At last weekend’s show, a friend came along to cheer.
Picture it this way. On one side, a woman I had ridden with back when Hector was a pup. Our world had been hunters, eventing, dressage, and jumpers. We had swapped horses, gone on roadtrips, and fencejudged together. On the other side, a crowd of saddleseat riders most of whom I had know less than six months. Me in the middle introducing everyone while suffering clashing senses of deja vu and discontinuity.
I need not have worried. Within minutes, my old friend was in amongst my new friends swapping war stories and helping groom the horses. Her experience with stage makeup came in handy when it was time to doll up the riders.
In the ring, we may jump, rack, or slide. Back at the barn, horsefolks is horsefolks.
What happened when your worlds collided?
(If the O.F. or any of the N.F.s would care to out themselves in the comments, I’d be interested in their perspectives.)
Virtual Brush Box 
O.F. says that presentation of cinnamon rolls didn’t hurt. And horsefolk are horsefolk whatever the style – when you have something that deep in common, doesn’t matter what the tack.