What Kind of Retreater Are You?

(Because let’s face it, no one is ever just here for the yoga)

After years of running retreats, we’ve seen the full range of women walk through the door.

Some turn up like they’ve stepped out of a magazine shoot.

Others arrive half-zipped into their coat, dragging a suitcase they packed ten minutes before leaving.

All of them brilliant. All of them here for something.

Whether they admit it or not.

So here they are. The usual suspects. Maybe you’ll spot yourself. Maybe you’ll spot your mate.

Maybe you’ll pretend you don’t fit any of them while quietly nodding along to all five.

The One Who’s Basically Project Managed It

Booked on the day we launched. Possibly before. Printed the itinerary, highlighted it, cross-referenced it with the weather forecast.

She’s already posted in the WhatsApp group asking what time check-in is, if we need bug spray, and whether there’ll be oat milk.

She’s got supplements, plasters, blister pads, two books, three types of activewear and a separate bag for snacks.

She’s at every session. Knows everyone’s name. Probably needs to lie down but won’t.

We’d be lost without her.

The One Who’s Just Here to Chill

Didn’t open the email. Doesn’t know where she’s going next. Brought three swimsuits, one pair of pants and zero intention of joining anything.

You’ll find her horizontal. By the pool. In bed. In a hammock. Doesn’t matter. She’s horizontal.

Might pop up at dinner. Might not. If she attends a session, it’s by accident.

She’s here to rest and absolutely not sorry about it. Nor should she be.

We should all be more her.

The One Who Nearly Didn’t Come

Had a full panic the week before. Told herself she wasn’t the right kind of person for this. Nearly cancelled. Twice.

Turns up flustered, overpacked and already planning how to leave early if it’s weird.

Fast forward 48 hours and she’s in fits of laughter with people she met at breakfast and referring to them as “the girls” like it’s Love Island.

Leaves completely different to how she arrived. Looks ten years younger. Already asking when the next one is.

Honestly, always one of our favourites.

The One Who Got Dragged Along

Didn’t really know what she was signing up for. Booked it because her mate wouldn’t stop banging on about it.

She’s not against it, she’s just not fully sure what’s happening.

Spends the first day keeping her sunglasses on indoors and pretending to be fine.

Then something shifts. She journals. She laughs. She does the breathwork and doesn’t even roll her eyes.

By the end, she’s more into it than the mate who brought her. But don’t worry, she’ll deny it.

The One Who’s Completely Frazzled

Turns up looking slightly unwell. Still checking work emails. Eyes like dinner plates. Hasn’t taken a proper breath in about six months.

Says things like “I just want to feel like myself again”

Also says “I’m fine” a lot. She isn’t.

Takes a day or two to stop twitching. Then she softens. Sleeps. Stares at trees for a bit.

Cries during a sound bath and is completely baffled by her own emotions.

By the end she’s smiling for real and planning a sabbatical to learn yoga in Bali.

We’ve all been her. She’s the reason this exists.

So… which one are you?

All of them? Same.

That’s the whole point.

There’s no right way to retreat. You don’t have to be spiritual. You don’t have to be bendy. You don’t even have to speak to anyone if you don’t fancy it.

You can join in with everything. You can join in with nothing.

You don’t need permission. You don’t need to apologise. And you definitely don’t need to feel guilty for choosing rest over another activity.

We don’t do guilt here. We do snacks, space, and naps without explanation.

Come as you are. Slippers, spreadsheets, silence, chaos. It all fits.