About Me
I’m Amy Lyn Jones, a bronze and silver medal dressage rider and trainer but my path to get here is not the usual one you read about. For starters, about seven years ago, having ridden, studied and trained my whole life but never really shown before, I decided to get my USDF Medals. Despite being told from my mentors at the time, “it does not work that way”, I went out and got all my scores for my Silver medal in two weekends. My Bronze medal would follow. I did it backwards. You see, I have always been an outlier.
My equestrian education has been anything but typical. What is typical is that I, like many of you, had a love for horses from early childhood. While I have had a formal education at equestrian academy Meredith Manor and a great deal of training with high-level, high-profile trainers in jumpers and eventing as well as in the classical principles of dressage, I have also ridden with a brilliant cowboy in Hawaii, performed with the Arabian Knights Dinner Theater, toured North America with The World Famous Lipizzaner Show, and other non-traditional educational experiences. I have seen a lot. All of these experiences, of course, taught me something. Many of them were life changing, amazing periods of learning and connecting and I met some truly gifted horsemen. Often though the experiences were negative, even abusive, leaving me feeling unseen and unheard, doubting my own instincts and intuition and as always, feeling like an outlier.
Something felt missing and not just for me. Over the years I witnessed (we have all witnessed or experienced) trainers teach the same lesson week after week and year after year with little to no progress towards goals. We have watched horses behave like saints through unfair demands from riders and trainers all the while knowing they could be happier and do better if someone would just stop and listen to what they were saying.
We have seen horses completely inappropriate for a rider or a specific discipline shut down, be over faced and struggle in the relationship with the humans only to be labeled difficult and sold off through the inevitable creative sales ad written to offload the “bad” horse. We have seen adult amateurs with a horse they love being told the horse is not right or good enough but the adult amateur can go with their trainer to Europe and spend boatloads on THE ONE that will get them THERE. We all come into this sport through a deep love for the horses. Somewhere along the way however the journey so often becomes frustrating or seems to fall short.
After years of exploring numerous avenues and pushing through various setbacks, resets, and gut-wrenching losses that finally gave me the time and clarity to find trust in my own voice and decades of experience, I am all in. Through the love and support of friends that have also been clients and who were always advocating for me to step forward and use my voice, I am at the table. For years I have known my niche was to help clients and horses become the best version of themselves, whatever their goals, means, level or quality of horse. I finally have the time, place, space and opportunity to do so.
A Squared Equestrian is the realization of my personal journey. A haven for the horse and human alike, A Squared is a beautiful setting for multi-disciplinary training, a platform for clinics and educational opportunities, a perfect spot to trailer-in for field trips in prep for bigger more electric environments in the presence of supportive horse people who put collaboration first. It is a place where all opinions can be expressed respectfully and conversations can be had, where egos can be set aside and vulnerabilities explored, where instinct and intuition are valued equally with science, logic and reason. A Squared is a place where every little detail is noticed and given credit, where the wellbeing of the horse and the advocacy for their happiness is at the center, where the quiet voice of the horse is heard and respected.
Because my earliest memories are of horses. I grew up in suburban Cincinnati with no riders in the family and no horses around. But on the way to preschool there was a horse farm on the left-hand side and I might catch a glimpse of a horse. The energetic relief I got just seeing the horses came years before I had any opportunities to be around them let alone ride.
I can still recall the feeling of gripping the vinyl burgundy handle in the back seat of the car and pulling myself up to the window to get the best and longest opportunity to view the brown horses grazing in the field. If they were not in the field, I could almost imagine they were. Hours long drives to my grandparents’ house through rural Ohio and West Virginia were spent staring at hay fields and imagine I was riding. Any fence, gate or picnic table was a jump I could envision myself soaring over.
Before I began my weekly Saturday morning lessons, I had every Breyer model and My Little Pony I could acquire. I imagined I had horses that lived under our raised deck. I would draw stall boundaries in the mulch and get irritated with my older brother would disrupt my well thought out “barn”.
Whether I was imagining a horse in the field, caring for an imaginary horse in my yard or wrapping the legs of my Breyer models with Barbies tights, I felt a sense of space. There was room between me and everyone else in the world. This was freedom.
I owned a saddle long before I had a horse and the feeling of carrying the saddle on my arm transported to the horses. That freedom, that space, is a lifeline for me (and probably for you, too.) Within that shared space with the horse my nervous system can be regulated. As a result, my emotions are easier to manage, focus on daily tasks is easier, my productivity is higher, my effectiveness is sharper, stress is navigable and consequently relationships improve. These benefits of being with the horses do not just matter, there are essential to having the life I want to live.
When I am not home on my farm with my husband Andrew tending to our personal horses, dog and five cats I travel to teach students of varied disciplines, helping other fellow horse lovers navigate the most cohesive path towards their goals. As close as NewYork and as far away as India, but the issues we face with our horses is always the same and connecting with humans around the world brings me endless joy. While you often hear people say “I don’t like people.” I feel differently, I love people. I seek out opportunities to talk to strangers and reaffirm that we all have the same basic needs; to feel safe, to be heard and to connect.
From my first international adventure to Russia at the age of 18 to my most recent trip to Chennai, India in April 2024, I am always game for a new immersive cultural experience. There is a natural flow between what the horses offer my soul and what connecting to fellow humans yields. I am able to be the kindest, most loving, generous version of myself.
I am an outlier and that is a good thing. This is my place. This is me.