I went to the South of France, and joined a commune.

Just kidding. But honestly? Being part of a commune, like a healthy and loving one without an evil leader, would be an actual dream for me.

Earlier this month I found myself on Aether’s Muse Retreat in the South of France, hosted by one of my dear friends that I met at a yoga teacher training back in 2018. I had finally just started to feel settled in Montana with no plans on going anywhere, and then all of a sudden I was booking a flight, and getting on a plane four days later. It was like something had completely taken over me, and brought me to this magical villa nestled in between rolling hills, lush forests, rose gardens, and a blooming vineyard. The minute my feet landed onto the pebbled driveway, and my friend wrapped me up in all her warmth I knew I was meant to be there for reasons bigger than I could understand in that moment. It was on this trip that the nagging call from The Universe to share my writing became so loud that I could no longer send it to voicemail. So, here we are.

I feel like a completely different person — yes, your entire being really can change that much in a week.

Friends have asked me what my biggest takeaways from the retreat were, and how I’m feeling afterward, to which I’ve responded, “I feel like a completely different person.” And to my human brain there’s just no way possible I could have changed that much in a week. There’s just no way. But at the same time my brain shakes it’s logical head no, my soul nods yes. A nod full of confirmation and reassurance. That yes, your entire being really can change that much in a week.

And whispers, “If you allow it.”

I walked into the first day of the retreat, thinking I’d spend the week relaxing, reconnecting to my yoga practice, working on my tan, and taking a break from much of the healing I’d been working through. For two months leading up to the retreat, I had been diving deep into talk therapy, hypnotherapy, and other healing modalities. I was working through a lot, and I was unknowingly drained because let’s be honest, healing can be draining. So when I landed on my yoga mat for a two-hour gentle yoga practice on the first morning, I heard my body for the first time in a while. And it was exhausted.

Each day of the retreat was connected to an element – earth, water, fire, air, and aether. So as we moved through an element each day, we also worked with the chakra and astrological sign connected with it. One thing I loved most was that at the end of every practice, workshop, or ceremony there was always space to share, and be heard. And at the end of practice on that first morning of Earth Day, I looked around and listened to each woman share what was coming up for them. As I watched them all so wildly vulnerable with their words and in their feelings I thought to myself, “Fuck, it looks like I’m gonna have to open that door, and walk through it.” That’s how I pictured my vulnerability - a door. A very, very, very big door that led to a vault with an even bigger padlock on it. I told myself it was okay to open that door, as long as I walked through it alone. I swore myself to secrecy that whatever was inside was never to be shown to anyone, ever. Not because it was easier, but because I was scared. Scared that if I showed anyone what I’d locked away for so long I would no longer be the same Alyssa to them. That no one would have any idea how to talk to me, that it would all just be too much, and that I would be too much.

For most of my life, and with most of my relationships I’ve held up an invisible wall. One that kept me from fully showing and sharing myself. I played the role of the friend people could always go to, but made sure I was never going to anyone. And so it’s safe to say I’ve kept a lot of parts of myself hidden for a really long time. My spirituality, my intuition, my gifts, my vulnerability, my hurt, and my trauma completely hidden. In result I found myself with many friendships where I felt like I couldn’t show up authentically, and in the rare moments where I did share a sliver of a hidden part, I was met with rejection, shame, discomfort or feelings of not being seen or heard. I didn’t realize it at the time, but these friendships served as a mirror for everything I refused to show others and everything I was denying myself.

A deep state of safety and relaxation

So on the second day, when we dove into the element of water and our sacred womb space of the sacral chakra, a clock appeared on my vulnerability door. Reminding me that whether or not I chose to open that door, it was going to find a way and that it was only a matter of time. Again, this realization found me during the morning practice that day, where I had gotten my body and nervous system into such a deep state of safety and relaxation that I started to tremor for the very first time. Something I had been trying to get my body to do for months.

Turns out the clock was a ticking time bomb.

