becoming a woman that runs with other wolves.
- courtneyzano
- Apr 11, 2025
- 4 min read
I’ve always considered myself a lone wolf.
Self-sufficient, self-reliant, independent, and competent.
I’ve always considered this a good thing. It means I’m not a burden; it means that I can handle my own life.
But, there are other ways of describing this behavior.
I am bad at asking for help. I’m the employee who will spend hours trying to figure out an answer on my own instead of asking my manager or a colleague. I’m the friend who listens more than she talks. I’m the daughter who never lets my parents in on any struggle or challenge. I’m the partner who builds silent resentment as I do everything myself instead of just saying what I need and what would help release some of my burden.
I’ve come to rely on myself so much that I don’t know how to—even a teeny, tiny bit—rely on other people.
If I were a wolf, I’d be a damn good lone one.
But I’d also miss out on some amazing opportunities to be in community. To be in the co-creation with others.
And I’m starting to learn just how important leaning on other people really is.
I’ve been in a group coaching community for about eight months now. Usually, I’m engaged in the group chat. I love listening to the visions and breakthroughs of the other women. They inspire me, and they cheer me on. I love to do the same.
Last month, I felt myself pulling back. I felt myself slipping back into my patterns of quietness, not sharing with others, and lone-wolf tendencies. I felt stress piling on and the familiar fog of depression sneaking back in. I became absent.
And one morning, as I sat stressing about something, I opened my phone to a private message from the group coach. “Hi! Just checking in on you…” In her message, she offered support. She offered love. She saw me in my withdrawal and extended a hand.
It was the hand I didn’t realize I needed. The hand that waved away a bit of the fog and reminded me I don’t need to choose withdrawal all the time.
I joined a group writing session at a time that I normally don’t. As people hopped off to go about their days, I was left writing with the founder of the group.
In the chat she wrote, “How’s it going?”
I decided to choose vulnerability. I shared that I’ve been feeling uninspired and writing progress has been slow. That I’ve been trying to outline all of the memories I want to include in my memoir project, but it’s been challenging.
And she gifted me words that I didn’t even know I needed.
“You’ll figure out which stories you want to tell, and which you’ll write but keep to yourself.
Like a peach farmer who keeps the best ones for himself and his family, but still has a high quality product.”
And she’s right, of course. I just need to write. The clarity will take shape as I go.
Half of the fun is just biting in and savoring the juiciness.
A friend knows that I’ve been working toward a change. We voice note almost daily, and I’ve been talking about this desired change more and more often.
A few weeks ago, as I put away laundry, I listened to a voice note from her. In it, she was recounting a vivid dream she had about my manifestation coming to life. "Seriously, it felt SO REAL. Like, I know in my bones this change is here for you. And you got even slightly more than you wanted. I FEEL IT FOR YOU!”
Her enthusiasm filled me with gratitude. How cool is it to have a friend who cares enough that her subconscious literally dreams about MY dreams coming true? How cool is it to know that even when you’re doubting yourself, you can borrow belief from other people?
I decided to lead a SoulFlow™ embodiment class without notes for the first time. As someone who gets nervous and doubts myself when I have to present or teach, I’ve always written notes or guides for my sessions.
But something inside of me whispered, You got this. So once the music picked up, I closed out of my document and decided to trust whatever came through.
I started talking about the rebirth that happens in springtime and how I love the playfulness of everything coming back to life—like little bear cubs.
I don’t know why that came to me, but I said it and moved on.
After class, one of the women shared that her brother, who recently passed, loved bear cubs. And when I said that, she felt his presence in the room with her, dancing along.
I am forever dazzled by the magic of co-creation. Of dancing with the magic that happens when hearts open up together, fully open to receiving.
I gifted her a special moment. She gifted me the opportunity to trust myself more.
these are just some small moments, tiny snippets from this past month, that wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t intentionally put myself in supportive communities.
The truth is: we need other people. We are social animals. Despite how much social media and society tries to isolate us and make us believe it’s normal that we all live such independent lives, we weren’t meant to thrive on our own.
I wore my independence as a badge of honor for so long. But truthfully, I was robbing other people of the opportunity to cheer me on and I was robbing myself of the opportunity to be deeply vulnerable and seen by others. I would have robbed myself of all those beautiful moments above.
I don’t want to just be a lone wolf anymore.
I want to be part of a pack. 🐺
xx
Court.
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