Maybe i needed the test

This year, I promised myself that no matter how many people signed up for the retreat I was hosting, I was going to do it. Even if it was just me there.

Maybe I needed that test.

2025 didn’t leave me much time or space to create, host, or give anything extra. I was stretched to the max. I guess that’s why I needed this season of slow. Funny how I keep finding my way back to that.

Anyway, I advertised for the last six months, sent reminders, printed posters, and texted every friend who had ever said they needed a break. And still, I didn’t sell out the retreat.

So what?

In the end, I had six women who needed it, and I wanted to provide that space for them. By the actual date of the retreat, there were four remaining.

I picked one of the best spots in North Carolina: the Outer Banks. A beautiful backdrop for a much-needed rest and reset. A storm came through and created a very real opportunity to rest because we couldn’t leave the house. But it also presented me with a test I wasn’t sure I could handle.

Every year, there seems to be someone who shows up and has no idea what they actually signed up for.

I’ve crafted these retreats in my own image, in a way. My very first one was in 2008. It was only for friends, really more of a friend getaway, but it sparked something in me. I remember thinking, Everyone needs this.

I took several years off after struggling to fill spots and moving around, but in 2018, I tried again, and 14 women signed up.

This year, I found myself in a house with four.

At first, I felt like I had failed. I couldn’t sell 10 spots. I couldn’t convince 10 women that I could create a safe, inspiring space where they could let their literal and figurative hair down. A space where they could be “ugly” without the name-brand outfits, job titles, and age discussions.

See, at my retreats, we don’t talk about what you do for a living because, honestly, who cares? I don’t ask people to announce their age, talk about their kids, or introduce themselves through the usual labels we love to slap on people.

Instead, I ask you to find the person you want to be that weekend.

Which brings me to the test.

This year, I was challenged by someone who seemed content to live entirely within the labels she already knew. There was little willingness to explore beyond the things she had always been told about herself.

It was hard trying to help someone see something in themselves that I could see, but they couldn’t—or perhaps simply weren’t ready to see.

It made me work harder to communicate that we can break out of the little boxes we sometimes build around ourselves.

I create daily games, questions, and activities designed to do just that. But this particular participant would either choose not to participate or return to the same few labels whenever she did.

And I kept asking myself, Why would anyone want to be one-dimensional?

Then I started thinking about how difficult it can be to explain to a flower why it might be important to remember that it was once a seed.

We all start somewhere. Somewhere small. And as we experience life, we branch out, stretch our perspectives, and begin to develop into something more.

But some people never venture much farther than what feels safe. And comfort can become a trap, a labeled box we don't know how to step outside of.

All weekend, I was being tested. I was being asked to try another way.

I had grown accustomed to participants who could process things the way I did. But this woman needed something different, something I wasn’t sure I knew how to create.

For the first time in years, I took a break in my own room. I needed to breathe, meditate, and reflect.

See, I create the experience, so the retreat is also work for me. But this time, I needed the alone time to figure out how to relate to someone whose experience was so different from my own.

The silent day was what really set things off. I realized that not everyone is comfortable being alone with themselves in silence. For some, it can bring up fear and panic, and those are the last two feelings I ever want to create for my guests.

But that’s exactly what I had done. I had created an experience that brought those feelings to the surface, and I had served it up on a silver platter.

For the first time, I had someone who genuinely struggled with the experience I had designed. I felt she wasn’t fully participating in the way I had hoped, and I struggled with what to do with that.

By the end of day three, I went to bed feeling defeated.

It wasn’t until I closed out the weekend, returned home to my family, and slept in my own bed that I finally understood.

The test wasn’t for her. It was for me.

I keep asking the universe to allow me to be myself and make money doing it. To create retreats and events that help women heal, reset, and feel reassured that it’s okay to be who they are.

And that’s exactly what she was doing.

Being herself.

Who was I to ask her to go deeper, feel something she couldn’t feel, or explore something she simply might not have wanted to explore?

The lesson was that everyone is different. What I consider exploration, someone else might experience as exploitation. What feels freeing to me might feel uncomfortable to someone else.

I wanted what I wanted, rather than making room for what she needed.

The next morning, I had a conversation with my ego.

You did that.

I also apologized to myself for being so hard on the experience. Then I reached out to one of the women who had attended to check in.

Before I could even get a word out, she started telling me how much she loved the retreat. How it had given her so much to think about once she got home. How being a stranger among new people had opened her up to trying more new things.

And as I listened, I thought to myself, You silly girl. You let your ego take the lead when you had already created exactly what you hoped to create.

After I hung up the phone, I decided to journal about it.

And now, you’re reading it.

The retreat has always been about finding a new way to check in with yourself, step away from distractions, and make room for something different.

But now I realize that sometimes, the distraction is the lesson.

Sometimes, the person who challenges your process is the very person who teaches you something about yourself.

Sometimes, the experience that doesn't go according to plan is the one that asks you to grow the most.

And sometimes, the test isn't about proving that you can lead someone else somewhere new. It's about recognizing when you need to let go of the idea that you know where they should go in the first place.

I am genuinely grateful every single time someone shows up for anything I create or host. Every time someone trusts me enough to spend their time, energy, and money on an experience I’ve put together, I don't take that lightly.

But this year, that little group meant the world to me.

They reminded me why I do this. They reminded me that I’m still learning, too. And they reminded me that creating a space for women to be themselves also means allowing them to show up in ways I may not understand.

So, thank you, ladies.

Even if you never read this, please know how grateful I am that you showed up.

And thank you, Universe, for the reminder that I can create the space, set the intention, and offer the invitation.

But I don’t get to decide what someone else does with it.

Maybe I needed the test after all.