There is something that happens when women gather in an open-hearted space.
You can feel it before a single word is spoken.
A gentle opening.
A recognition that it’s safe to exhale.
A quiet knowing that says, “Ah… I am not alone.”
Last weekend, I had the honor of speaking at the (Re)Claim Retreat hosted by Juliana Fox—a multi-generational gathering of women, each of us carrying our own stories, our own wounds, our own quiet hopes for healing. (If you’re curious about future gatherings, you can explore their space here: https://linktr.ee/re_claim)
As I stood in front of the room and shared pieces of my journey—much of which I’ve written about in My Journey to Self-Love—I watched heads nod around the room.
Not just in agreement with me—but in recognition of themselves in the words I was sharing.
Afterward, many came to me and said, in their own words, “I’ve lived something like that, too.”
And that is when it became unmistakably clear:
Our stories may be uniquely ours, but the emotional landscape we walk through as women is often achingly familiar.
The Threads That Bind Us
Over the course of that weekend, women spoke openly of their lives.
Of divorce and the unraveling of identities.
Of burnout from trying to be everything to everyone.
Of health declining while self-care quietly slipped to the bottom of the list.
Of sexual trauma and the long, complicated path of healing.
Of numbing the pain with substances just to make it through another day.
Different stories.
Different lives.
And yet… the same ache beneath it all.
The same longing to feel whole again.
The Piece I Didn’t Realize Was Missing
For much of the past six and a half years since my Dark Night of the Soul, I walked my healing path largely alone. And in many ways, that solitude was necessary.
It gave me space to hear my own voice again.
To rebuild myself without external noise and distraction.
To learn how to hold myself through the hardest moments.
I wrote. I reflected. I healed.
And yet, what this retreat revealed to me is that while solitude can initiate healing, it’s not always where healing completes itself. I didn’t fully realize until I shared space with all of those beautiful women that something essential had been missing.
Sisterhood.
Not casual connection. Not surface-level conversation. But the kind of presence that allows another woman to witness you at the soul level without you needing to explain yourself.
The Healing Power of Being Seen
There is a particular kind of healing that happens when a woman shares her truth…
and another woman meets her there with presence instead of judgment.
When another woman can say, “Yes, I know that feeling” or “I see you just as you are,” something inside us begins to shift. The parts of ourselves we may have hidden—out of shame, confusion, or fear of being misunderstood—start to come forward more gently.
We begin to trust that we are not alone in our experiences.
And in that shared space, healing deepens in a way that is difficult to access in isolation.
Why Sisterhood Matters
Let’s be honest in a way that feels grounded and true:
There are aspects of the female experience that only other women fully understand.
Not because the men in our lives don’t care.
Not because our partners don’t try.
There’s a kind of understanding that can only come from having lived through similar emotional terrain.
When we find ourselves in the presence of women who are also doing the work of healing—who are asking hard questions, setting boundaries, and learning to come home to themselves—we are reminded that growth is not only possible, but fulfilling and beautiful when shared.
It shifts something fundamental. We move from feeling like we are navigating life alone to realizing we are part of something ancient and ancestral—a sisterhood that was always meant to connect us.
Finding Your “Woo Crew”
One of the most meaningful connections in my own life began in a very modern way.
I met my friend Sarah on Bumble BFF. From the very beginning, there was an openness in our relationship—a willingness to discuss healing, spirituality, and self-discovery without hesitation or apology. Her curiosity and joy as she spoke of her own exploration gave me permission to deepen into my own journey.
She later jokingly referred to the kind of women we were becoming as a “Woo Crew.”
Women who are willing to look inward.
To question old patterns.
To explore new ways of being.
To support one another on our paths.
And what I’ve come to realize is this:
Finding women on a similar path is not as difficult as we think.
Sometimes it begins with simply saying,
“This is what I’m looking for.”
If You’ve Been Walking Alone
If your healing has been largely solitary, as mine has been, there is nothing lacking in that. Solitude can be a sacred and necessary space for vital rebuilding.
But there may come a time—subtle, almost whisper-like—when your healing asks for something more. Not instead of solitude. But alongside it.
If you feel that quiet nudge, here are a few ways to honor it:
- Reach out to one woman you feel safe with and share something real
- Explore spaces like Bumble BFF where women can make clear that they’re looking for others on healing journeys
- Attend a retreat or gathering where vulnerability is welcomed
- Join or create a small circle centered on growth and healing
- Say yes to connection—even if it feels slightly uncomfortable at first
You don’t need a large group.
Sometimes just one or two aligned women can change everything.
When Women Heal Together
What I witnessed at the retreat was not just individual healing, but collective transformation in motion. As women shared, listened, and held space for one another, somethings began to dissolve—judgement and competition—two things that can be incredibly pervasive in relationships shared by women.
In its place was connection.
And from that connection came a deeper sense of permission—to be fully ourselves, to honor our experiences, and to continue the work of becoming whole.
This is why sisterhood matters.
Not as a trend or a concept, but as a lived experience of being seen, supported, and understood.
A Gentle Question to Carry Forward
As you move through your week, I invite you to sit with this question:
Where might I be ready to be seen—and to see another woman in return?
There is no urgency in answering it. Just a quiet openness.
Because often, the next step in healing doesn’t arrive as a grand moment.
It arrives as a conversation.
A shared experience.
A hand extended—and a hand received.
