After thirty years of walking alongside women on their wellness journeys, I’ve witnessed something profound: the moment a woman finally gives herself permission to step away from the world that constantly demands her attention, and steps into a space designed entirely for her renewal.

Every year, I watch women arrive at retreat carrying the weight of everyone else’s needs on their shoulders. They come apologetic—sorry to their families for leaving, sorry to their work for taking time, sorry to themselves for even wanting this space. But here’s what I’ve learned from decades in this sacred work: retreat isn’t selfish. It’s survival.

Our bodies are wise. They speak to us in whispers before they speak in shouts. That exhaustion you’re pushing through? That’s your body asking for rest. That overwhelm you’re managing so well? That’s your nervous system begging for reset. That longing for something deeper, more meaningful? That’s your soul calling you home to yourself.

An annual retreat becomes your date with yourself—unbreakable, non-negotiable, sacred. It’s where you remember that your well-being isn’t a luxury; it’s the foundation from which you serve everyone and everything you love.

In retreat, we strip away the noise. We breathe deeply. We move our bodies with intention rather than obligation. We nourish ourselves with foods that heal rather than just fill. We remember that health span equals life span, and both begin with honoring the vessel that carries our dreams.

I’ve seen women discover parts of themselves they’d forgotten existed. I’ve watched mothers remember they have names beyond “mom.” I’ve witnessed professionals reconnect with the creative spirits that got buried under deadlines. I’ve held space for women as they grieved old versions of themselves and birthed new ones.

The women who commit to this annual pilgrimage to themselves—they glow differently. They move through their lives with more grace, more boundaries, more joy. They become living examples to their daughters, their sisters, their communities that a woman’s well-being matters.

For me, this commitment is sacred. Every December, without fail, I gift myself a retreat. It’s become my most important appointment of the year—a promise I keep with myself that no matter what life has brought, I will close the year by coming home to me. It’s where I release what no longer serves, celebrate what I’ve grown through, and set intentions for the woman I’m becoming. This practice has sustained me through every season of my life, and it’s taught me that consistency in self-care creates the deepest transformation.

Your retreat doesn’t have to be exotic or expensive. It simply has to be intentional. It has to honor your truth: that you are worthy of care, worthy of rest, worthy of renewal. Because the world needs you at your fullest, not your most depleted.

Make the date. Keep the promise. Your future self is already thanking you.