The Sisterhood Wound, the Savior Role, and the Space After Shedding

The discomfort the last few weeks has been real. I’ve been experiencing an identity unraveling. A shedding as the Year of the Snake closes out before the Fire Horse begins.

I’ve been living out an imprint for a long time. A pattern of being the one who stabilizes, holds things together, and knows when something can no longer meet what’s required. I was taught to give the shirt off my back. My time. My energy. Even when I didn’t have enough for myself.

This imprint shows up most clearly in relationships.

The big sister.
The loyal friend.
The therapist.
The one who stays.
The one who holds.
The peacekeeper.

For a long time, friendships and even my family birth and adopted kept that version of me intact. And as that identity began dissolving in 2025, I was afraid. Because it required me to let go without knowing who I would be on the other side. Who would be left?

I softened myself. I censored myself. I unknowingly played savior. by trying to bring others with me. I kept holding things together long after my body was done.

And my body told the truth.

Holding on to weight. A strange rotator cuff injury resurfaced while sleeping.
Eczema and skin breakouts.
Exhaustion.

10/10 character development experience.

What I can see now is that much of what we call “best friends” in adulthood isn’t intimacy. It’s attachment. Codependence. Trauma bonding. Often the sisterhood wound dressed up as closeness through proximity. before you come for me not all but many relationships.

Sharing trauma, secrets, and “ride or die” vows creates fast intimacy, but not necessarily intimacy. Loyalty often replaces honesty. Repair feels threatening. Boundaries stay unspoken. Self-censorship keeps the bond intact.

The relationship works as long as women adjust, contort, censor, and fawning.

Often, the dynamic isn’t about being seen. It’s about being needed. And I’ve played that role well. Too well. I really do think I became a therapist for me to heal and also get paid for what I was doing everywhere and for everyone.

The moment things began to shift was when I stopped trying to bring people with me.

I stopped softening my edges so others wouldn’t feel left behind. I stopped negotiating my truth to preserve connection.

This wasn’t about leaving people behind. It was about putting myself first without guilt. About choosing embodiment over explanation.

For a long time, I thought leadership meant carrying responsibility for others. Making sure everyone was okay, included before I moved. But real leadership doesn’t require self-erasure. It begins with self-responsibility.

Women can lead without rescuing others from their own discomfort.
We can grow without waiting in order to keep everyone included.
We can choose ourselves and still value actual community, not dependency.

I don’t shrink to be loved.
I don’t compare or compete to belong.

I have always celebrated other women. What’s new is that I no longer abandon myself for those who compare, compete, or cannot celebrate me. I can speak well of others and still walk my own path, without explanation or negotiation.

Not everything is personal.
Sometimes it’s just growth.

There was another moment, and I can feel it clearly now, when I realized I had already chosen a different trajectory. A different timeline. A quantum leap, whatever language you want to use. And I had to be okay with no one coming with me.

Losing everything.
Letting go.

I had touched this edge before in a medicine ceremony where I left my body and expereinced being in spirit. Even then, I worried whether everyone would be okay if I didn’t return, without me. This winter it wasn’t a medicine journey. It was standing in the shower close to midnight watching everything flash before me, releasing them.

My pets.
My family.
Dreams I’ve had.
Clients.
Community.
Friends.

I could let it all go if that was what was required.

The twist was that letting go actually wasn’t the point.
Being willing to surrender was.

Once I crossed into internal space, the real-life situations that couldn’t come with me soon fell away. They couldn’t be stabilized without me betraying myself. Subtly, they mirrored a rupture from July 2016. A loop closing from 2016 to 2026.

The Cancer–Capricorn axis , as well as, Houses 4, 10, 6, and 12. Mercury, North Node, Uranus, Jupiter IC and MC. Home. Belonging. Responsibility. Communication. Purpose. To have everything I wanted, I had to jump. Open my hands. Let go.

To have everything I wanted, I had to jump.
Open my hands.
Let go.

When those relationships fell away, I could finally see how much energy they required from me. How much I had to show up for them to be “okay.” How little space there was for me to actually be met.

Friendships meant to endure are rooted in respect and integrity. They celebrate each other. They don’t gossip. They aren’t codependent. They don’t require stabilizing. They don’t live in drama or gossip loops. When rupture happens, both people return to communicate and repair. They never require you to contort, censor, or collapse so the relationship can continue.

I felt more spacious now. More relaxed. More free. The space was unfamiliar, and my nervous system has to recalibrate. When you shift your nervous system is no longer negotiating, censoring, or holding everything together.

No stabilizing.
No negotiating.
No saving.

This is one way healing the sisterhood wound looks like for me. Not blaming. Not bypassing. Not pretending. Just choosing to stop being the one who holds it all. And with that the release of suppressed anger, frustration, and self criticism to avoid criticism and embarrassment.

If any part of this feels familiar, you may be moving through a similar threshold. Many women are losing or letting go of old and new friendships right now. Not because something is wrong, but because something is being shed. The grief and loneliness is real.

Healing comes from not taking it personally but responsibility.

This process asks us to leave relationships that are no longer aligned, not in anger or blame, but in truth. To loosen attachment to roles and versions of ourselves that can’t come with us into what’s next.

When you allow what can’t stay to fall away, you create the space to shed old aspects of yourself and move forward aligned with your path.

This is the ground I’m standing on now. And if you’re moving through a similar threshold, there are ways to walk it with support.

If you’re in a season of shedding, grief, or recalibration, you don’t have to walk it alone. Alchemy of 2026 begins in February as a live, embodied container for integration and aligned movement. For those wanting deeper support, private retreats offer an intimate space to step out of old patterns and into what’s next.

These spaces aren’t about becoming someone new. They’re about allowing what can’t stay to fall away so you can rise. If this resonates, trust that. Details for Alchemy of 2026 series starts January 13, 2026. Alchemy of the Breakthrough is a deeper 3-month space and the in-person options are Solo and Duo private retreats, learn more.

Please let me know if you have questions. Now is the time to claim your year.

XO—Amy