They say life is made up of the small things, the tiny gestures and ordinary moments repeated day after day that quietly weave together into the tapestry of our lives. The school lunches, a smile exchanged with a stranger in a shop, how you greet your neighbour, where you choose to spend your free time. I notice this most at the end of each year when I make our family photo book. It isn’t filled with grand events, but with walks, baking, muddy boots, shared meals and laughter around the table. Proof that a good life is built from simple, beautiful rituals.

And yet, I find myself asking, does life need big adventures too?

I once heard that when your children are little, your world becomes little. And as they grow, your world expands again. That thought gave me comfort, a reminder that this season of closeness, routine and responsibility is not forever, and that new horizons wait patiently for us.

Before children, I travelled often. I loved exploring new places, cultures, foods, climates and people. I said yes to almost every trip because I could. Freedom lived lightly on my shoulders then. Now, those big adventures are beginning to return, with my new husband, sometimes with the children, and sometimes just for me. It feels as though wings that were once clipped are slowly growing back. I can step out of the nest again, not away from love, but towards myself.

Because as a woman, and especially as a mother, life can start to feel heavy. Monotonous. Exhausting. Full of invisible labour. We carry so much, the planning, the worrying, the caring, the holding of everyone else’s needs alongside our own. Perhaps this is ancient. Women have always kept the tribe turning, tending children, feeding bodies, soothing hearts, managing a thousand small details while others had one job, hunt, return, provide. We are natural caretakers, multitaskers, emotional anchors. And turning those cogs day after day can quietly wear us down.

That is why so many of the people who come on our retreats are women. They feel the pull to step away, not from love, but from responsibility, not only from children, but from caring for elders, managing work, supporting friends, carrying the mental load of life. You do not need to be a mother to feel this. Perhaps we should call it the female load, the endless thinking, organising, nurturing and holding.

So what does rest look like? Is it coffee in the garden? Lunch with a friend? Or is it something more? Is it adventure we are really seeking, something we can dream about, plan, and feel excited for? A space where we meet like-minded women who want to feel carefree again, even if only for a few days. To try something new. To stretch the edges of our comfort zones. To remember how it feels to be curious and playful and brave.

As we grow older, trying new things can feel harder. We cling to what we know. But beyond that familiar edge is growth, and growth keeps the spirit alive. We may age, but we do not have to grow old. We can remain vibrant in heart, open to wonder, to laughter, to experience.

So many women who come on retreat are empty nesters. Their children have grown and they are asking, now what? Others are divorced and beginning again, longing for connection, adventure and a new chapter. And I ask you this, how many cloaks do you wear? Mother. Daughter. Wife. Ex wife. Friend. Boss. Sister. Carer. Neighbour. Grandmother. Take them off for a moment and ask yourself, who am I beneath all of that? What does that woman need? What is she calling for?

If the answer is adventure, you have come to the right place. For women who have spent years putting others first, adventure is not escape, it is remembering you have wings and you too can fly.