women, love, doulas

Last weekend I attended a doula retreat, and it was absolutely energizing and inspiring. People have been noticing my henna tattoo all week, and I tell them that I got it sitting around in a circle of women, while we painted each other’s hands. The only thing missing was hair braiding.

I love women.

We brought herbs, spices, and other goodies to add to the salt bowl.

The doula retreat, sponsored by the Utah Doula Association, created this lovely space (under a red tent, no less) for women to gather and talk about everything under the sun and all of it relating back to the female condition.

Let me tell you a secret. There is a large group of women out there, who love other women, who support them during their labor and delivery, who encourage women to find strength they didn’t know they had, women who facilitate and demystify breastfeeding—women who have knowledge about how to maneuver the physical and spiritual realm of being a woman, knowledge that women have a hard time finding anywhere else. They are doulas.

Parvati in candle form.

At the retreat, I gained a clearer idea of who I could be as a grown, adult woman. The group is incredibly diverse. I do not relate to everyone, but doulas need to be diverse because they serve a diverse population: all women.


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