This past weekend, 9 women gathered in Northern Michigan for a retreat I co-led around the transition from summer into fall.
We ranged in age from our late 40s into our early 70s. Some were still working. Some were retired. Some had children at home, while others had grown children and grandchildren. Some of us knew each other before the weekend, and others were meeting for the first time.
Heading into the weekend, I found myself thinking about how different we all were.
I came home thinking about how much we’re the same.
There was a lot of laughter over the weekend. There were long conversations around the table and during the spaces in between what we had planned. We talked about our kids—whether they were still at home or had families of their own. We talked about work, family, relationships, and some of the things we’re navigating in our lives right now.
The details weren't the same, because our lives aren't the same. But so much of what was underneath those conversations felt familiar.
Different Stages, Familiar Experiences
I found it incredibly comforting to spend time with women who are a little further down the road than I am.
They've been in their late 40s. They've navigated some of the transitions that those of us in this stage of life are navigating now. And there was something reassuring about sitting with women who understood where we were because they'd already been there.
At the same time, I found it inspiring to see where they are now. Not because they've figured everything out—life doesn't suddenly become simple when you reach a certain age—but because they offered a different perspective simply by being in a different stage of it.
And I think the reverse was true, too. The women who were further along could recognize parts of their own lives in the conversations those of us in our late 40s were having.
We didn't need to be in exactly the same place to understand one another.
Several women described what developed over the weekend as a sense of sisterhood. Others talked about how quickly we had connected. Whatever word we use for it, I felt it too.
And it got me thinking about something I talk about often: support.
Support Isn't Always Something We Do
One of the questions I come back to again and again in my own life and in the work I do with women is:
What would support me right now?
Usually, when we think about support, we think about something we can do. Maybe it's moving our body, getting outside, taking a walk, getting more sleep, taking a few quiet minutes, or changing what we're doing because what we originally planned doesn't fit the day we're having.
Those things matter. Learning to notice what we need and respond to it is a big part of taking care of ourselves.
But this weekend reminded me that support isn't always something we do for ourselves.
Sometimes support is who we surround ourselves with.
There's something different about sitting across from another person and realizing she understands. Maybe she's going through something similar right now. Maybe she went through it 15 years ago. Maybe her circumstances are completely different, but something about what you're saying feels familiar to her anyway.
She doesn't necessarily have to give you advice. She doesn't need to fix anything. Sometimes it's simply comforting to know that someone else gets it.
We Don't Have to Be in the Same Place
I think it's easy to notice the ways we're different from one another first.
Our families look different. We're in different stages of our careers. Our bodies are changing in different ways. One person is raising children while another is watching hers raise children of their own. One woman is thinking about retirement while another is still figuring out what she wants the next part of her work life to look like.
But those differences don't mean we don't have anything to offer one another.
In fact, maybe there's value in not always being in exactly the same place.
Someone a little further ahead can offer perspective simply because she's already lived through something you're experiencing now. Someone walking through it alongside you can make you feel less alone in it. And sometimes being around someone in a different stage of life helps you see your own a little differently.
That was one of my favorite parts of the weekend. There wasn't one person with all the answers and everyone else there to learn from her. The support moved in every direction.
We laughed together. We listened. We shared stories. We recognized pieces of ourselves in women whose lives, from the outside, might have looked very different from our own.
Who Is Part of Your Support?
We talk a lot about what we can do to support ourselves, and I think that's important. There are practices we can build and choices we can make that help us feel stronger, steadier, clearer, and more like ourselves.
But we aren't meant to do all of that alone.
Support might also be the friend you walk with once a week. The person you can call who doesn't need you to explain everything first. The women you see regularly in a class. Someone older who offers perspective. Someone your age who says, "Yes, me too."
It doesn't have to be a large group of women gathered for a weekend away. Sometimes it's one person who leaves you feeling a little more understood after you've spent time together.
So perhaps when we ask ourselves What would support me right now?, we can leave a little more room for the answer.
It might not always be what.
Sometimes, it might be who.
One Thing to Try Today
Think about the people in your life who help you feel supported.
Who can you laugh with? Who makes you feel understood? Who offers a perspective you don't always have on your own? Who leaves you feeling a little more connected after you've spent time together?
If someone came to mind whom you haven't connected with lately, reach out. Send the text. Make the phone call. Plan the walk or the cup of coffee.
Supporting yourself doesn't always have to mean finding one more thing to do.
Sometimes it means making space for the people who help remind us that we don't have to do all of this alone.
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