Your Wellness Journey Is Stuck: Community Is Not a Task

By Asha Wilkerson

Most advice on finding community in a wellness journey is bullshit. I say this as a former attorney and professor who followed all the rules. I built the “successful” life, got the accolades, and still felt like I was dying inside. When the advice industry told me to “find my tribe,” it felt like another exhausting task on an already endless to-do list. Another thing to achieve. Another way to perform.

Finding community in a wellness journey isn't about joining another group or adding a social club to your schedule. It’s about seeking spaces where you don’t have to perform well-being, but can be witnessed in your exhaustion and transition. For high-achieving women, especially Black women and women of the African diaspora, this means finding a container built on shared experience and safety, where you can regulate your nervous system and finally come home to yourself without explanation.

Why Your Gym “Family” Isn’t a Real Community

Let’s be honest. The "community" sold by most of the wellness industry is based on performance. It’s about shared goals, accountability for workouts, and comparing progress. It’s your gym buddy who texts you at 5 a.m. or the yoga studio where everyone looks great in their Lululemon gear. This isn’t community; it’s a team. And for the high-achieving woman who has spent her life performing on teams—at work, in her family, in society—it’s just more of the same draining energy.

These environments often foster a subtle, toxic positivity. There’s no room for the days when the wheels fall off. There’s no space to say, “I’m not okay, and I don’t know why.” When someone is managing a chronic illness, recovering from burnout, or navigating deep grief, "good vibes only" is not just unhelpful; it’s isolating. A study by the University of Bath found that pressure to be happy can, paradoxically, make people feel worse. True community holds space for the entire spectrum of human experience, not just the Instagrammable highlights.

The wellness industry sells you accountability partners. What you really need is a circle of witnesses—people who can see your exhaustion without trying to fix it.

This is a critical distinction. Accountability partners push you to do more. Witnesses give you permission to finally be. For many of the women I work with, this is the first time they’ve ever been in a room where they didn't have to explain why they're so tired. They just are, and that’s enough.

Community Isn’t a Concept; It’s a Biological Imperative

Feeling disconnected isn't just in your head. It’s in your body. Our nervous systems are wired for connection. We are constantly, subconsciously reading the cues from others to determine if we are safe. This is called co-regulation. When we are around people who feel safe, our own nervous system settles down. This is why a hug from the right person can feel so profoundly calming.

The lack of this connection has devastating physical consequences. A poor quality of social relationships is linked to a higher risk of cardiovascular disease and high blood pressure, chronic inflammation, and even cancer. We are living through an epidemic of loneliness. A 2020 Cigna report revealed that three in five Americans feel lonely, a number that has likely only grown.

Your wellness journey—whether it’s managing stress, healing from burnout, or processing trauma—cannot fully succeed in isolation. You can’t meditate your way out of a biological need for human connection. Reading books and listening to podcasts helps you understand your situation, but it’s in community that the healing becomes integrated. It’s in the shared breath, the knowing glance, the collective sigh of relief, that your body finally learns it’s safe enough to let go.

The Difference Between a Group and a Healing Container

A group forms around a shared interest, like a book club or a hiking meetup. A healing container is built with a shared intention for safety and transformation. This is especially vital for those who have been marginalized by mainstream wellness spaces. For Black women and women of the African diaspora, finding a space where you don’t have to code-switch or explain your lived reality is not a luxury; it’s a necessity.

Spaces that are not designed with this in mind can cause more harm. According to Mental Health America, Black adults are more likely to report persistent symptoms of emotional distress, yet historical and systemic barriers make it harder to find culturally competent care and truly safe spaces.

A healing container is different. It has clear boundaries. It’s facilitated by someone who has walked the path and understands the terrain. It’s a space, like the one we’ve cultivated here in Lisbon, Portugal, where women from the US, the UK, and across the globe can come and just be. It’s where our community gatherings aren't about networking but about nervous system nourishment. This intentionality is everything. It’s the difference between being a participant in an activity and being held in a process.

But What If I’m an Introvert or Don’t Want to Share?

I see you. If you’re already exhausted, the idea of having to ‘be on’ with new people can feel like the last thing you want to do. Many women who come to me are deeply introverted or have social anxiety. They’ve been protecting their energy for so long that opening up feels dangerous.

Here’s the counterintuitive truth: the right community doesn’t drain your energy; it restores it. This is because you aren’t performing. You don’t have to be witty, or insightful, or even verbal. In the containers I create, some of the most profound moments happen in silence, simply being in a room with others who get it.

Belonging isn’t about becoming an extrovert. It’s about finding a place where your quiet is as welcome as your voice. You get to choose your level of participation. Maybe for the first few times, you just listen. Maybe you keep your camera off in an online gathering. A true healing community honors your boundaries and respects your pace. It meets you where you are, not where it thinks you should be.

This is why we focus on integrating gentle movement and other healing practices that don’t rely solely on talking. Somatic work, breathwork, and sound healing allow for connection and release on a pre-verbal level. Your body gets to communicate even when you don’t have the words.

Your healing journey needs a home. Not just a plan, not just a set of practices, but a place to land. Finding community isn't another box to check in your quest for self-improvement. It is the act of coming home to yourself, witnessed and held by others who are on the same path. It’s the permission you’ve been waiting for to finally set the weight down.

Further reading

• How to Find Your Community to Support Your Health Journey
• Creating Connections: The Essential Role of Community in ...
• The Power Of Connection: How To Find A Gym Community
• Finding community

Frequently Asked Questions

What's the first step to finding a community if I'm an introvert?

Start small and observational. Look for online groups or local studios that allow you to just listen in or attend a class without pressure to interact. Notice the language the facilitator uses. Does it feel inclusive and permission-giving? Your first step isn’t to talk; it’s to find a space where you feel safe enough to be silent.

How is an online community different from an in-person one?

Online communities offer accessibility and can be a great first step, especially if you live in an area with limited options or have social anxiety. In-person communities provide a different level of connection through physical presence and co-regulation that can’t be fully replicated online. Many people benefit from a hybrid approach—using online spaces for consistent connection and in-person retreats or gatherings for deeper immersion.

What if I join a group and it doesn't feel right?

Trust that feeling. Not every community is the right one for you. A key part of this journey is learning to listen to your intuition. If a space feels competitive, cliquey, invalidating, or performative, it’s not serving you. It’s brave to leave a space that isn't a good fit. That act is a profound practice of self-trust.

How can community help with burnout specifically?

Burnout is often a result of chronic stress and a feeling of isolation. Community combats this directly by providing co-regulation to calm your nervous system and emotional validation that reminds you you’re not alone. Hearing others voice the same struggles you thought were your personal failings is one of the most powerful antidotes to the shame that fuels burnout.

Why is it important for Black women to find specific healing spaces?

Mainstream wellness culture can be alienating and often ignores the unique stressors of navigating the world as a Black woman. Culturally specific spaces provide a shorthand of understanding. You don’t have to explain microaggressions, code-switching, or the weight of ancestral and systemic trauma. It creates a baseline of safety that allows for deeper, more vulnerable healing to occur.

Do I have to share my whole story to be part of a community?

You never have to share more than you feel comfortable with. A safe community doesn't demand your trauma as the price of admission. True belonging comes from being accepted as you are, right now. Your presence is enough. Vulnerability is a gradual process, and you are always in control of what you share.

How does community support a long-term wellness journey?

Wellness isn’t a destination; it’s a lifelong practice of returning to yourself. Motivation will fade. Life will happen. A supportive community acts as an anchor. It’s the place you can return to when the wheels fall off again. It’s the collective that reminds you of your own strength and resilience when you’ve forgotten.