ABOUT LOU
A Woman Who Came Home, to Herself
Lou Capp is a living story of returning home—to the land, to the horses, and to herself.
As a teenager on the train from Bairnsdale to boarding school in Melbourne, she would watch the hills of West Gippsland blur past the window, imagining her horse galloping alongside. She didn’t know it then, but she was dreaming her future into being. Decades later, that vision would become her everyday life.
That future called her back with unmistakable clarity. It wasn’t logic that brought her to Neerim South—it was knowing. A deep, full-body yes that told her she was meant to be here. And so she listened.
From Burnout to Bareback
Lou’s journey hasn’t followed a straight line. After school, she trained as a nurse and spent a decade in intensive care, holding space in high-pressure, life-and-death moments. Later, she transitioned into a corporate career, selling advanced medical equipment in the hospital system. To the outside world, it looked successful. But something was missing.
The horses had never left her. Even when she couldn’t ride, she dreamt of one day looking out the window and seeing them in the paddock. That quiet longing pulled her forward.
Lou began to realise something she’d never put into words: she had been using horses for therapy her entire life. As a teenager, after being bullied at school, it was the horses who helped her feel safe, seen, and grounded. It wasn’t about riding—it was about being. About feeling held by something bigger, wiser, and entirely non-judgmental.
A Bold Leap of Faith
In June 2023, Lou attended an equine therapy intro day. As soon as she stepped onto the property, she felt it again—that same knowing. Everything clicked. The corporate roles, the burnout, the breakthroughs—they had all led her to this.
And so, Lillico Nurture was born.
It started slowly. A few practice sessions, a sign on the gate, a simple Instagram page. But its essence had been growing in her for years. Lou wasn’t just starting a business—she was creating a sanctuary. A space for people like her: burnt out, overwhelmed, or quietly yearning for something softer.
Healing That Doesn’t Follow a Script
Lou doesn’t offer therapy in the traditional sense. She doesn’t wear the title as proof. Her life is her training—the real kind. The raw kind. ICU nursing. Corporate pressure. The breakdowns. The breakthroughs. The horses.
She’s completed formal studies too: a three-week immersion in GESTALT therapy, equine-assisted learning, supervised sessions, and more. But she’ll be the first to say: it’s not the certifications that create change. It’s presence. Intuition. Trust.
Every session at Lillico Nurture is different. Nothing is forced. Nothing is scripted. Lou follows what’s true in the moment—because she knows that’s where the magic happens.
A Vision for Elders
One of Lou’s most tender dreams is to bring horses to the elderly.
In rural communities like Gippsland, many older people grew up around animals. But in aged care, those connections are often lost. Lou wants to change that. Not as a business idea—but as a soul promise. Even a brief encounter with a horse can bring someone back to themselves: their memories, their essence, their sense of being loved and seen.
Because horses don’t just show up—they remember. They reflect who we truly are beneath the layers.

For Those Who Need to Remember
Lou created Lillico Nurture for the ones who’ve been holding it all together for too long. Especially the women in corporate spaces who’ve forgotten how to breathe. The mothers, the caregivers, the professionals. The ones who need space—not to perform, but to feel.
She’s walked that path. She knows the cost. And she knows the way back.
What felt impossible on Friday might feel entirely doable by Monday. Because Lillico isn’t just a place to retreat. It’s a place to return—to your body, your breath, your self.
This Is Just the Beginning
Lillico Nurture officially launched in September 2024. But the roots run deep. This isn’t a formula. It’s a feeling. A knowing. A place where horses lead, nature holds, and people come home to themselves.
Lou’s story is still unfolding—but the invitation is already here.
Come as you are. The horses are waiting.