Later that day during some free time, I took a walk through the property and found a spot to lounge out. I had planned to lay under the sun, work on my tan, and maybe read a book, but as I sat down I was overwhelmed with emotions that were coming to the surface. For the first time in months, I was hit with the need to write so I took out a pen and scribbled this:

“I find myself in an interesting time in life. I feel like I’m coming out of a season of some of the most powerful healing I will ever do in this lifetime. For the first time, I swam down to the root, and even when I felt like I was swimming in the dark I kept swimming. It has allowed me to create meaningful change, and I feel like I’m now navigating life so beautifully. I now sit with the truth that I am so deeply beautiful – that the way I’ve healed and emerged from the wreckage is so deeply beautiful. While I sit with the excitement of who I am becoming, I also sit with the grief of who I was. The young girl who was scared, who was just doing what she could to survive, the little girl who lost her innocence too early, and therefore lost her fun, her play, her imagination. The one who protected herself so fiercely she forgot what she was protecting herself from. And so I sit with that grief. Knowing that little girl needed, and deserved, so much more than she got. I grieve the teenage girl, and the early 20s girl who was so stuck in survival mode, who didn’t think she was capable of being loved, even though that was all she wanted. I grieve each and every past version of myself, because each one has given me gifts I will cherish for lifetimes. But I also grieve all that I don’t need from them anymore – the roles, the social masks, the hiding, the coping mechanisms, the beliefs, the trauma, the not knowing, all of it. And the beauty of this time is that each day I see my grief and excitement meet for their daily dance, in celebration and acknowledgment that I’m finally becoming the woman I was always meant to be.”

When I was done writing, I sat there in disbelief with the feelings that I was feeling. I was supposed to be relaxing, reconnecting with my yoga practice, building a base tan for this summer, and taking a break from diving into my healing. But here I was, diving in even deeper. (Blame it on all my Scorpio placements!)

That afternoon, we were guided through an art workshop where we were encouraged to let our feelings move through us and into the art. As I began to paint it felt like anger was coursing through me, each brush stroke was loud, demanding to be heard and seen. The clock was ticking louder than before, and I felt a slight panic growing within me. I let myself move through it, channeled it into painting and when I was finished I looked at what I had just created with the realization that what I thought was anger was actually my own power. Demanding to be heard, seen, and felt. Demanding me to speak my truth. Demanding me to unapologetically stand in it.

Well, it’s nice to finally meet you too.

We sat in ceremony that night, and the tears started flowing. I was wrapped in the sweetest, most wholesome, unconditional love I’ve ever experienced. After that night I felt peace move through me.

We sat in ceremony that night, and the tears started flowing. At the end, I sat and listened again to each woman, but I stayed silent. My body convulsing, tears streaming, my throat tightening, my power screaming, the door of vulnerability banging, and all I could think was, “there’s just no way.” And then I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and heard the whisper “there is… if you allow it.”

The bomb went off, the door exploding into a million tiny pieces, and the words came out of me like word vomit. I was shocked to see that what I’d just let slip out between my lips laid lifeless on the floor in front of me, shrinking with each passing second. No longer taking up space, no longer holding me hostage, and no longer mine to carry on my own.

The opposite of what I thought would happen, happened. I didn’t become a different Alyssa in the eyes of others, no one was unsure of how to talk to me, it wasn’t too much… I wasn’t too much. I was wrapped in the sweetest, most wholesome, unconditional love I’ve ever experienced, and the beauty of it still brings tears to my eyes as I write this. I was supported, believed, held, and seen for what felt like the very first time. Because I allowed it.

In giving myself permission to meet myself deeper, love myself deeper, embrace myself deeper, and stand in my own truth, I gave everyone around me the permission see me in the same way.

After that night I felt peace move through me. I cozied up to my own divine power, and my truth. And it felt like I’d come back home after a long camping trip, took the best shower of my life, put on my favorite pajamas, and nestled into the world’s most comfortable couch – of course, with a book by my side. There was no ticking time bomb, tightly locked door, or secrets to keep hidden. There was just me – messy, tender, vulnerable, healed, yet still a work in progress, beautiful, sweet, funny, joyous, honest, imaginative, playful, fiery, creative, youthful, emotional, powerful, complex, authentic me.

So here I am, a month after a transformative trip. Sitting with a new found peace, one that I can feel flowing through my body each and every day. Getting used to that. Walking into hard conversations confident in my own knowing. Letting go of some relationships, and healing others. Celebrating my healing. Standing in my power. Grieving. Excited. Still healing. Laughing. Dancing. Crying. Eating cake. Feeling all of it. Eating some more cake. And this time sharing it instead of hiding it. Allowing it.

I’m excited to be here with you, to share everything in between with you, and to walk through the door of vulnerability together.

Written by Alyssa Merwin