To the Woman Who Feels Nothing Anymore

 

You used to feel everything. 
Now… you’re just tired. 
Not sad. Not angry. Not even afraid. 
Just… blank.

You go through the motions. 
You show up. Smile when it’s expected. 
Do the things. Pay the bills. Carry the weight.

And inside? 
Silence. Or static. Or a scream that’s too quiet to matter.

You wonder if it’s too late. 
If the girl you used to be is gone for good. 
If this is just what life is now: 
Functional. Disconnected. Heavy.

But something in you found this place. 
Some tiny spark that isn’t dead yet. 
Some ache that still believes in softness. 
Some voice that whispered: *Try.*

This retreat is for *her.* 
The part of you that hasn’t given up, even if she’s buried.

We’re not here to fix you. 
We’re here to sit beside you while you *remember who you are.*

To hold space for the woman who feels nothing 
until she feels something again. 
And then everything.

Come. 
You don’t have to feel ready. 
You just have to show up.

We’ll meet you there.