A note from Meg

In the space of one week, three women I love called me with the same news. Different cities. Different decades of marriage. Different stories, but the same aching silence on the other end of the phone when they tried to find the words.

I was navigating my own separation at the time. Sixty years old and learning, for the first time after 25 years of marriage, what it meant to be simply, quietly, just me. Life had not prepared me for it.

I wanted my friends to feel surrounded, not merely by me with my own limitations. I looked for a place I could point them toward, something that understood the specific texture of this experience, not merely the crisis of it, but the dailiness of it. The first Sunday morning alone. The dinner table set for one. The moment you reach for your phone to share something and realize there is no one to call. The strange freedom and the strange grief arriving in the same hour.

I couldn't find what I needed. So I decided to create it.

But I did not want to create a place concerned only with what had happened to us. I wanted a place where women could feel deeply understood and then begin looking forward together. A place for whatever had been lost, but also for the friendships, ideas, journeys, laughter, and possibilities that might come next.

Circled in Light is what I needed and couldn't find. It is for the woman on the other end of that phone call, and for the woman who has stopped making those calls because she does not want to burden anyone. It is for the woman who lost a husband to death and the future she had imagined. It is for the woman who never married and is tired of being asked why. It is for the woman who is still in a marriage but has never felt more alone. It is for the woman who is quietly thriving in ways she never expected, and for the woman who is somewhere in between.

Grief is real, and there is room for it here. But this is not a complaint space filled with heaviness. It is a community for women who are building something: a new life, a new adventure, or a new way of belonging to themselves.

Joy is welcome here. So is laughter. So is hope.

I am present in this community, sharing my own doubts and discoveries right alongside yours. And on some days, I am the woman on the other end of that phone call.

If you are here, welcome. I have been waiting for you.

- Meg

Why a circle traced in gold? Read the story of our symbol →