Bravery in Motherhood: Lessons From Roller Coasters & Horses
- Mary Clare Pyron
- Sep 3, 2025
- 4 min read
One thing I never expected about having kids is how much they would teach me to be brave.
Motherhood asks us to be brave in many ways we never expect. Sometimes it’s in the big, obvious moments—like protecting our children in emergencies. Other times, it’s in the everyday choices: smiling through our own fear so our kids can find their own courage.
For me, bravery in motherhood has shown up in unexpected places: on roller coasters, in horseback riding adventures, and in the quiet moments where fear and love meet.
The First Lesson in Courage: A Roller Coaster Ride
I’ve never been a big roller coaster person or thrill-seeker. In the past, I’d make myself ride just to earn some imaginary badge of courage or to avoid missing out on something everyone else seemed to think was “fun”. But the thrill? It’s never been something I’ve naturally sought out.
But one fall break at Dollywood, my three-year-old was tall enough to ride a pretty intense coaster. (My girls have always been tall for their age.)
As we buckled in, fear flashed across her face—and I realized it mirrored my own.
I panicked: What in the world was I doing putting a three-year-old on a roller coaster?
But we were committed. So in that moment, I had to decide: Would I show her my fear, or would I model courage?
So I smiled as big as I could and said, “Isn’t this so much fun?” She gave me a tiny, tearful smile in return.
When the ride ended, I braced myself for tears and a “Never again!” But instead, she turned to me and said, “That was so much fun!”
That day, I learned that bravery in motherhood sometimes means setting aside my fear so my kids can discover their joy.
And if it weren’t for needing to be brave for her, I think I’d still dread roller coasters.
But now? I ride them with a smile—and laugh alongside my kids the whole way.
Choosing Courage Again: Horseback Riding Out West
Fast forward a few years, and we found ourselves out west, riding horses together. While I’ve been on horses before, I wouldn’t call myself a confident rider. I know how sensitive horses are to human emotions, and I felt the weight of needing to stay calm—for both myself and my kids.
Once again, I had to practice bravery in motherhood: to acknowledge my fear, move through it, and show my kids what it looks like to stretch your comfort zone.
It was also a beautiful opportunity to show my kids that even grown-ups can feel nervous—and that we can still stretch our comfort zones and discover something new, different, even beautiful on the other side of fear.
Finding Bravery in the Uncertainty
But bravery doesn’t always come in joyful packages. During that same trip, someone in our group was thrown from a horse. It was a serious fall—broken bones, hospital stay, the kind of moment you hope your children never witness.
Suddenly, everything shifted. The reality of fear was right in front of us. My kids had to process it, and so did I.
We had to choose…
To make the conscious choice to get back on our horses, even while feeling acutely aware of how powerful and unpredictable they can be.
Would I have preferred to take a few days off from riding? Honestly—1,000% yes.
Still, helping my kids be brave meant staying engaged. It meant learning together—how to ride properly, how to care for the horses, how to respond in emergencies. It meant helping them respect the strength of these incredible animals without being ruled by fear.
It wasn’t easy.
But I’m so very proud.
Proud of myself. Proud of my kids. Proud that we chose to be brave.
Proud that we quite literally got back on the horse.
The Truth About Bravery in Motherhood
Bravery in motherhood isn’t about conquering roller coasters or riding horses without fear. It’s about the daily choices we make to model courage for our children:
Breathing through our fear to stay grounded so they can feel safe.
Choosing to get back up after hard moments.
Admitting that adults feel fear, too—and that’s okay.
Showing our kids that growth often lives on the other side of discomfort.
Motherhood will always hold unexpected challenges. But in those moments where our kids look to us for reassurance, we have the chance to show them what bravery looks like—not perfection, just presence.
Every roller coaster, every horse ride, every hard moment is an invitation to lean into bravery in motherhood. And when we do, we give our children a gift far greater than courage—we give them connection, trust, and the freedom to discover their own brave hearts.
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