From an early age, I felt a deep connection with all living beings. I carried snails across roads, visited frogs by the pond, and helped my mother care for the animals she rescued. That sensitivity — the awareness that every creature wants to live and be well — has guided me ever since.

My journey with horses began in childhood, drawn to their unique blend of power and gentleness, strength and vulnerability. Two early teachers shaped me profoundly: an old woman who lived at the edge of the forest with a herd of ponies running free, and my first dressage teacher, who ran a small therapy stable and taught by asking questions, not giving answers. With them, I learned that true connection with a horse is built through patience, curiosity, and quiet communication.

During my university years, I stepped away from riding for a time. I couldn’t reconcile my love for horses with the harshness I often saw in conventional training. The turning point came when I discovered Bent Branderup’s Academic Art of Riding. His words felt like a homecoming — a path that united art, mindfulness, and horsemanship. I began studying under Bent Branderup and Marius Schneider, gradually shaping my own understanding of this beautiful art.

Today I live near Warsaw, Poland, and I teach riders from all over the world. I am a licensed Bent Branderup® Trainer and a member of the Knighthood of the Academic Art of Riding. My teaching blends biomechanics, body awareness, and empathy — helping riders and horses find balance, softness, and trust in each other.

I believe the horse is more than a mirror; the horse is a guide. Through them, we learn patience, clarity, and humility. They invite us to listen — not only to them, but to ourselves.

At home, I share a small free-range stable with a friend, where our horses live in a herd, free to move and express themselves naturally. It’s a place of learning and peace, where everyday moments reveal the essence of connection.

This is more than my profession. It’s a lifelong journey and a calling. Because of the horse, I’ve found purpose, presence, and a way to share what truly matters: harmony between body, mind, and heart — for both horse and human.

Because of the Horse...

I became a lifelong student of balance — in movement, in teaching, and in myself. They’ve shown me that harmony is not something to be achieved, but something to be felt.

The horse keeps me honest and reminds me that clarity matters more than perfection, and that true strength is found in softness. Through them, I’ve learned to carry awareness and presence far beyond the saddle.