Meet The Founder

Meet Becky

Founder of Return to Her

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I'm building this place, not because I have all the answers, but because there is a need.

 

A need for stillness. For truth. For community. For sisterhood. A need to feel held, seen, and soft—without having to explain why.

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I was raised in a conservative household that taught me how to obey, how to serve, and how to shrink. I spent years immersed in spiritual abuse, wrapped in teachings that masked control as faith. It’s taken a long time—and a lot of unlearning—to reclaim my body, my voice, and my sacred worth.

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Like so many women, I’ve lived through things I never should have had to survive.

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I married young. To someone who made me afraid instead of cherished— who used me, instead of nourishing my soul. For years, I made excuses for his behavior until it became clear: I wasn’t just losing myself. I was in danger of losing my life.

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I buried my only daughter—a sentence that still echoes in my bones. Her name was Hannah Grace. There is no map for that kind of pain. Only the slow, sacred work of surviving it.

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I was already a mother when the storm hit. And through the exhaustion, the silence, and the ache, I kept showing up— for my children first, and then, slowly, for myself.

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I went to college while raising three boys alone. No safety net—just grit, grief, and grace.

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I’ve spent more than a decade working inside state systems—serving the public, managing complexity, and being praised for my competence. But those same systems overlooked my humanity. They took what I gave, while my soul whispered, there must be more.

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Even when I was breaking, I kept going. Because I had to.

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For a long time, I thought my story was unique. That I was the only one quietly breaking under the weight of it all.

But the more women I met, the more I saw the pattern: grief, burnout, spiritual trauma, invisible caregiving, emotional survival. Not rare tragedies—just everyday realities, wrapped in silence.

That’s when I stopped asking, “What’s wrong with me?” And started asking, “What’s wrong with the system that taught us to carry this alone?”

It was sisterhood that helped me see it.
And it was that seeing that helped me start to heal.

That’s why I believe healing is resistance.
And that’s why I am building this place.

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But even in the midst of survival, I never stopped dreaming.

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Of a place. Of women gathering. Of fires and softness and true sisterhood.

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Return to Her is that dream made real. Not a luxury spa. Not a polished performance. But a sacred, down-to-earth space where women can rest, exhale, and remember who they are beneath the noise.

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I am creating this retreat for the woman who’s tired of being everything to everyone.

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For the one who left the church, the marriage, the version of herself that made everyone else comfortable. For the one who’s grieving. For the one who hasn’t cried in years. For the one who still believes—even just a little

—that there might be more.

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This is my offering. Not as an expert. Not as someone with all the answers.

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But as a woman who has walked through the fire and still believes in softness. Who has lived in a world built by patriarchy and decided: it’s time to build something else.

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This is my part in the resistance.

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A quiet rebellion. A sacred refusal. A sanctuary built from the bones of everything I was told to endure in silence.

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A place where power looks like tenderness. Where leadership looks like listening. Where women gather not to compete— but to come home to each other.

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This will be a matriarchal space. Rooted in rest. Built with care. Held with reverence.

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If you’re reading this and feeling something stir, know this:

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You are not alone. You are not too much. You are not broken.

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You are a woman in a world that forgot how to hold her. And now… you’re finding your way back.

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Welcome home.

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— Becky