After the Wild: Finding Your Way Home Again
It always catches me off guard - that quiet emptiness that arrives after something so full, so alive, so extraordinary.
Coming home after a time of deep connection and expansion - for me, after leading our Maverick Mums Rewilding Adventure Retreat in Zimbabwe - is never simple. You return full of feeling, yet somehow hollow at the same time.
I keep looking around at the world - the grey drizzle, the supermarket aisles, the endless to-do lists - and it all feels slightly unreal. Like I’ve slipped back into a version of life that doesn’t quite fit anymore.
The Disbelief and the Come-Down
There’s this strange sense of disbelief. How can the world just carry on as normal when I’ve stood barefoot on the red earth at sunrise, heard elephants rumbling through the mist, and shared laughter, tears, and raw truth with a group of women who cracked my heart wide open?
Maybe you know that feeling too - when you come back changed, but everything around you feels the same.
And then there’s the come down. That hollow, heavy feeling where nothing quite makes sense. I’ve found myself walking around in a bit of a bubble - not really in the world, just observing it from a distance. Everything feels loud and rushed. Even the supermarket feels overwhelming.
What I want instead is silence. Trees. The smell of rain on the earth. Time with people I love, doing simple things that make me feel alive.
Even though I know it’s coming - and I try to prepare for it, because I’ve done this many times before - it still hits me hard. Reintegrating after something like this isn’t just about unpacking your bag or catching up on emails. It’s about finding a way to carry who you’ve become back with you.
“You can’t unsee what you’ve seen. You’re changed forever.”
Remembering What’s Real
People often say, “How’s it being back in the real world?” - but sometimes it feels like that other world, the one you touched while you were away, was more real. Because the one we’ve built - the one of rushing, scrolling, striving - often feels so far removed from what’s truly alive.
For a while, you were living differently. You were supported. You laughed, listened, connected - not through screens or small talk, but through something deeper and beautifully human.
And while I often crave solitude and quiet, I’ve found myself missing that sense of togetherness - that shared rhythm, that safety of being held in kindness and laughter. Back here, it’s easy to slip into independence again - everyone in their own bubble, surviving rather than feeling.
Heightened Senses, Tender Hearts
Lately, my senses have felt heightened - like the volume on life has been turned up too high. The world feels busy and sharp-edged, even though I’ve tried to shelter myself from it. I’ve eased back gently with cold-water swims, quiet walks with my dog, and time in nature - but it still feels like a lot.
Sometimes I feel lost. Like I don’t quite understand myself, or the world I live in, or where I belong in it anymore.
And then there’s this resistance that always comes up. I notice it when I think about going back over the photos and videos from the trip - part of me doesn’t want to look. It feels almost sacred, like that experience existed in its own perfect moment in time.
Maybe that’s because these kinds of moments do live outside of time. They change us from the inside out, and no post or picture can really capture that.
Maybe that’s part of the rewilding too - learning how to honour what was real and sacred, and still live fully in what is now.
Returning to the Feminine
As I’ve softened back into life here, I’ve noticed signs that I’m coming back into my feminine, back into my true self.
I’ve been exhausted. More emotional. I’ve cried easily - sometimes for no reason at all. I’ve been forgetful, dreamy, distracted - in my own little world. And oddly, I’ve found a kind of peace in that.
Maybe you’ve felt that too - that strange mix of fragility and freedom that comes after you’ve peeled back all the layers.
You can also feel much more sensitive after something like this - because you’ve stopped numbing yourself. You’ve been fully present, fully open, and that openness doesn’t just switch off when you get home.
It’s beautiful, but it can also feel incredibly vulnerable. The world feels louder, faster, harsher. You might find yourself craving softness and quiet. But that’s not a sign that something’s wrong - it’s a sign that something’s right.
It means you’ve come back to your body. You’re feeling again. You’ve remembered what it is to live from your heart, your intuition, your feminine energy - the part of you that doesn’t push or perform but listens, senses, and moves gently.
