18/06/2026
One of the conversations that came up on the retreat was about rest.
Not sleep.
Not collapsing on the sofa at the end of the day.
A different kind of rest.
The kind where nobody needs anything from you.
You’re not organising uniforms, packed lunches, shopping for your parents, meal plans, lifts, WhatsApps and weekend logistics.
You’re not hearing:
“Muuuuum, I need…”
🖤 Black socks
💜 A purple wig
✏️ A clear pencil case
🧥 My favourite jumper (even though it’s the only one that’s not clean)
You’re not helping with revision or navigating teen angst at 9.27pm.
You’re not holding ALL OF IT together.
Just space…
To be.
For so many women, wine becomes the thing that signals rest.
The ritual of pouring a glass that says:
“You’ve done enough now.”
But what if what we’re really craving isn’t a drink?
What if we’re craving permission?
Permission to stop.
Permission to breathe.
Permission to put ourselves on the list too.
That conversation stayed with me all weekend 💖