Healing the Wounds We Don’t Talk About

Because when one heals, we all heal.

When I was just shy of fourteen, my father died.

It had been a long illness. He was diagnosed with a brain tumor when I was nine and was given six months — but he lived four years.

The day of his funeral, I was told, “Don’t cry. Your father wouldn’t want you to cry.” No space was given for me to grieve, emote, or even begin to process the complicated emotions of losing a parent.

Not only had I lost my father, but it was layered inside a messy framework of divorce and a mother still angry and resentful that my father had left her for another woman.

There was a lot of emotion bubbling beneath the surface. But I was told to stifle it. Not only by the well-meaning person who told me not to cry, but by the unspoken family rule that my emotions were not welcomed or needed. I was that "sensitive child".

Sometimes those rules were spoken:
“I’ll give you something to cry about,” was just one of my stepmother’s favorite phrases.

When Grief Has Nowhere To Go

All of this unexpressed grief — with nowhere to go — turned inward, and I wasn’t happy. To the outside world it may have appeared that I was a moping teenager but I was hurting inside.

One of the girls in my circle of friends was chosen to deliver the news:
"If you don’t stop being so depressed, we aren’t going to be friends with you anymore."

And just like that, another message landed: grieving wasn’t okay or welcome.

Looking back, that was my first memory of what I now understand as a sisterhood wound.

What Are Sisterhood Wounds?

"Sisterhood wounds" is a term used to describe the internalized pain, mistrust, or discomfort that can arise for some women in their relationships and interactions with other women. These wounds often stem from past experiences of betrayal, competition, exclusion, or judgment within female friendships or communities.

Middle and high school? Fertile ground for sisterhood wounds.

Competition for best clothing, friend groups, partners, attention, status — all mixed with constant messaging from society about how a girl should look and act. It’s like we were hooked up to an IV drip of not-enoughness.

The Loneliness We Don’t Talk About

It’s not surprising that I’ve often felt on the fringes of things. Even with my successes, I felt overlooked, invisible, and unwanted.

Sure, I could catalog all the moments and stories that reinforced that feeling. But to list them all would only be repeating the stories told through the lens of that sisterhood wound.

Healing in the Most Unexpected Place

Recently, I attended a soul retrieval retreat — a full week in Mexico with a group of thirteen women: one leader and twelve participants.

I arrived with the intention of processing more grief from the death of my husband, Walter, eight months earlier — and to alchemize shame I carried about my body.

Sisterhood wounds weren’t even on my radar. But life had other plans.

This group of women held me — literally and figuratively — as I cried and grieved the loss of Walter.

They didn’t turn away. They didn’t tell me I should do it differently. They stayed with me.

They witnessed my sobbing, my messy, snotty, holy grief.

They smiled as I shared stories about the love Walter and I shared. They honored me when I said the vulture sitting poolside one afternoon was Walter’s spirit in bird form.

They danced around the fire pit with me to the song Walter had asked me to play at his memorial.

They asked to see pictures of him.

With every gesture — spoken or silent — my sisterhood wounds began to heal.

Showing Up the Way I Always Hoped Someone Would

This experience gave me the sight — and the responsibility — to be that sister who cheers on other women.

I’ve always tried to be that woman. But it feels different now.

It feels like something I must do. Not from a place of proving or fixing. But from something burning bright within me — a soul-deep calling to support and help heal these wounds.

Because the divine feminine is rising.

And to assist that rise?
We have to heal our sisterhood wounds.

I believe that #WhenOneHealsWeAllHeal.

And I’m here for the healing of the sisterhood.

Won’t you join me?