A Doctor’s View: The Physical and Mental Health Benefits of Working with Horses

Hamza Mousa MD, Software Developer, Horse Rider

Oct 18, 2025

I started as a doctor. Not because I wanted to be one. But because I had to.

Restless leg syndrome. Epilepsy. Chronic pain. My body was a battlefield. And the medicine? It helped, sure. But it didn’t fix the root. Not really.

Then came Kuzey.

Not by choice. I didn’t plan to become a horse owner. I just found myself standing in a stall, looking into his eyes, and feeling something I hadn’t felt in years, peace.

And then it hit me: riding wasn’t just about movement. It was about connection. About rhythm. About presence.

I’d been sitting behind a desk for too long. My spine was stiff. My mind was racing. But on the back of that horse? Everything changed.

I started noticing things. How my breathing slowed. How my shoulders dropped. How my hands stopped shaking when I gripped the reins. Even my seizures, less frequent. Not gone. But quieter. More manageable.

And then there was my son.

He had growing pains. Not just physical. Emotional. He’d wake up crying. His legs would ache at night. I tried everything, pills, stretches, heat packs. Nothing worked. Then one day, I let him walk barefoot beside Kuzey. No saddle. No bridle. Just walking through the field.

Two weeks later, he said, “Baba, I don’t hurt anymore.”

I didn’t believe it. But he was right. The pain was gone. Not because of magic. Because of motion. Of nature. Of a horse who didn’t care about diagnoses, he just was.

That’s when I realized: horses aren’t just companions. They’re healers.


Horses Don’t Lie. They Heal.

You don’t need a medical degree to feel this. You just need to be present.

But here’s what most people miss: when you ride, your body is doing more than moving. It’s retraining. Every step your horse takes, your core engages. Your pelvis shifts. Your spine aligns. Your balance improves. It’s not passive. It’s active therapy.

And it’s not just for adults.

I’ve seen it with my own eyes.

My friend’s autistic son, he used to shut down in crowded spaces. Couldn’t speak. Wouldn’t make eye contact. Then we brought him to the barn. Let him groom Kuzey. Just touch him. No pressure. No expectations.

After three sessions? He smiled. Said, “Hello.” Not just once. Every time.

Another friend, my dentist, had forward head posture. Neck pain. Constant headaches. He sat all day. His neck was like a crane. I told him to come ride. Not to race. Not to impress anyone. Just to sit. To feel the rhythm.

Six weeks later? He called me. “I can feel my spine again,” he said. “I’m not leaning forward anymore.”

And then there was the 13-year-old girl.

Tech Neck. Her neck was bent over like she was always texting. She was only 13. Her future looked like chronic pain. I took her out with Kuzey. No saddle. Just walking. Focusing on posture. On breath. On being still.

She didn’t know she was healing. But she was.

By the end of the month, her shoulders were back. Her head was centered. She stood taller. Smiled wider.

And yes, she still uses her phone. But now, she knows how to stop.


The Science Behind the Saddle

This isn’t just anecdotal. There’s evidence.

Equine-assisted therapy, hippotherapy, isn’t new. It’s been used for decades. And studies show it helps with:

  • Anxiety
  • Depression
  • PTSD
  • Autism spectrum disorders
  • Cerebral palsy
  • Multiple sclerosis
  • Spinal cord injuries
  • Balance disorders
  • Musculoskeletal issues

And the list goes on. Over 60 documented conditions where horses play a role in recovery.

But here’s the thing most people don’t get: hippotherapy isn’t about riding on the horse. It’s about riding with the horse.

It’s about syncing your body with theirs. About letting their gait mimic human walking patterns. About improving neuromuscular control.

When a horse moves, its hips shift side to side. That movement transfers to the rider. It strengthens the core. Improves coordination. Corrects pelvic tilt. Realigns the spine.

It’s not exercise. It’s rehabilitation.

And if you’re a doctor, a rider, an athlete, or even someone just trying to heal, this matters.


Why I Wrote The Promise

Because I saw the gap.

Most people treat horses like tools. Like machines. Like pets.

But I see them differently.

To me, a horse is not a toy. Not a status symbol. Not a way to show off.

He’s a teacher. A therapist. A partner.

And when I wrote The Promise, I wasn’t writing just about riding. I was writing about healing. About responsibility. About the bond between a man and his horse, and how that bond can save lives.

I wanted to share what I’ve learned, not from textbooks alone, but from real moments. From pain. From failure. From watching my son walk without pain. From seeing my friends regain their health.

In The Promise, I talk about:

  • Why you should never ride without purpose
  • How horses reflect your inner state
  • The dangers of ego and ignorance in riding culture
  • The importance of discipline, consistency, and honesty
  • How to build a relationship that lasts, not just for a season, but for life

This book isn’t about tricks. It’s about truth.

It’s about what happens when you stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about the horse.


What’s Next? Stay Tuned.

I’m not done.

This is just the beginning.

I’ll keep writing here. Sharing stories. Experiences. Observations.

I’ll dive deeper into hippotherapy. Into equine-assisted therapy. Into how horses can help with tech neck, shoulder blade dysfunction, abnormal gaits, pelvic misalignment, muscle imbalances, and more.

I’ll share real cases, without names, without drama. Just facts. Just results.

Because healing doesn’t need hype. It needs honesty.

And if you’re reading this, whether you’re a rider, a parent, a therapist, or just someone struggling, know this:

Your horse might already be helping you. You just haven’t noticed.

Or maybe you’re ready to try.

Either way, you’re not alone.


This book isn’t just for experienced riders. It’s for anyone who wants to do better. To be better. To honor the horse as he deserves.

Because when we stop seeing horses as tools and start seeing them as equals, we don’t just become better riders, we become better humans.

And that’s the promise I made.

Now, it’s yours to keep.

Stay tuned. Read the book. Keep coming back.

The journey isn’t over. It’s just getting started.