The Porch Was Our Sanctuary: Reclaiming Wellness, Storytelling & Sisterhood in the Rural South
The porch swing is a timeless symbol of rest, reflection, and connection. It marks the return to spaces where stories were shared, healing began, and sisterhood thrived.
There was a time when the porch wasn’t just a place to sit—it was a sanctuary. In small Southern towns, the porch was our pulpit, our classroom, our therapist’s office, and our sister circle. I can still hear the creak of the swing and the hum of the cicadas, while women passed stories down like heirlooms and poured sweet tea and sacred wisdom in the same breath.
But somewhere along the way, we lost the porch. We lost the sacred spaces where we could show up without pretense. Where Mama-nem, Aunties, and Big Mamas wrapped our pain in prayer and our stories in silence.
This is what my senior friend shared as we took a lunch break from our daily work. We both exhaled a long sigh! After a long pause, I encouraged her to continue sharing. She said, "The world got louder. The burdens got heavier. And many women like myself moved to cities or got caught in the hustle of survival, or left to further our education. The porch got quieter. And in our minds, the sanctuary turned into storage”, and sadly, she added, "the circle broke."
We sat quietly in our chairs, sipping on what was left of our sweet tea and melting ice, each lost in our own world of thoughts. Then she blurted out, "But I believe we’re coming back."
The Reawakening
Across the South, I’ve seen something stirring. A quiet, steady return. Black women in small towns are reclaiming what was lost—not just land, but legacy. Not just healing for the body, but for the spirit. We are replanting ourselves with purpose.
Community Gardens: Where Healing Grows
In towns where the nearest grocery store might be thirty miles away, the earth is becoming our healer again. I’ve seen grandmothers and grandbabies side-by-side, digging into soil not just for food, but for peace. These gardens are not just plots; they are sacred spaces where grief is composted and healing is harvested.
“These gardens are not just plots; they are sacred spaces where grief is composted and healing is harvested.”
Healing looks like herbal tea grown out back. It looks like laughter during Saturday planting days and quiet reflections with hands in the dirt. In these gardens, women are re-rooting themselves in ancestral knowledge, in nourishment, and in each other.
Porch Talks and Soul Circles
We’re returning to the porch, but this time with intention. Women are gathering under the shade of front yards and back decks for what we now call Porch Talks. We bring folding chairs, fans, and journals. We bring joy and the ache of stories we’ve carried alone for too long.
These are not pity parties. They’re power circles. Women share stories of loss, betrayal, healing, and becoming. We cry. We laugh. We pour into one another. It’s therapy—without the couch or the co-pay.
Some of these circles are now being recorded—turned into podcasts, Reels, or private videos for others who are isolated to hear and know: You are not alone. Your story matters. You are still here.
Sisterhood as a Lifeline
Grace in motion. No judgment. Just arms wide open.
In small towns, everybody knows everybody, but that doesn’t always mean you feel seen. That’s changing. Sister circles are becoming safe spaces, intentionally created for women to be vulnerable, honest, and restored.
This isn’t about gossip. This is about grace. This is where women come when they don’t have the words. Where silence is held without judgment. Where someone says, “You’re not crazy. You’re healing. ”It’s where prayer and praise break out under open skies. It’s where teenage girls learn from wise women without lectures. Where secrets become testimonies, and shame is turned into strategy.
Spiritual Revival—Beyond the Church Walls.
There is a spiritual reawakening happening—and it’s not always on Sunday morning. Black women are gathering for sunrise prayer walks, backyard baptisms, journaling retreats, and scripture circles under the stars. We’re not abandoning the church—we’re extending it. We are rediscovering that spiritual wellness is not a destination; it’s a daily practice. We are finding God in the garden, on the porch, in the sister circle, and in the stillness. We are reclaiming a faith that heals the whole woman.
A Vision Forward
What would it look like if every small Southern town had a Soul Porch—a space where women could show up, breathe, be heard, and heal?
“What if wellness wasn’t a luxury but a lifestyle rooted in our culture, our faith, and our community?”
That vision is not far off. It’s happening already, one porch at a time. I ask you to close your eyes and inhale deeply, let your lungs fill to capacity as your breath sits at the bottom of your stomach, now slowly let the air escape. Do it several times while you envision yourself sitting on the porch surrounded by women of diverse ages, hues, and descriptions sitting together in perfect harmony.
Closing Thought
We are returning to the places that first held us. The porch is more than wood and nails—it’s a womb of wisdom, a pulpit of peace, and now, a path to wellness for Black women reclaiming their joy, one story at a time.
