablemates. And I was determined to continue in my DIY Performance roots, despite being extremely self-conscious about my homemade tack. I'd seen what the competition was like. I knew I couldn't compete without spending money that should go towards a downpayment on a house. And yet, I wanted to capture that spark I had before: the creativity, the pride and joy in my creations. And so I did.

I didn't have a suitable custom, so I painted one. In just about two months, a Lady Phase body I picked up at Happy Valley became a very yellow and not terribly well-shaded buckskin.

I did have an English saddle I made myself nearly a decade ago, my first ever, and a Western saddle a significantly more skilled friend put together for me from a Rio Rondo kit. I had a Breyer doll, an arena rail and clay pumpkins, spray paint, and a mission: to enter as many classes as possible.

I spent the entire day running around, gushing over others' horses while managing entries in three rings. I didn't talk to many people or exchange contact info with a single one. My halter horses were moderately successful - three blue ribbons, a similarly small number of red and yellow ribbons, and a whole lot of fourths, fifths, and sixths.

As for my performance horse, Lady Bananagram? She came home with a plethora of ribbons...

...all of which were last place.

I didn't "win" a single ribbon in performance; the only reason I got the brightly colored cardstock I did was simply because other people didn't enter.

I came home feeling exhausted and even a bit defeated. I'd had fun...

My favorite part was ogling the Mini Collectibility entries. New grail - glossy JCPenney Paso Fino mare from the BreyerFest Silent Auction

...but I had spent literal months on preparation, during which I focused way too much on "winning big." I ended the day hungry (note to others: always pack more snacks than you think necessary) and a little disappointed.

It took me over a month to muster the time and energy to unpack everyone. I had some friends over,  we put on a favorite TV show and began the tedious task of removing one hundred horses from pouches and putting putty on their feet for reshelving. 

"Put all the ones with ribbons over there," I asked for some odd reason. "I'm going to take a group picture of them."

Yesterday, I did just that.

Something about seeing all those horses and ribbons together finally made my brain "click."

This was NOT a failure!

Even though I didn't come home with any championship ribbons or prizes, I did the thing that I was scared to do. I got back out in the showring. I went to a show, unapologetically myself, and I showed off what I wanted to show off, even when I knew my chances of being competitive were slim.

It's a thing I've struggled with a lot in all aspects of my life, but especially in horses: feeling inadequate, not worthy of being where I am.

But on March 21, 2026, I said, "Screw that." I showed up, I put my plain, mostly Regular Run, possibly slightly rubbed from childhood play horse up on the show tables.

Probably my proudest moment - my humble RR classic won the OF Breyer Quarter Horse class against 20+ entries!

I showed two horses I painted myself, with tack and props I made myself, and even if my entries need a lot of refining, I got the first bits of feedback I need towards future success and some compliments for uniqueness!

My Dressage Trail entry with documentation featuring pictures from the Braymere blog! With a better horse, saddle and doll, I think it could be awesome

My teeny tiny CollectA cutter, wearing Spotty's old saddle with a model railroad cow also painted by me! I suspect I might have placed higher if I'd actually flipped the stirrup down before judging, but I missed it... A moment I'm still embarrassed about face-palming over to this day

I didn't bring home a ton of blue and red ribbons, and I don't know yet if any friendships started that day.

But I did it. I showed. And I'm excited to do it again - next year, maybe. Or in two years. I need time to practice my painting, make some new props, and maybe even dabble in a return to tackmaking.

Because even if the results don't seem "worth it," there is so much value in setting goals, challenging yourself, and doing the things you love.

May this serve as encouragement to everyone: Do the hard, scary thing. The thing that seems fun but intimidates you. Even if there's not immediate success, you can look back and say you did it. Even if the results aren't social media perfect, the experience, the memories, and the learning are priceless.