Luxe Beat Magazine NOVEMBER 2014 | Page 108

Flying on Horseback in Jamaica By Barbara McNally I n Unbridled: A Memoir, Barbara McNally chronicles her journey from stifled, dependent housewife to independent, joyous and authentic living. She starts by tracing her roots in Ireland, and when her ex-husband gets remarried and goes on his honeymoon, Barbara decides to take a solo vacation to Hedonism, a clothing-optional resort in Jamaica. On her way to the beach to ride horses, her taxi breaks down in front of an orphanage for abused teenage girls. She decides to stay overnight to learn more about these girls, and how she can help, which ultimately leads Barbara to create her foundation, Mother Lover Fighter Sage, which fundraises to fight sex trafficking. While staying with the girls, she treats them to a horseback ride—a first for most of them. Although I’d only met the girls the day before and didn’t know them very well, I knew horses. They were loyal, sociable, and eminently capable. A horse would keep a secret, no matter how awful it was. I could only imagine a fraction of what these girls had been through, but by introducing them to horses, I was sharing what I considered to be a little bit of heaven on earth. On a more tangible level, I thought that if I could help them overcome their fear of horses, perhaps they could overcome other obstacles on their own. Once we had all mounted up, we rode single file down a path through the trees. The dense forest was cool, even in the heat of the afternoon. Palm fronds rustled in the breeze, and soft ferns uncurled on the damp jungle floor. We passed waterfalls that splashed across the trail, and I watched many of the girls reach out to run their fingers through the gushing water, delighted by the cool splatter against their hands. I encouraged Monique to do the same, and as her hand made contact with the water, she giggled and pulled it back. “Go ahead, try it again,” I said, reining my horse to a stop. She shot her hand back into the waterfall and let the cool cascade sluice through her fingers. “That feels good,” she said, smiling though missing teeth. I grinned at her. We caught up with the rest of the group and headed toward the beach. When we arrived, we all dismounted. Several of the girls had flung their shoes into the wet sand as they ran straight for the water, fully clothed, with dreadlocks flying behind them like flags in the wind. The water slid off their bodies, and their skin glistened in the sun. I was surprised to discover that, even though these girls had been raised on an island, many of them didn’t know how to swim. They waded into the surf and splashed each other 108 with the salty froth, playing with the abandon of youth. Some dolphins cruised by, and a few of the swimmers imitated their easy sail through the water. For several hours, the girls bounced about in the water, their cares and worries temporarily forgotten. I thought of how these free-spirited girls were more appreciative than many women I knew back in the States, who took their blessings for granted yet were trapped by fear and inertia within their own mental prisons. These girls were real victims, and they put things in perspective for me. Naomi lobbed a clump of white sand at an unsuspecting Marsha, who gave chase. Monique stood nearby, watching the action on the beach with a huge smile on her face. Shading my eyes with my hands, I looked back toward the shore and saw the van from the stable emerge on a gravel road that had been