I have a group chat called Mystery Van Bitches.
It includes my 224 girls — MyMorgoMoos, Laura, and Alyssa — and when I tell you this group chat is the epitome of womanhood, I mean it from the bottom of my heart.
We laugh until our stomachs hurt. We cry together without judgment. We send weird voice notes, dance videos, outfit pics, and long rants at 2 a.m. It’s compliment after compliment, accountability after accountability, love after love after love. It’s sacred.
The group chat is holy.
It’s the altar where we pour into each other — where no one has to shrink or explain herself. You can show up messy, mad, soft, divine — and they’ll still hold you like you’re gold.
There’s something about feminine support systems that has genuinely changed my life. Not just in a “these are my friends” way, but in a spiritual realignment kind of way. These women remind me what it means to be seen, to be safe, to be celebrated.
Especially my connection with MyMorgoMoos — that’s been transformative. She holds me accountable without making me feel small. She’ll tell me when she agrees, when she doesn’t, and she does it with love. She doesn’t internalize my chaos. She listens, gives, protects her peace, and moves with grace. I call her my Magic 8-Ball because she’s always right — but never judgmental.
Then there’s Laura, who lives her life like wind — free, grounded, untamed, true to herself. She doesn’t need anyone’s validation, and I admire that deeply.
And Alyssa — she’s all light and laughter. So direct, so clear about who she is and what she wants. She’s here for a good time, not a chaotic one, and she supports her people hard.
The three of them together — it’s magic.
The other day we were talking about a connection I had that they didn’t agree with. It could’ve turned into tension, but it didn’t. They said what they said — direct, real, honest. And then minutes later, we were back to sending voice notes, complimenting Laura’s voice, laughing, saying “I love you guys” over and over again. That’s what real womanhood looks like: disagreement without disconnection.
Two years ago, I might’ve lost friendships over something like that. But now? Now I’m surrounded by women who know that love doesn’t mean enabling. It means truth, patience, and grace.
And that’s exactly why I’m building spaces like the Women’s Club — because we need this. Every woman deserves a circle that feels like prayer. Every woman deserves to be reminded of her own power.
These women — my Mystery Van Bitches — they save my life every day.
Sometimes literally. The day I went to the hospital, if Morgan hadn’t been there, I might not even be here to write this. They hold me physically, spiritually, emotionally.
That’s what sisterhood does. It saves you — in the loudest and quietest ways.
The group chat is holy.
The laughter is holy.
The honesty is holy.
The love is holy.
Because womanhood is holy.
And I’ll never take that for granted again.
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