By Joanna Lepiarczyk 

Borys was a black Warmblood with excellent movement and rare athletic potential — the kind of horse people notice, the kind trainers pin their hopes on. By the time Borys came to our barn, he was more than 10 years old, and his story was already heavy with effort and disappointment. He had spent most of his life in one of the city’s top sports stables, which was a competitive, professional place built for results. It had great trainers, indoor and outdoor arenas, and serious riders. But there was no pasture, no turnout, and no herd. It wasn’t harsh; it was just focused. Horses there had a job to do, and everything was designed to support that.

Borys’s job was to become great. Trainers worked hard to shape his potential into performance. He was put through many years of schooling. Different riders tried their hand and methods. His tack was adjusted. Feeding, schedules, and supplements were optimized. The problem wasn’t effort; it was that Borys didn’t cooperate. Under saddle, he became explosive. He reared, bucked, and bolted. He was powerful and unpredictable — impossible to relax on and impossible to control. But a horse with that kind of talent couldn’t be lost to “behavioural problems,” so they tried harder until eventually, they gave up. One day, Borys was dropped off at our barn. He wasn’t sold or retired. In a quiet, uneventful way, he was just left here. He was unrideable and no longer wanted.

That’s how I met this beautiful, difficult horse. 

Related: Rethinking the Pace of Horse Training: Why Slower Often Means Smarter

Borys in 1997 enjoying just being a horse. Pasture, sunshine, a herd to live with, and freedom made all the difference. Photo courtesy of Joanna Lepiarczyk

Instead of trying to “fix” him, my dad gave him something he hadn’t had in years: space. For months, Borys was left alone, with no arena, no expectations, and no work. Just pasture, sunshine, a herd to move with, and the freedom to say yes or no to people. We watched him nap in the sun, graze with our other horses, play, and communicate. With time, his eyes changed, his body softened, and he began coming toward us on his own. One day months later, my dad quietly mounted him. No drama, no breakthrough moment. Borys carried him as if they’d always known each other.

We were told Borys was dangerous. He wasn’t. He was overwhelmed, shut down, and above all, misunderstood. His story reminds me of something we often forget: Horse behaviour cannot be explained through just one perspective, because it is never just about obedience or disobedience. It’s about the whole horse — what he has lived, what he has felt, and what he is still holding inside.

When a horse shows “bad behaviour,” we tend to look for a single cause and a single solution. 

Training problem? Fix it with a better technique.

Pain issue? Call the vet.

Not enough respect? Get stronger with your aids.

But horse behaviour doesn’t come from one source — it’s never that simple. Horse behaviour is a reflection of deeper processes, not personality quirks or disobedience. As Daniel Mills and Sue McDonnell point out in The Domestic Horse: The Origins, Development and Management of its Behaviour, equine behaviour is best understood by considering the horse’s evolutionary design, his current environment, and his past experiences. To understand why a horse behaves the way he does, we need to look through many lenses.

Evolutionary Design: The horse’s nervous system is built for survival. His reactions — bolting, freezing, and spooking — are fast responses from a body designed to stay alive. It’s about reacting early and fast. That’s how horses made it this far.

Sensory Environment: Horses perceive the world through their acute senses. Environments like flashy arenas and busy barns often bring in sights, sounds, and smells that don’t fit what their system was built for. Some horses adjust, but others stay on edge. It’s not always a training issue — sometimes it’s just too much input, too often.

Social Structure and Upbringing: In natural herds, horses grow up with steady contact, clear and dynamic roles, and constant feedback from others. When that’s missing, whether through isolation, rushed handling, or too much change early on, it can shape how a horse relates to others later. Big reactions or separation struggles often trace back to those early days.

Related: Simple Ways to Enrich Your Horse’s Life Through Curiosity, Connection, and Choice

Ethological Needs: Movement, grazing, rest, and social time are all basic needs. When horses can’t meet those needs, we often see signs such as weaving, cribbing, frustration under saddle, and shutting down. They’re signs of a system trying to cope with what’s missing.

Memory and Emotional Learning: Horses remember not just events, but how those events felt. A horse that resists something today may be responding to something that happened a long time ago, especially if pain or fear was involved. They don’t forget easily, and that sensitivity is part of what makes them who they are.

Domestic horses living in environments that conflict with their natural biology experience significant mental strain. This overload of the nervous system affects not only their well-being, but also their behaviour, our interactions with them, and their ability to learn and train effectively. Changes in behaviour — especially behaviours perceived as difficult or challenging — are often signs of internal conflict rather than disobedience. Without understanding underlying factors, we risk mislabeling signs of stress, trauma, or confusion as “bad behaviour.”

Stress, trauma, or internal conflict may manifest as behaviours labelled “difficult” or “disobedient,” reminding us to look deeper before judging the horse in front of us. Photo: Clix Photography 

If we want to look deeper, we can also consider breed predispositions, constitutional type, emotional regulation, hormone cycles, neurobiology, and individual temperament traits. These layers help us understand the why behind behaviour. They shift our focus away from “How do I fix this?” and toward “What is this horse trying to cope with?”

Related: Could Your Saddle Be Causing Behaviour Problems?