When Others Don’t Understand
Sometimes, this shift can be confronting for other people. Not everyone will understand what you’ve experienced - and some simply won’t want to.
Your joy, softness, or sense of peace can trigger something in others - perhaps a longing, or discomfort with their own disconnection.
I’ve seen it and felt it - people changing the subject, brushing it off, or subtly taking the wind out of your sails. It can sting. But I’ve learned that it’s not about me. It’s just that when you’ve touched something deep and real, it shines a light that not everyone is ready to see.
You don’t need everyone to understand. What matters is that you keep tending the spark within you.
Gratitude and Guilt Can Co-Exist
And yet, even with that awareness, I still notice another layer - the guilt that creeps in when I start to feel low or restless or like life isn’t enough. The voice that whispers, “You should be grateful. You have so much.”
And I am grateful - deeply. But gratitude and sadness can exist side by side. Feeling flat or disoriented doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful; it means you’ve opened so wide that now you’re recalibrating.
You’ve tasted something expansive and meaningful, and it’s natural for ordinary life to feel small in comparison for a while.
Once you’ve seen and felt a different way of being - more connected, slower, freer - it’s impossible to go back to living disconnected. You can’t unsee what you’ve seen. You’re changed forever.
And that’s where the work really begins - not in the wilderness, but back here.
Living What You’ve Learned
I’ve learned that small, simple rituals help: journaling, listening to a familiar playlist, walking barefoot, swimming in cold water, or revisiting the meditations that bring you back to that still, grounded place inside.
And sometimes, though not always, big decisions are born from this space - because clarity comes when you strip everything back.
For some, it might mean ending a relationship, selling a house, simplifying life, or changing direction entirely. For others, it’s a quieter realisation - the need for more space, more honesty, more joy.
These experiences create a pause - a rare, honest moment where you can truly see what’s working and what isn’t. Without all the noise, you remember what really matters. And from that place, you can make brave, aligned choices.
That might also mean giving yourself space for regular resets - moments that bring you back to yourself. For me, it’s time in nature, cold water, movement, stillness, and community. It’s those small reminders of what really matters.
Integration and the Real Work
This phase can feel messy or emotional, but it’s all part of coming home to yourself - the softer, slower, truer version that doesn’t need to prove or strive.
The one that feels instead of fixes. The one that knows that being open and alive sometimes hurts, but that it’s worth it every time.
So when I start to feel untethered, I ask myself a few simple questions - maybe they’ll help you too:
How have you been feeling since coming home?
What do you find yourself missing most about that time away?
What feels most important to carry forward from the experience into your everyday life?
What might help you reconnect with that “rewilded,” feminine version of yourself this week?
Maybe the ache we feel isn’t a problem to fix, but a reminder to listen more deeply. To slow down. To bring a little of that wildness home with us — in the way we breathe, walk, love, and live.
Because maybe this is the work now: not to return to who we were before, but to stay awake to who we became.
The Secret to Rewilding Yourself
And so, the secret to rewilding yourself in real life is to step into the energy of the version of yourself you unleashed on retreat - to unapologetically claim your space, to honour your authentic self, and to allow your next level to unfurl.
Are you being called by the spirit of The Rewilding? 🌍💫
About the Author
Rhiannon Sully–Newman is the founder of Maverick Mums. She leads Maverick Mums Rewilding Adventure Retreats and outdoor experiences that help women reconnect with themselves, nature, and their sense of wild aliveness.
Join the Next Adventure
If this reflection resonates and something inside you is calling for your own reset, there are still spaces on the Maverick Mums Rewilding Adventure Retreat in Zimbabwe, September 2026.
Or, if you’d simply like to have a no-obligation chat about whether this kind of experience might be right for you right now, I’d love to connect. 💚
And if you know someone who could benefit from an experience like this, please share it.
The more women who reconnect with their true selves, the more we can change the world together. 🌿
Find out more about the Zimbabwe Rewilding Adventure 2026 trip here.