Ladies, this one is for you:

Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimized by Regina George.

Whether you get the movie reference or not, I’ll bet this sparkly pen I’m holding that you’ve got a “mean girl” or “sister” wound.

Sometimes it started as early as elementary school. Few of us made it through middle school, and certainly didn’t skate out of high school, without one. 

Girls can be VICIOUS, man. Downright cruel. 

Usually there was a ringleader, a Queen Bee, the predator, whose favor was inexplicably desired above all else. And she would hone in on her prey, with her pack following her lead. Far worse than any punch that could be thrown, she went for the throat. Quietly or loudly, but utterly destroying the target’s self worth and sense of belonging. 

At its core, it’s a transference of powerlessness. The Queen Bee felt powerless at home, so transferred her pain onto someone else (her prey). Then the prey would occasionally find a weaker target and lash out, in an unconscious attempt to regain her own power. Woe be to those of us who have been prey. And woe be to those of us who were, at times, equally the predator. I was both in my young life. 

And being attacked by, and attacking, one of “our own” is a unique pain that leaves a gash in our hearts and shatters our sense of safety in friendship.

And it can make it hard to trust other women. 

Instead, we can find ourselves in shallow, performant “friendships” that are united by little else but booze and gossip, secretly wondering if we’re being whispered about with judgment and malice when we’re not in the room. 

Yet we long for real sisterhood, all while our experiences tell us it’s dangerous, not to be trusted, and equally that we have no idea how and where to find it.

Still, we yearn for it. 

We know we need it. 

We know the true power in it. 

There is a visceral need inside of us to unite with the feminine essence, both our own primal feminine as well as the power of a tribal circle of sisters. 

The “sister wound” is not one to be healed in solitude. 

It is healed by being surrounded by women who can hold you, in truly safe and loving space. 

A space where you can bring into the light the hurt and the pain you’ve swallowed over the years.

Where you can sit in the tender ache of baring what you’ve held within for so long, while another woman gives you her full presence, her unconditional love and compassion, saying “I see you, I love you, and I’m here”.

This is how we heal the sister wound. 

This is how we stop competing and start rising into the divine feminine leaders we were born to be.

As women, when one of us rises, we all rise. 

When we rise together, we are even stronger.

And we lift each other up as we rise, we are fucking unstoppable.

The world needs us.

Sparkle On…

P.S. Ready for this level of sisterhood and power? Message me for dates of my next retreat!