People often assume confidence is something you either have or you don't.

For years, I was the person everyone assumed had it. I was Hunt Secretary, hunted several times a week and would happily jump anything put in front of me. If you'd told me then that one day I'd hesitate before a perfectly ordinary hunt rail, I'd have listened but thought it unlikely.

But confidence has a funny way of humbling us.

It doesn't matter how experienced you are or how many years you've ridden. Confidence can disappear after a fall, after an injury, after time away from horses, after having children, or simply because life changes and the risks begin to feel different.

I've lost my confidence before and managed to get it back relatively quickly. This time felt different.

After my first child, I was lucky enough to have my trusty hunter, who looked after me brilliantly and helped me find my confidence again. After my second, I rode less. After my third, there was a long period where I hardly rode at all.

Looking back, though, I don't think it was just motherhood. As we get older, life fills up with responsibilities. Families, careers and people and animals that depend on us. We become more aware of the consequences if things go wrong.

When I was younger, I rarely thought beyond the next fence. Now I think about the school run, work, who'll look after the horses and what an injury would mean. Those aren't irrational fears - they're simply the realities of adult life. Sometimes that awareness quietly chips away at confidence.

Looking back, I realise confidence isn't just about believing in your riding. Sometimes it's about having the confidence to admit you've lost it. That can be the hardest part.

When you've always been known as someone who'd have a go at anything, admitting you're nervous can feel like admitting failure. In my experience, the opposite is true.

Last season was my best for many years. One day in particular stands out. One of our Masters very generously offered me her horse. She knew I wanted - perhaps needed - to have a good day, and by lending me such a kind, experienced horse she gave me exactly that.

It wasn't just about riding a lovely horse. It was about someone recognising that confidence sometimes needs a helping hand. That simple act of kindness gave me a huge boost, and I'm not sure you'd find that so naturally in many other equestrian disciplines.

To me, that's what makes trail hunting so special.

There is no pressure to prove yourself. If you want to jump, you jump. If today isn't the day, you go through the gate. Nobody judges.

There's a genuine camaraderie that's hard to explain unless you've experienced it. The horses, the hounds, the countryside and, above all, the people who create an environment where confidence can quietly rebuild itself.

Whether you're returning after an injury, rebuilding confidence after a fall, coming back after years away from horses, or simply finding yourself more cautious than you once were, you'll find a community that understands. The people involved in trail hunting offer the time, the space and the support to rebuild confidence at your own pace.

It's a wonderful place for experienced riders returning after a knock, but equally for children building confidence for the first time. It teaches you to trust your horse, your judgement and build on your riding skills.

If my own experience has taught me anything, it is that losing confidence isn't a sign of weakness, and it certainly isn't something that only happens to inexperienced riders. It can happen to anyone.

Perhaps confidence isn't something we lose forever. Perhaps it simply changes as we do. Sometimes finding it again isn't about becoming the rider you once were - it's about becoming the rider you are now.

Photo credit: David Bunn Photography