Like many young women, I am accustomed to gossip, jealousy, and exclusion. I am aware of the envy and the politics that often occurs amongst competitors, trainers, and judges in the horse world. But nothing I experienced before prepared me for the malice at the hands of other women that I witnessed during my freshman year in Division One Equestrian.
The NCEA format for Division One Equestrian incites conflict between teammates. With only 20 starting spots for each meet and 40+ girls on each team, more than half will never even see the competition ring in all 4 years of their collegiate riding career. These odds make the opportunity of starting incredibly gratifying, but they can also create internal rivalry and hostility.
When I was given the chance to start as a freshman, I was overjoyed, but this opportunity placed a target on my back. I knew there would be a certain amount of drama surrounding the lineup. I understood the disappointment other girls felt, and I even empathized with their beliefs that they deserved to ride. I did my best to maintain a positive attitude around the barn in spite of their backhanded comments, rumours, and passive-aggressive looks. With every meet, my success in the ring grew, and with it, more backlash from my teammates. Petty microaggressions escalated into personal attacks, which consumed my life in and out of the barn.
These criticisms and catty behaviors exploded in the wake of a scathing manifesto written by the mother of another athlete. Her 30-page document was distributed to parents, coaches, and administrators. It was a conglomeration of slanderous paragraphs about our horsemanship, our coach, the program, horse care, and multiple athletes…with 10 pages dedicated to me. To summarize, she called me a delinquent, a bad influence, and a liar, who didn’t deserve to ride. She said that I rode poorly at a previous meet because of the crushing guilt I felt. She claimed I only started because I was blonde, she said her daughter was a much better rider, and that I had no business being on the lineup, much less the team.
Administration launched an investigation into her claims, but even after they were proven false, she shouldered zero repercussions, and the victims of her libel received zero support. Her words were a gross reimagining of reality, but her manifesto was just the beginning of a crushing new reality for me. Lack of intervention and support from leadership allowed more of the same outlandish accusations against me to continue. For the rest of the year, other teammates attacked my personal reputation with the hope of preventing me from competing. Rumors that I was “drunk while practicing and competing” or that I paid to earn my starting spot circulated. Teammates who I once considered friends avoided my eye contact in the weight room, spoke in hushed whispers around the barn, and didn’t sit next to me on the bus. In a group, my team, where I should have felt overwhelming support, companionship, and love, I felt helpless, defeated, and isolated.
I transferred the next fall. Though I left this team and my traumas behind, these experiences changed my life. I now know that it never mattered how much I practiced or how many points I won, because my happiness, fulfillment, and success was never a product of starting or not starting or a result of winning or losing, but rather a direct reflection of the women I was surrounded by. In some ways, I am grateful because without my past, I wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate the support I feel now. It is rare and special to find a group of women who authentically support one another, but it shouldn’t be.
I cannot claim to know everything about the complicated nature of female relationships or understand the intricacies of every individual team dynamic, but this is everything I wish I had known before joining a Division One Program.
Experiences like mine are far too common, and they often go unaddressed. The prevalence of relational aggression between women is a direct result of culture and habit. To protect female athletes moving forward, we must not only educate ourselves and our communities about the prevalence of relational aggression, but de-normalize these behaviors by constantly holding each other accountable.
When we hear the word “aggression” we may automatically think of a brawling fist fight. But this isn’t always the case. Both men and women experience and exhibit aggression, but female relational aggression is characterized by covert practices intended to exploit relationships and damage social stability. Culturally, young women are conditioned to behave in a way that appears polite and courteous. If and when women express their anger in direct ways, they are often labeled as hysterical, manic, or “bitchy. ” As a result, women learn through experience to suppress their emotions and in turn, funnel their aggression into more imperceptible forms of retaliation. Spreading rumors, gossiping, exclusion, and social manipulation – these relational aggression habits are learned and employed in a cycle of victimization. While men and women are both victimized by relational aggression, it is more frequently observed in female dynamics.
If our aggression habits can be learned, they can also be unlearned. When correcting our behaviors and cultivating positive female dynamics, the goal is not to eliminate stress or pretend conflict doesn’t exist. That is unrealistic. Rather, we must learn to redirect the ways we react to conflict, express our aggression, and respond to victimization.
The female athlete experience is not just a reflection of trophies, equal funding, fancy facilities, or proper media recognition. Women’s sports may never receive the equality and support it deserves from organizations. Rather than search for validation in our broader culture, concrete growth and positive female athletic experiences begins from within, specifically in how we treat one another. When we authentically challenge, support, and empower ourselves and our fellow female athletes, we will improve our teams, our own performance, and pave the road to success on and off of the field. When women authentically support one another, there is nothing we can not accomplish.
Sports naturally activates your amygdala and the production of adrenaline in your sympathetic nervous system. So in some ways, aggression is actually necessary to propel our performance on the field. The call for women to support other women doesn’t mean the end to aggression or the repression of conflict. But rather a chance to embrace our natural tendencies for aggression and in turn more effectively create balance between healthy expressions of aggression and detrimental relational aggression. Because relational aggression habits stem from oppression, by embracing healthy expressions of aggression and identifying our personal conflicts we can de-normalize relational aggression behaviors, provide a healthy outlet for conflict, and begin to cultivate positive personal dynamics in female sports.
Administrators and coaches play a huge role in establishing expectations and setting positive examples for female athletes. Transparency and trust from leadership is powerful and sets the tone for the entire athletic community. When we respect our young women, they feel respected and are more likely to respect one another. Athletes and parents can do their part by granting female athletes the appreciation, honesty, and celebration they deserve. Athletics should be a place of empowerment and growth for young women free from gossip, exclusion, slut-shaming, peer pressure, and slander. These behaviors are so normalized in our society, friend groups, and broader culture that we have become accustomed to experiencing them and exhibiting these behaviors upon other women. We have become blind to the catastrophic consequences of relational aggression, and it can be difficult to know what “women supporting women” even looks like. Correcting these habits takes time, persistence, and humility, but if we act together it will get easier. As soon as we recognize relational aggression patterns we can correct our own behaviors and inspire women around us to do the same. Relational aggression is fueled by social relationships and thus requires multiple participants for full operation. When just one person refuses to participate, others will follow.
Use the tips below to engender healthy expression, mutual support, and empowerment amongst female athletes in your sporting community:
Marcella Bee
Intern at #WeRideTogether