Long, soul-stirring conversations. Vulnerable confessions laid bare. Lingering needs finally seen and met. Moments of “I’ve been there,” and moments of pure, steady presence. That was what the last two weeks felt like with my friend staying at my home — a quiet unfolding of intimacy, woman to woman. There were moments we paused, looked at each other, and realized how rare this kind of connection feels in adult life. How sacred. And how, despite its scarcity, it feels more necessary than ever.

The deepest human truth is that we fundamentally need to give and receive love. We are biologically and psychologically programmed for connection and belonging – this is what gives life meaning. But love manifests itself in different ways, and today I want to reflect on one of them, which society seems to do everything it can to delegitimize: sisterhood.

Society has long stickled sisterhood by sowing division between women through competition, comparison, and control — tactics that fragment rather than unify. From the historical demonization of female collectives as “witch covens” during the witch trials, to the glorification of rivalry in pop culture (like the archetypal “mean girl” trope or the Madonna-whore binary), women have been subtly and overtly taught to distrust one another.

Sadly, we still see many incentives for rivalry between women – such as sensationalist headlines that place successful women as threats to each other, reinforcing the idea that there is only room for one at the top. Even in the suffragette and feminist movements, white women were often pitted against black and indigenous women, revealing how systems of power exploit division to maintain supremacy. By turning mutual empowerment into a zero-sum game, society not only devalues sisterhood – it undermines one of the most potent forms of resistance and ancestral wisdom.

This fragmentation is not limited to the influence of the media or cultural stereotypes – it also infiltrates the feminist movement itself, where women have been (and still are) judged and excluded by other women for not fitting into narrow standards of what would be “acceptable feminism”.

Instead of promoting a truly inclusive and liberating vision, certain feminist discourses have come to monitor behavior, appearances and political positions – labeling as “less feminist” those who embrace motherhood, beauty rituals or heterosexual relationships, while others are excluded for being “too much”: too independent, too radical, too angry, too queer, too trans, too different. This binary and moralizing vision seems to penetrate all human institutions.

I myself, for example, have wondered if being too tidy would turn off the light of other women, or if wearing lipstick or taking care of my aesthetics would make me “less feminist”. But few things have taught me more about liberation than seeing women living their contradictions with courage and without apology.

When we’re young, so many of us learn to shrink ourselves to fit — into friendships, into beauty standards, into someone else’s idea of what being a “good girl” or even a “strong woman” looks like. We adapt, shape-shift, and silence parts of ourselves just to belong. But with experience — and a bit of healing, unlearning and self-awareness — we start to see the cost of this self-containment.

We realize that effective feminism cannot thrive in an environment that mimics the very control structures it claims to dismantle. A movement rooted in liberation cannot function through rigid rules, moral hierarchies, or purity tests. It must allow space for contradiction, for evolution, for imperfection. It must hold nuance — the kind that welcomes both softness and rage, motherhood and independence, lipstick and protest signs.

If it wants to serve all women, feminism needs to embrace the whole, chaotic and glorious spectrum of female experience. And that’s where the principles of sorority come in.

By drawing rigid lines around what is “true” feminism, we weaken the very thing that gives the movement its power: diversity of experience and thought. The real strength of our cause lies in radical unitynot uniformity — and unity cannot exist without love and mutual support. Only deep and intentional care through listening, holding space, standing up for one another even when our paths differ — can we build a movement rooted in resilience rather than rivalry. Sisterhood is not about sameness; it’s about solidarity.

But this kind of love, as I said before, is rare – because it requires more than performative solidarity. It demands presence, humility, and the willingness to put ego aside for the sake of something larger. And it is also revolutionary in a world that benefits from women being divided.

I feel compelled to write about this because I’ve been deeply moved and inspired by the women around me — both in my life and in the world. The inclusion of women in society (which, amazingly, is still a recent phenomenon!) are changing the redefinition of leadership, economic power, taboos and silences and narratives in culture and media. And the more I live, the more I realize how distinct and irreplaceable the love of sisterhood is. It brings a kind of joy, grounding, and connection that no other kind of love quite reaches — not romantic, not familial, not even friendship in its most generic sense. I feel incredibly lucky to be consciously cultivating this kind of bond with my sisters.

I believe that cultivating and nurturing sorority is not just a personal blessing – it is, in fact, a political act. And every time we choose to build, nurture and protect these bonds, we are strengthening something sacred, powerful and irreplaceable.

To the women in my life – thank you. Thank you for making space for me to be a human being in constant transformation. For witnessing my doubts without trying to fix them. For laughing with me until I cry at the silliest things. You remind me that I don’t have to earn belonging. That I am already home.

And if you too have felt this kind of love – even once – you know how transformative it is. So here’s something I’ve written not as fixed rules, but as living principles – reminders for all of us who want to cultivate these connections with more intention.

10 Principles of Sisterhood

1. Mutual support

Sisterhood is presence – emotional, practical, spiritual. It’s holding each other’s hand without judgment, offering encouragement in moments of doubt and celebrating achievements without comparison.

2. Empathy and active listening

A real sister listens to understand, not to respond. She honors the other’s truth, even when it differs from her own. In sisterhood, presence is worth more than performance.

3. Non-competition

Instead of seeing each other as rivals, sisters replace scarcity with abundance: “Your light does not extinguish mine.” Sorority flourishes in cooperation, not hierarchy.

4. Accountability with Compassion

Sisters challenge each other to grow – with love, but with honesty. They offer a mirror and an anchor, truth and tenderness. Criticism, when it exists, is born out of care – never control.

5. Shared wisdom

Sisterhood is intergenerational and lived in practice. It passes on knowledge – from menstrual rituals to professional advice, from broken hearts to spiritual tools – like an oral lineage of survival and flourishing.

6. Radical acceptance

You can be confused, loud, sweet, angry or uncertain. In sorority, the masks come off. Identity is not a performance.

7. Collective healing

Personal healing is political, and in sisterhood, it becomes communal. Whether it’s healing from patriarchy, trauma, body shame, or loneliness — sisterhood means: We rise together. We are here for one another.

8. Trust and security

There is no sisterhood without trust. Emotional safety is prioritized, boundaries are respected, and confidentiality is upheld. It’s a sacred space.

9. Celebrating differences

Sisterhood is not about being equal – it’s about standing alongside. It honors the multiplicity of womanhood (race, class, neurodivergence, sexuality, age, etc.) and commits to learning from it, not flattening it.

10. Reciprocity

There is a rhythm between giving and receiving. Nobody gives forever, nobody receives endlessly. Sisterhood flows because it is built on mutual generosity and conscious exchange.

If this spoke to you, consider sending it to a woman who has been part of your becoming — the one who listened, laughed, challenged, or loved you back to life. This is your way today to say: thank you. I’m here for you too.

From my heart to yours,