Take Borys for example. His behaviour appeared rebellious on the surface, but what if it was actually a survival response? What Borys needed was not a firmer hand, but a different approach — one that allowed his nervous system, body, and brain the opportunity to reset and feel safe again.

Behaviour is never just behaviour. Each reaction, whether subtle or intense, reflects how that horse is processing his world. When horses are exposed to prolonged stress — whether through environmental deprivation, conflicting training signals, social isolation, or overstimulation — their entire system tries to adapt. But many times, adaptation is impossible. Not all stress results in a case of hyperactivity. Just as often, it results in withdrawal — a reduced responsiveness to the world, which is sometimes mistaken for calmness or “a quiet personality.” This can manifest as:

• Lack of curiosity or engagement
• A flat, vacant expression
• Low energy, slow responses
• Avoidance of contact
• A general sense of emotional disconnection

As Margit H. Zeitler-Feicht writes in Horse Behaviour Explained: Origins, Treatment and Prevention of Problems, “a horse that stops reacting is not necessarily well-adjusted — he may simply have stopped trying.” Not all stress looks like tension or reactivity. Sometimes, it looks like nothing at all.

Horses don’t always act stressed in ways we expect. When their environment consistently fails to meet their natural needs, they may stop reacting altogether. This is not because they’ve adapted but because they’ve shut down. This isn’t calm, it’s collapse.

We talk openly about ulcers, lameness, and feeding programs. We monitor performance, track fitness, and adjust routines with care. But when it comes to a horse’s emotional life, there’s often a quiet gap in the conversation. For a horse’s nervous system to stay healthy, behavioural adaptation is key. That adaptation depends on the horse having some control, and the ability to choose how to respond to his environment. A free-roaming horse decides when to graze, rest, move, or interact. That freedom allows for self-regulation. In managed settings, most of those choices are made for him. A horse kept in a stall with limited forage and high-energy feed may be meeting his nutritional needs on paper, but not his need to chew, to move, or to self-soothe. The horse may try to cope by resting more, chewing wood, or developing an aberrant behaviour, but those strategies don’t always bridge the gap between what the body needs and what the environment allows. When that gap becomes too wide, horses may enter a depressive state. 

In a 2012 study¹ published in Applied Animal Behaviour Science, Carole Fureix and colleagues identified a specific group of stabled horses that showed signs of what can best be described as a depressive-like state. These horses didn’t react to their surroundings in expected ways. They stood motionless with their heads at the level of their withers, eyes open, ears unresponsive, and showed no interest when approached. Importantly, this behaviour wasn’t linked to physical health issues; rather, it reflected something emotional and behavioural. The researchers compared these withdrawn horses to others in the same barns who were more alert and responsive. Physiological and behavioural markers suggested that the unresponsive horses were not simply resting. Their lack of engagement, both with humans and with their own environment, aligned with clinical markers of depression in other species, including humans and primates.

Related: Lesson Horses in Canada: A Closer Look at Care, Challenges, and the Road Ahead

Depression in horses is documented. A 2012 study published in Applied Animal Behaviour Science identified a group of stabled horses showing signs of a depressive-like state — standing motionless, emotionally withdrawn, and unresponsive to both people and their environment. Researchers found these horses were not physically ill or simply resting; their behaviour closely mirrored clinical markers of depression seen in humans and other social species. Photo: Pam Mackenzie

This matters because it shows us that depression in horses is not just a metaphor. It’s something we can observe, measure, and respond to. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away. when we start recognizing the signs, we can begin to adjust our management in ways that truly support both physical and emotional well-being.

Depression in horses is a documented phenomenon, not a dramatic claim. It doesn’t mean we’ve failed as caregivers; it means we’re still learning. Just like us, horses have inner worlds. They form bonds, feel grief, AND experience frustration, curiosity, and joy. When those needs are chronically unmet, when stress becomes unmanageable or life becomes too small, horses can become mentally unwell.

The good news is that we can do something about it. It begins with paying attention — noticing what the horse is communicating and making space in our routines, training programs, and barn culture to ask: How is this horse really feeling?

We do not need to have all the answers yet, but we do have the opportunity to listen more carefully and to care in ways that go beyond the physical. Not softer, but deeper.

Mental health is not an optional extra we address once everything else is done. It is a fundamental need, just as essential as food, water, movement, or hoof care. For a species as sensitive, perceptive, and emotionally attuned as the horse, mental well-being forms the foundation of a good life.

It is also the foundation of a healthy partnership. No amount of physical training can compensate for emotional imbalance, and no program can truly reach its potential if the horse is simply surviving rather than thriving.

When we begin to see behaviour through the lens of emotional well-being — not just obedience or performance — our entire approach changes. We train differently, respond differently, and care differently. Instead of asking only what the horse is doing, we begin to ask what the horse is experiencing. when a horse feels understood and supported, he has the opportunity to show us his true nature — not just the behaviours he has adopted to cope or endure.

Related: Looking Beyond "Problem Horses"

Related: How to Support Your Horse Through Change

Main Photo: Pam Mackenzie 

1. Investigating anhedonia in a non-conventional species: Do some riding horses Equus caballus display symptoms of depression?