By Diane Ortega

Writing this from 30,000 feet, somewhere over the Atlantic…

I’m returning from Avalon- barefoot in spirit, cracked open, and carrying something ancient and entirely new.

This past week in Glastonbury, England, wasn’t just a retreat. It was a return. A remembering. A realignment.

I traveled with six extraordinary sisters to Avalon for what was described as a feminine growth retreat. We weren’t given much of an itinerary: just a few ceremonial colors to pack: black, red, white… and a veil.

But as I quickly discovered, you don’t journey to Avalon. Avalon calls you.

The Realization That Rocked Me

Somewhere between the sacred stones, the red spring, and the astrology swirling in the skies, something broke open in me. Not gently- more like a freight train through the soul.

I saw, with sharp clarity, a pattern I’ve been living for most of my life.

I’ve always carried the weight.
As the only girl in a family of four siblings.
As a single mom raising four children.
As a midwife, business owner, and leader who holds space for so many others.

In building thriving birth centers… launching programs… guiding women through sacred transitions… I’ve always prioritized everyone else’s needs before my own.

And Avalon said: enough.

The Sacred Hypocrisy

There I was, someone who coaches women to reclaim their time, delegate, receive support, and I realized I was still carrying more than I needed to. Still subtly choosing self-sacrifice over sovereignty.

It hit me like truth often does: painful, humbling, and freeing all at once.

How could I lead women into deeper leadership and liberation if I wasn’t fully living it myself?

Finally Understood the Cost

“I know what it feels like to stay small while holding everything together.”

What Avalon gave me was more than insight.
It was a sacred permission slip to finally live what I teach.

I now see that my greatest qualification isn’t my credentials, experience, or the businesses I’ve built.

It’s that I’ve lived the burnout.
I know what it means to stay small while holding everything together.

I know the quiet grief of disappearing from your own story.
I know how it feels to be buried in the details when you were born to rise.

And I also now know what it feels like to release that pattern.

Coming Home, To Myself

As I return from Avalon, I am not just reentering my life.
I am reclaiming it.

I’m choosing to put myself first, not as an afterthought, but as a sacred act.
Because when we as women center ourselves, we don’t diminish others, we uplift everything around us.

This is the work.
This is the walk.
This is the remembering.

And it begins again, now.