OUR STORY
Sometimes the path forward begins when the original path disappears.
There was a time when I believed my greatest journey was behind me.
I couldn't have been more wrong…
BEFORE FIFTY SHADES OF BAY
In 2021, I set out on horseback with a mission: ride 5,000 miles across America and inspire the adoption of 5,000 mustangs from government holding facilities.
For nearly two years, the Mustang Discovery Ride gave my life structure and purpose.
Every morning there was somewhere to go- try to make it a little farther west.
Every mile mattered.
Every hard day still moved us toward something.
And then the ride ended…
I expected to feel accomplished, but instead, I felt lost.
The purpose that had carried me across the country disappeared, and I didn't know what came next.
WHEN MOVING FORWARD STOPPED
My struggle with mental health didn't begin when the ride ended.
I had lived with depression and anxiety for years and eventually developed PTSD after surviving an abusive relationship. My psychiatric service dog, Kayuh, helped me navigate panic attacks and the lasting effects of trauma.
Strangely, life on the trail gave me something I desperately needed.
Movement.
There was always another camp to reach. Another problem to solve. Another mile to ride.
I didn't need to know how I was going to cross the entire country that day.
I only needed to figure out how to reach the next camp.
But when the expedition ended, that forward movement disappeared.
After years of surviving, I had finally reached a safer chapter of my life. I married my best friend. I wasn't fighting the same battles anymore.
And somehow, that was when years of buried trauma began catching up with me and rose to the surface.
Therapy helped. Medication helped. Rehabilitation helped. People who loved me helped.
But surviving and knowing why you want to keep living aren't always the same thing.
I had lost my sense of purpose.
JULY 11, 2025
On July 11, 2025, I attempted to end my life.
I survived because people who loved me acted quickly.
There is no polished version of that sentence as it was the darkest point of my life.
And I don't tell this part of my story because I want Fifty Shades of Bay to be defined by a suicide attempt.
I tell it because Fifty Shades of Bay is built on a belief in understanding.
If we're going to ask people to look beyond a mustang's behavior and understand what may have happened before that moment, then I believe we owe people the same grace.
Sometimes what looks like failure, anger, fear, withdrawal, defensiveness, or hopelessness makes more sense when we understand the road that brought someone there.
Understanding doesn't excuse everything.
It doesn't erase responsibility.
And it doesn't mean we stay where we are.
It simply gives us an honest place from which to begin.
THE HORSES HAD BEEN TEACHING ME ALL ALONG
A couple months after my suicide attempt, I attended a five-day equine-guided intensive with Amanda Held who founded H.O.O.V.E.S.
I went because I was still trying to figure out how to move forward. I left realizing that the horses had been showing me something for years… my purpose.
A wild mustang who is gathered from the range cannot simply return to the life it knew… Its reality has changed.
That horse may find itself standing behind a fence in a holding facility, surrounded by a world it did not choose and does not understand.
If it eventually enters domestic life, we cannot ask it to pretend none of that happened.
We have to understand where it came from and we have to listen to the horse standing in front of us.And then, together, we begin figuring out what comes next.
I realized people aren't so different.
There are chapters of our lives we cannot undo. There are things we cannot un-know. There are versions of ourselves, relationships, homes, dreams, careers, abilities, and futures that we may never get back exactly as they once were.
Maybe moving forward isn't about getting back to who we were before.
Maybe it's about understanding where we've been, accepting where we are, and discovering who we can become from here.
That realization became Fifty Shades of Bay.
MUSTANGS + PEOPLE = PURPOSE
There are thousands of mustangs in holding facilities across America waiting for what comes next.
There are people doing the same thing.
Fifty Shades of Bay exists to bring those journeys together.
Not because horses magically fix people.
They don't.
And not because every mustang needs to become something useful to humans in order to have value.
They don't.
We believe something meaningful can happen when horses and people are given the opportunity to move forward alongside one another.
A guarded horse may teach us something about trust.
An overlooked horse may challenge the way we measure worth.
A horse whose original path disappeared may show us that adapting doesn't mean failing.
And a person who feels stuck may discover that the next step doesn't require knowing the entire road ahead.
Sometimes you just have to reach the next camp.
WHY MUSTANGS?
Mustangs are not blank slates.
They arrive with histories, instincts, experiences, boundaries, strengths, fears, personalities, and ways of communicating that deserve to be understood.
Some were born wild.
Some have spent years in holding.
Some have been adopted before and returned.
Some adapt to domestic life remarkably quickly.
Others need considerably more time.
We don't believe the answer is to force every horse into the same mold.
We begin by asking:
Who is this horse?
What brought them here?
What are they telling us?
And what could moving forward look like for this individual?
Those are powerful questions to ask about people too.
UNDERSTAND-ING FIRST
Understanding is the foundation of Fifty Shades of Bay.
Before we judge behavior, label a struggle, or decide what should happen next, we try to understand what brought the horse or person to where they are today.
Then we move forward.
Understanding can create trust.
Trust can make courage possible.
Courage can open the door to connection.
Connection can help us rediscover purpose.
And purpose can give us a reason to take another step.
We aren't interested in pretending difficult things never happened.
We aren't trying to return horses or humans to some perfect version of who they were before.
And we don't believe anyone becomes permanently fixed.
Life will change again.
There will be setbacks.
There will be unexpected endings.
There will be days when the road disappears.
Our hope is that when it does, we become a little better equipped to pause, understand where we are, ask for help when we need it, adapt, and find another way forward.
THE NEXT JOURNEY
On September 1, 2027, Fifty Shades of Bay will begin traveling across all 50 states with five mustangs known as the Original Five.
In every state, we plan to ride 50 miles to raise awareness for America's wild horses, invite communities into the story, and host a five-day horse-centered Healing Intensive.
The journey will introduce people to mustangs.
It will create conversations about mental wellness.
It will connect communities.
It will help us learn.
And somewhere along those miles, we hope both horses and people discover possibilities that weren't visible before.
The expedition is only the beginning.
The long-term vision is to build a permanent home where mustangs can receive thoughtful opportunities for adoption or sanctuary, people can find meaningful support alongside horses and qualified professionals, and what we learn can help improve outcomes for both.
We don't know exactly where that home will be yet.
There are a lot of things we don't know yet.
That's okay.
I've learned something about long journeys:
You don't have to see the entire road before you're allowed to begin.
You just need somewhere meaningful to go next.
THE ROAD AHEAD
Fifty Shades of Bay began because my original path disappeared.
The mustangs taught me that a changed reality doesn't have to mean the end of a meaningful life.
Now five of them are preparing to carry that lesson across America.
50 states.
50 miles in each state.
Five mustangs.
Thousands of stories.
One Herd.
The journey begins September 1, 2027.
And this time, we're building what comes next before we ever reach the end of the road.
