Why We Need a Village

Let’s be real - parenting is a rollercoaster.

Some days it’s magical. Other days it’s “who let me be in charge of actual humans?”

And the truth? It’s lonely as hell sometimes.
Even when you’re surrounded by people, it can feel like no one actually sees YOU and the invisible load you’re carrying.

That’s why The Village Collective of Jackson was born.

Not because a committee sat down and said, “What this town needs is another program with the word ‘community’ in it.”
No. It started because a group of us - moms, friends, women who’ve known each other for decades, and women who just met - looked at each other and said, “We need this. We know other women need this too.”

I’ll be honest. This isn’t a well-oiled machine, fully formed and ready to go… It’s an idea and space that we want input on. A space we want others to feel ownership of.

I’m a mom of three, juggling a business, music therapy work, Harmony Gardeners concerts, theatre rehearsals, kids’ after-school activities, a marriage, late-night porch sitting (when I can swing it), and enough laundry to bury a small village. I know moms need support. I know moms need laughter. I know moms need a place to fall apart and still be loved.

So we did what women have always done - we made our own village.

And here’s the best part: it’s not exclusive. It’s not perfect. It’s not about keeping up appearances. It’s about showing up as you are - whether that’s in yoga pants with a cold cup of coffee or in your Sunday best because you finally got out of the house without spit-up on your shirt.

The Village Collective is moms and families coming together to say:

  • We’re better together.

  • We don’t have to do this alone.

  • And yes, you absolutely belong here.

So if you’ve ever felt isolated, overwhelmed, or just plain exhausted by the weight of it all - come sit with us.
We’re figuring it out together.
Messy, loud, and laughing our way through it.

Because every mom deserves a village.

And this one? It’s yours too.

Previous
Previous

Roots That Go Back Years

Next
Next

Harvesting Hope