The Testimony of a Noseband Measuring Device

​I only wanted to be a measuring tool. Now I’m a piece of gym equipment.

​I had a modest goal in life: I just wanted to slide smoothly underneath a noseband. A quick "hello," a polite check to ensure there’s actually some room, and then done. My résumé is impeccable: I am the official FEI Noseband Measuring Device, the very embodiment of transparency in modern dressage. But what I’ve had to endure lately at horse shows in 2026 has very little to do with my original job description.

​According to my official manual, I am designed to "glide with minimal resistance to verify adequate spacing." But in reality, I am forced to play the role of a heavy-duty crowbar in a budget gym.

​No sooner do I approach a noseband than the great tug-of-war begins. There is pushing, pulling, and straining, as if someone were trying to set a world record in a resistance competition. I am forced into gaps that don't actually exist, while all around me a feat of strength is celebrated. Between the stewards and the grooms, the collective bicep pump is achieving significantly more than the rules would ever require.

​And the gaslighting is the worst part. Lately, I’ve started to wonder if I’m being subjected to some sort of ‘measuring tool bodyshaming.’ Whenever I get stuck - which is only because the gap is narrower than the laws of physics should allow - I get the feeling that people are judging me. As if I’m the one who is too ‘bulky,’ too ‘thick,’ or just not ‘streamlined’ enough for the job. They look at me with such disappointment, as if my dimensions are the problem, not the fact that the noseband is essentially a tourniquet.

​By the way, I feel like I have more muscle soreness in my synthetic fibers than the horse I’m actually supposed to be protecting.

​By the time the sun sets over at a horse show, I am completely exhausted. You might think a simple measuring tool doesn't have feelings, but you’d be wrong. I’ve been squeezed, and shoved through spaces that were never meant for me. I’m covered in sweat, dust and worn down by the sheer force of people who think that "transparency" means forcing a square peg into a round hole - or rather, a piece of plastic into a non-existent gap.

​I’m heading back to the equipment case now, limping, and everything hurts. I will be dreaming of a nice, loose leather strap. But I know it won’t last. Tomorrow is another day, and I’m sure there’s another steward out there waiting to give me a "workout" I never asked for. If this is what it means to protect the horse’s welfare, I think I’d rather just be a simple ruler than an FEI Noseband Measuring Device. At least then, no one would try to pull me through a brick wall.