My First Women's Circle

Tonight, I co-facilitated my first women's circle, and I'm still feeling the warmth of what unfolded. As I sit here reflecting on the evening, I'm struck by how the things we resist most often become the experiences that transform us.

For months, I'd been asking an incredible woman who runs the beautiful forest school my three-year-old and I regularly attend to hold a women's circle. I wanted to experience that connection—the ancient wisdom that comes from women sitting together, the safety of being truly seen and held in sacred space.

But instead of creating the circle for me, she offered something both terrifying and perfect: "Why don't we do it together?"

My immediate response was a mixture of excitement and pure terror. Me? Lead a circle? I'd never done this before. But sometimes the gentle nudges we need come disguised as the very things that make us nervous.

I've been craving for this kind of connection—the wisdom of women, that ancient knowledge passed down through generations of gathering in circle. There's something profound that happens when women come together with intention, when we create space to be witnessed and to witness others.

I wanted to find that safety, that security of being held without judgment, where vulnerability becomes strength and shared stories becomes healing we didn't know we needed.

Our first circle was held under the canopy of trees, surrounded by birdsong and the gentle crackling fire. Six women, came together with curiosity and open hearts.

If I'm being honest, I was nervous introducing myself and going through the formalities of opening our circle. My my voice a little uncertain, stumbling with finding the right words. But something beautiful happened once we began to share—my nerves melted away, replaced by deep honor at what was unfolding.

I was moved by the bravery of these women. They opened up in ways that felt both vulnerable and powerful. Some may have felt resistance to looking deeper within themselves, but they found the courage to share anyway. They trusted the circle, trusted each other, and trusted the process.

Watching each woman speak her truth, I was reminded that we are not alone in our struggles and experiences. Through sharing openly, we show each other what bravery looks like—and give permission for others to be brave too.

during the the circle we made time for individual reflection among the trees. No expectations, no outcomes to achieve, nowhere to be but right there with ourselves. Just presence.

Of course, we were rudely interrupted by planes flying overhead—hardly the serene forest soundtrack we'd imagined! But instead of disrupting the sacred nature of our gathering, it brought unexpected lightness and laughter that melted away any remaining first-time nerves.

Sometimes the imperfect moments become the most perfect ones.

After our formal circle, we shared a hot cuppa and biscuits—complete with a debate over biscuit choices. But even this seemingly casual chat felt different. The conversations were deep and meaningful, with questions asked and answered that aren't part of everyday small talk.

There's something that happens when women gather with intention—even the ordinary moments become extraordinary.

What struck me most was the co-creative nature of what we built together. These women didn't just allow me to guide them through my first circle—they actively participated in creating something beautiful. They were open to what I was offering and willing to receive with open arms, while simultaneously teaching me wisdom and understanding I couldn't have gained anywhere else.

This is the magic of circle: it's not about one person leading and others following. It's about collective wisdom, shared experience, and the wonderfulness that happens when women gather with intention.

As I reflect on tonight, I'm filled with gratitude for the gentle nudge that pushed me beyond my comfort zone. I'm honored by the trust these women placed in me and in the circle we created together.

But mostly, I'm reminded that the things we long for—connection, community, sacred space—often require us to step up and help create them ourselves. Sometimes we're not meant to just join the circle; we're meant to help weave it into existence.

I know this is just the beginning. The seeds planted tonight will continue to grow, not just in my own journey but in the lives of each woman who shared that space. This is how change happens—not through grand gestures, but through ordinary women choosing to gather, to share, to hold space for each other's truth.

I can't wait to see what unfolds.