Sister, sister
The power of sisterhood (+ a special retreat invitation!)
Resol Review is a weekly newsletter that looks at integrative health, mindfulness, self-healing, and the oft-wild world of wellness. It is written by Charlotte H, a board-certified nurse practitioner, holistic health coach, writer, and retreat facilitator - who, if we’re being honest, sometimes wonders what the hell we’re doing in the siloed Western medical system as it currently exists. Learn more about Charlotte and her integrative coaching biz, Resol Health.
Much of my childhood was spent desperately wishing for one thing - a sister.
(From this point forward, every time I say the word “sister”, I’d like you to imagine it in a Hocus Pocus voice. Ok? Ok.)
I grew up with parents who got divorced when I was quite young; on my dad’s side, I was an only child, and remained so my entire childhood.
On my mom’s side, I had a brother who was six years younger. We’re close now in adulthood - he is unequivocally the best human - but as a young’n, those six years felt like a lifetime apart. So often it felt like I was an only child there, too.
Above all my other prayers and wishes at night, I always wished I had a sister close in age to hang out with. I had immense jealousy of families of sisters - those with built in best friends and confidantes.
In middle school, I reeled from a series of painful assaults on my personal life. My dad was in NYC the day the Twin Towers fell - the feeling of my nervous system flooding with pure terror when I couldn’t contact him still lives rent-free in my body. Months later, he was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. There was an undercurrent of addiction and unhappiness at home. I was pretty depressed and anxious.
In a bid for control, I developed an obsession with my food intake. I recall myself and a girlfriend going on a cabbage soup diet to lose weight because we thought we were “cows”. We were 12.
Shortly after this, I learned that picking at my skin and pulling out my hair provided temporary relief from wanting to crawl out of my skin. At the time, I didn’t know this was called trichotillomania, or that it was a pretty normal trauma response, or that it was linked to OCD. I just knew that it made me feel better in the moment.
I picked my skin to the point that it bled and scarred. My eyebrows? Gone with the wind. I counted every calorie, ate nothing but cabbage soup, and pulled out a patch of normally-straight hair above my ear, that grew back - I kid you not - in a perfect ringlet that looked akin to a one-sided Jewish side curl.
But in the midst of the chaos and anxiety and attempts at control, in eighth grade, the Universe did me a solid.
I met two, new best friends.
G and I met at a choir/orchestra concert when I told her I liked her (very cool, knee-high leather) boots. Slowly, a friendship blossomed.
I met J around the same time; the details are extremely blurry, likely a product of our little nervous systems stuck in fight-or-flight at the time. It’s hard to remember a lot of 8th grade. But J and I were neighbors, and quickly became inseparable.
We rode our bikes to and from each others’ houses. Shared stories about where we came from and where we wanted to go. Talked about boys (a lot).
We went to the eighth grade dance together. I remember feeling like, for the first time, I had a real crew of sister-friends.
G, J and I stumbled through high school. It was not an easy time for any of us. I have many stories about that time, some of which are fit for future newsletter consumption, some of which are unequivocally not.
We went through so much as little ones…scared, scarred, stumbling, brash, sometimes acting like complete idiots, often wise beyond our years for having to grow up too fast.
But through the fire, and the struggle,
Eventually it started to feel like I had real, true sisters to get through life with.
And through it all, having G and J in my life has made even the darkest moments bearable. My closest sister-friends are a huge reason to why I’m here (and still alive)…and why I’m so passionate about the importance of community.
When my close friends and I were lost in a dark and stormy sea of trauma or grief, our sisterhood was there to remind us that we weren’t alone. When you’re scared and impressionable, this means more than…well, pretty much anything.
When we messed up, or caused hurt, or pain - sisterhood was there to gently remind us that we not only could do better, but it was our responsibility to do so.
When we celebrated our wins, sisterhood was there with a bottle of champagne, or at the wedding, or graduation, or standing at the finish line of the race with a funny sign to cheer us on.
When we stumbled, sisterhood was there to help us land into the next step of our journey with a little more grace, some empathy, and maybe a few laughs.
As we’ve grown, our healing journeys have weaved together, then apart, then back together. We’ve each processed our past a little differently. I tend to make [off color] jokes about my trauma. It’s my way of healing - a tool in my toolkit, so to speak - to find humor in the darkness.
But these friendships…and those of others I call sisters…are relationships that have helped shape me into the person I want to become. They are the reason I’ve grown, and healed, and turned into someone I’m proud of.
And to be held in your most authentic expression with those who feel like sisters - it is truly one of life’s greatest gifts.
If you’re looking to be held in a non-judgmental, safe space with fellow sisters…
☀️ On June 21-24, myself and Callie David would love for you to join us at Untethered Radiance 2.0: a three-day retreat focused on sisterhood and self-healing.
We’re running back the OG, 5-star reviewed women’s retreat on a gorgeous, serene 125-acre farm with onsite hiking trails, lakes, and more. Retreat offerings will include amazing breath work by Callie, cacao ceremonies, nature immersion, cold plunges, yoga, a safe space to connect with like-minded women, and more.
All-inclusive prices start at $1400 for a shared room and are tiered from there. A 30% deposit is required to hold your spot, but payment plans are available.
If you’re interested, let me know. We’d love to have you join us.
That’s all for this week. In love, stewardship, and building community -
Charlotte