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More Than Just Muscle: Being a Woman in Farriery

Date: 08-05-2026

If you’d asked me early on what it meant to be a woman in farriery, I probably would have said, quite adamantly, “the same thing that it means to be a man in farriery.”

The job needed doing, and I was there to do it.

That’s still true—but it’s not the whole story.

Because whether you acknowledge it or not, being female in this trade does shape your experience. Not always in obvious ways, and not always negatively—but it’s there in the background, influencing how you’re seen, how you work, and how you find your place in it.

First Impressions: Before You Even Pick Up a Tool

When Jason and I first started working side by side, there was often an assumption built in before we’d even begun.

Sometimes it’s subtle—a second glance. Sometimes it’s not so subtle.

I’d turn up with him and, even after an introduction, people would assume I was there on work experience, or that I was his apprentice. It didn’t seem to matter that I had my own business, my own clients (and more qualifications!), and was there to do the same job—just that initial expectation.

I’ve had people ask me what I do for work while I’m halfway through shoeing their horse. As if what they’re watching is more of a hobby than a profession.

It’s rarely meant badly. Most of the time it’s just habit, or assumption. But it does make you aware of how the role is perceived. Truthfully, I’ve probably made similar assumptions about other trades without even realising.

You learn not to take it personally. You just carry on, finish the job, and let the work answer the question for you.

Finding Your Place in the Trade

Farriery can be a tough environment. It always has been.

It’s physical, it’s practical, and it doesn’t leave much room for ego once you’re actually doing the job.

Although, on reflection, a few people have proved that it does.

Getting there wasn’t straightforward. I sent out 176 letters looking for an apprenticeship.

So, if you were one of the people who received one—sorry. I realise you probably don’t feel quite as personally chosen as I made out!

But that’s what it took. Not talent on its own, not luck—just persistence, and a refusal to let someone else decide what I was capable of.

Before I began my apprenticeship, I was told outright that I wouldn’t be able to swing a hammer properly—so there wasn’t much point taking me on.

(Jason may still argue I don’t know how to swing a hammer properly—but I’m writing this piece, not Jason… so we’ll leave that there.)

At the time, you either take that on board or you decide it’s not going to be your problem.

A few years later, I went on to be the first female to get onto the England apprentice team—after winning the team trials. Which, in hindsight, feels like a fairly solid response.

Despite our profession being rooted deeply in tradition and history, I’ve felt overwhelmingly supported by the entire farriery community - aside from that one moment.  People have freely given their time, knowledge, and support whenever I’ve asked for it—and that’s something I don’t take for granted.

Strength: The Obvious Question

It’s probably the most common assumption—that the job is all strength, and that being female automatically puts you at a disadvantage.

But I weigh more than Jason does, and nobody’s questioning how he manages—even though he doesn’t exactly look like a back-row rugby player.

There’s no point pretending strength doesn’t matter. But farriery isn’t just about brute force—it’s about timing, positioning, feel, and efficiency.

Learning how to work with the horse, rather than against it, becomes far more important than how much you can physically muscle through.

In some ways, that actually shapes better habits early on. You can’t rely on forcing things, so you learn to do things properly.

And that tends to stay with you.

Horses Don’t Care

One of the more reassuring parts of the job is that horses don’t have opinions about gender.

They respond to how you handle them—your timing, your consistency, your awareness.

If anything, being more aware of positioning and behaviour—because you have to be—often leads to quieter, more considered handling.

The horse doesn’t care who you are. It cares how you work.

The Advantages You Don’t Expect

It’s not all challenge.

There are definite strengths that come with approaching the job differently—attention to detail, communication with clients, reading situations more carefully, and knowing when to push and when to step back.

Clients notice that. Horses respond to that.

And over time, those things become part of your reputation.

That doesn’t mean you should accept being pigeonholed into only dealing with difficult or “naughty” horses—but it does highlight that there are different strengths within the job.

Balancing the Job with Life

Farriery doesn’t naturally lend itself to flexibility. Well—it does, and it doesn’t.

You can be your own boss, but long days, physical demands, and travel don’t leave much room around it. And that becomes more relevant as life changes.

For me, that’s become especially clear since having children.

The job hasn’t changed—but the way I approach it has. You become more aware of your time, your energy, and what’s actually sustainable long term.

There’s less room for pushing through just for the sake of it. You work smarter, plan better, and make decisions that allow you to keep doing the job well without running yourself into the ground.

If anything, it’s made me more efficient, more focused, and probably a bit more pragmatic.

It’s not about doing less—it’s about doing it better.

There are also the slightly less glamorous realities—like working out where you’re going to sneak off for a wee when there isn’t a toilet in sight and then afterwards, PRAYING the camera wasn’t switched on in the foaling box. It’s definitely harder to be subtle about it as a woman!

It’s Still Just Farriery

At the end of the day, the job doesn’t change.

Feet still need trimming. Shoes still need fitting. Horses still need looking after properly.

Being female might shape how you get there—but it doesn’t change the standard you’re working to.

And that’s probably the most important part.

Looking Ahead

The trade is changing, slowly.

There are more women coming into farriery now than there were before, and that can only be a good thing. Different approaches, different strengths, and a broader understanding of what the job requires.

It’s not about proving anything anymore. It’s about doing the job well, building a solid reputation, and making the work sustainable long term.

Because once you’re under the horse, none of that other stuff really matters, just the work.

And every woman knows that if you can’t fix it with a hammer, you can probably fix it with a hair bobble—and we’ve usually got a pocket full of those.