24/03/2026
SheWolf feels like coming home.
It feels like how life is supposed to feel. Women working together to make things happen without expecting anything in return. A community of women loving each other and getting on with it.
This weekend was fire. And fire in our work holds so many meanings. Transfiguration. Power. Creativity. Passion. Pleasure. Burning through the things that have been holding you back. This weekend we teach women how to say no. How to stop saying yes to everything and everyone out of fear. How to put themselves first. How to light their own spark. Because we can help women find that spark but we cannot keep their fire burning for them. We have our own fires to tend.
And all of our fires look different.
Some are huge and bright. Some are a phoenix rising. Some are being reborn from ash. Mine is small. Quiet. Contained. For a long time I thought that meant I didn't have one. This weekend I realised I do. It's just a safe fire. And maybe that's exactly what it's supposed to be, because I am a safe space for these women, and that has to come from somewhere.
Delphi. I don't have the words for what it means to do this work with you. You started as my business partner and somewhere along the way you became one of my closest friends, and I don't say that easily because connection doesn't come naturally to me. You burn bright. You are fierce and loud and powerful. And you are also soft and vulnerable and deeply human. We always say I am the She and you are the Wolf. This weekend reminded me we are both. We have always been both. I am so proud of you for the work you have done on yourself this past year. For recognising where you needed to draw lines, where you needed to say no, and for actually doing it. You keep doing it. I see it and I honour it.
To every woman who trusted us with their weekend, thank you. I will never stop being in awe of your courage. I will never stop being proud of what you do when you're given a safe space to do it. And I will never stop devoting my life to this work. To you.
I walked across hot coals this weekend without a scratch.
The Aga got me again.
And honestly I think that's the lesson. When I'm in it, when I'm present, when I'm holding space, nothing burns me. It's only when my guard comes down in the ordinary moments that I get caught. Something to think about.