August 2025; Summer in Upstate New York. I had my bachelorette with my sister and my four best friends. Six women in a cottage on a lake. As everyone arrived for the night, we quickly found ourselves in the kitchen, ignoring the formal dining table set for eight and instead opting to gather around the round table in the kitchen, the six of us shoulder to shoulder as we stuffed our faces with snacks, conversations overlapping and intertwining as the hours passed. This was my happy place, being with these women that have known me and loved me and shown up for me through all different stages of my life, talking about everything from the glorious to the mundane to the life altering. Laughing over weird sourdough terminology and exclaiming with joy over Taylor Swift’s upcoming album. Reminiscing about childhood, telling funny stories about our kids, and complaining about women’s mental load. Roasting my ex boyfriends and then drooling over cute baby pictures. Complimenting nail color, trading a recipe, and strategizing about breast milk storage. Conversation that touched on job transitions, mental health struggles, the joys and challenges of marriage and motherhood, life’s gains and losses and all that’s in-between. To me, there is something so incredibly beautiful about a group of women existing together like this in a shared space, especially one absent of men. Something vibrant and unabashed and free, something communal and ancient and sacred. The Red Tent. Women talking, laughing, eating, relaxing, just simply being, with no performative nature, neither for society at large nor anyone outside that small circle of safety and care.
My sister has seen me grow and change and evolve from the beginning of my life until now, and is the only one who holds childhood and family memories with me, a bond that’s both indescribable and unbreakable. We’ve gone from tape down the middle of the floor in our shared bedroom, and tattling on each other, to being each other’s maid of honor, and each other’s safety net when we need someone to messily sob to, snot and all, at our lowest moments. She’s given me the most amazing gift of being an aunt to her daughters. She knows versions of me that no one else can, and as an adult I’m so thankful to be lucky enough to have her in my life, through whatever ups and downs time brings. She’s the Lorelei to my Rory, the Louise to my Thelma.
My college friend Liz, who constantly amazes me with her wit and intellect, met me and accepted me and loved me even when I was a shy, introverted, timid and awkward young adult who preferred the company of books over people because I didn’t know if anyone outside imaginary worlds of dragons and magic wands could see my true self and find something worthwhile. Of course, that’s what we bonded over in our English Literature courses – the joy of losing yourself in the characters and stories of fictional worlds. Liz tells stories in the most eloquent style imaginable and she shows up for the people in her life in a caring and compassionate way that makes you feel incredibly seen, heard, and valued. She constantly inspires me with fresh perspectives and wisdom on life’s twists and turns, and I can’t believe I’ve been blessed with a friend like her for a decade.
My friend Abby is a spitfire who I fully believe could run for Congress tomorrow and win. She’s a force of nature who has always left me speechless with her pure level of grit and no-bullshit, take-no-prisoners, fuck-you attitude. She walks through the world with a level of confidence that I wish every woman could hold. She has taught me a weird and awesome array of things that include (in no particular order) how to roast squash, that I can enjoy THC in small amounts, handy insults and swear words in Spanish, and that curvy girls can rock crop tops too. Her absolute freedom to be herself no matter where she is, or who she’s with, has inspired me to dig down and find my own audacity to stop giving so many fucks (and go without a bra more often).
In case this doesn’t already seem like some elder millennial Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, let me tell you about my friend Sam. While on the surface we have a plenty of things in common, including our love of coffee, propensity to obsessively clean, and slightly anxious tendencies, she’s also a bit of the yin to my yang. While I’m a bit of a nerdy dreamer with my head in the clouds, Sam was a student athlete who rebounded faster from shoulder surgery than any normal, lesser human could. She is no-nonsense and you can always count on her to tell her like it is, and give you a frank analysis or some tough love when you need it the most. She inspires me to take risks in life, because as much as she loves her routines, she’s fearless when it comes to pushing herself forward in the ways that count, taking leaps into new territory. I hope we’re eating pasta and chicken cutlets together in her Italian kitchen until we’re little old ladies.
Last, but certainly not least, is my best friend Cassie. In some ways, being with her is like looking in a mirror. We grew up with really similar family dynamics, but it’s more than that. Without even having to explain what I’m feeling about something, she inherently seems to understand my deepest dreams, regrets, hopes…we weren’t born sisters but she knows my soul. She’s seen me crying on the bathroom floor and has had the guts to tell me I was too worthy and deserving of love to accept shit relationships that were breaking my heart. She’s heard my daily rambles over the phone for years now, listing little joys and stupid annoyances and all the small things that make up a life piece by piece. I’ve seen her get married, change jobs, and become a mother and am in awe of the evolution and growth that has happened in our lives together.
What better bachelorette than to have time surrounded by the women who have seen me broken and helped me put the pieces back together, who have borne witness to my journey, been there for me in sunshine and shade, who are so happy to celebrate my happiness as I move into life’s next chapter. It’s too easy to feel that women are pitted against each other, social media making you feel like if you don’t dress like this or your house doesn’t look like that then you’re failing miserably. Too easy to feel like your value in the world is determined by the roles you play in relation to others: daughter, wife, mother, employee…instead of owning and holding value and worthiness as yourself, whoever you are at your core. At work we’re pitted against gendered stereotypes like “working mom” or “bitchy boss” and in men’s eyes we’re too thin, too fat, or just not the right shape at all. Oversexualized, dismissed, ignored, forgotten, taken for granted. These are weights that every woman has felt at some point in time. But here, in this bubble, in this moment in time…all I feel is pure unadulterated happiness and peace. Female friendships are one of the closest things to magic that I imagine exist in this world. I feel celebrated, seen, loved, accepted, beautiful, wise, worthy. I am me, present in the moment and whole. Life doesn’t get better than that.
Jill Came Tumbling After 