Here we go again!
Wow, okay, so it’s been a minute, and you might be wondering who I am, how you got here, and what the heck is Covvn. Most of you have been here since Pchy, and some of you have been reading my newsletters for years. But most likely, you found me through Pchy, so let’s talk about it.
When I was considering launching Pchy in late 2023, I had read the statistics about how many startups fail. I had read that 70% of tech startups will fail either because they run out of cash, they don’t have the right team, or they never prove their product-market fit. I had also read about women-led startups and how they only receive 2% of the VC funding and have a harder time against white cis tech bros building AI companies.
I didn’t believe it. I thought for sure the statistics wouldn’t apply to me. I knew that Pchy would make it.
I was wrong. Pchy failed.
I ran out of money, couldn’t build a team, and couldn’t build a product. It was devastating. I poured so much of myself into it, and when it didn’t work, I felt grief that I didn’t know how to name. My whole body hurt. I was my most fragile since getting sober in 2017. But the beauty of that is, no matter how painful, I never wanted to drink over it. So that’s saying something.
I’ve come to believe that some things fall apart so better things can find us.
After losing Pchy and losing myself in the process, I decided it would be best to get a job. My bank account also suggested that I get a job. It was a saving-grace kind of gig that I thought could maybe mean the rest of my career. I was excited. I was qualified. I was ready to be an employee again.
I was wrong. I quit that job after a year.
Nonprofits can breed burnout simply by their nature. This job, in particular, was a toxic sludge mess of miscommunication, competition, favoritism, incompetence, and some old-school 90s small-city bureaucracy.
The good that came out of that job was the friendships I made with amazing women. My coven. We connected through creativity, collaboration, encouragement, community, and a deep friendship I’ve waited, in many ways, to find for a long time. It’s not easy making new friends in adulthood in your hometown that you left for twenty years. But here we are.
We created Covvn.
The Covvn newsletter is for millennial women in transition, reinvention, or revolt.
We share stories, reflections, and resources for making big changes, finding your voice, and building a life that feels like yours. It’s part personal, part magical, and always rooted in us.
If this isn’t your vibe, feel free to unsubscribe. But if you stick around, you’ll hear from us every Wednesday as we build this little Covvn of ours.
We’re happy you’ve joined us.
P.S. Hit the message button if you want to ask questions or talk about it.
What we’re stirring up this week:
Who Will Inherit the Empty Towns?
🕯️The Coven at Work: How to build a safe circle in unsafe systems (download a toolkit!)
🍓Spell of the Week: Sweeten the Self
Who Will Inherit the Empty Towns?
I just got back from a road trip with my mom. Spokane to La Conner, through Whidbey Island, down to Mukilteo with pit stops in North Bend and Issaquah. All the hallmarks of a perfect Pacific Northwest escape: trees, water, coffee, quirky towns. But something felt off.
Everywhere we went, the same crowd showed up: older, wealthy Boomers. Retired or semi-retired. Owners of immaculate homes and second homes. Out to brunch. Complaining about prices. Hovering on sidewalks and shop doorways. Talking at people, not with them. Treating servers like furniture.
There was this strange weight to it all, like these towns had been overtaken, polished, and hollowed out. Wealth everywhere, but little warmth. Ownership without community. Consumption without care. And it left us wondering: What happens when they die?
What becomes of these beautiful but gutted towns lined with galleries, empty boutiques, and $1M homes that no young family can afford?
Boomers hold the lion’s share of generational wealth. But much of that wealth is tied up in real estate, often in places that no longer serve the living. These towns aren’t built for nurses, baristas, or artists. There’s no space for teachers or grocery clerks. The businesses are aging out, the buildings are fragile, and the next generation doesn’t want to live in a place where they can’t afford to belong. And yet, we’re here.
Watching this slow shift unfold. A generation centered in every narrative now struggling with what it means to matter less.
A generation coming up—US—asking better questions about stewardship, community, equity, and what gets left behind.
This is the space COVVN was born for. We’re here for the rebuilders. The reimaginers. The ones who look around at the curated emptiness and ask:
• What does real legacy look like?
• What makes a place truly livable?
• What would it mean to build systems rooted in care?
This isn't just about boomers or buildings, it’s about how we hold power, how we release it, and how we rebuild what was never really made for us in the first place. So yes, we saw the cracked veneer of wealth on that road trip. But underneath it? We also felt a spark: it’s our turn.
🕯️ The Coven at Work: How to Build a Safe Circle in Unsafe Systems
The Coven at Work: How to Build a Safe Circle in Unsafe Systems
Let’s be honest. Most workplaces are not safe.
Even the ones that look good on paper. Mission-driven, nonprofit, female-led can be emotionally unpredictable, unsupportive, and exhausting. If you’re reading this, there’s a good chance you’ve worked somewhere that drained you. Maybe you’re there right now. Maybe you’re trying to make it work.
You’re in the right place.
We’re not here to tell you to manifest your dream job or quit and start a farm (unless you want to by which we would fully support and can we come visit). We’re here to talk about how to build something sacred and stabilizing inside of messy systems. A coven. A circle. A container of trust.
Because sometimes you can’t fix the system. But you can find each other.
What is a workplace coven?
It’s not a clique. It’s not a secret Slack channel to complain about your boss (though let’s be real, that might be part of it). A workplace coven is a safe circle of colleagues who see each other fully. Who support each other’s growth. Who understands the difference between venting and spiraling. Who celebrates your wins and reminds you who you are when the system is trying to shrink you.
Think of it as a personal board of directors for your soul. A group of peers who help you stay grounded, curious, and brave.
Why it matters
If you are a woman, especially a woman of color, queer, trans, disabled, or neurodivergent, you already know that workplaces were not designed with you in mind. You’ve probably been asked to hold too much and speak too little. To smile more. To work through the weekend. To not take things personally.
Burnout is not a personal failure. It’s the body’s way of saying “This system is not sustainable.” A coven helps you hold the truth of that while also finding moments of joy, resistance, and care.
How to build your coven
You don’t need permission. You just need intention.
Here’s how to start:
1. Look for warmth, not status
The best coven members might not be the most senior or the loudest in meetings. They’re the ones who check in after a rough day. Who shares snacks. Who remembers your dog’s name. Emotional intelligence over office politics, every time.
2. Start small and slow
Begin with one or two people. Invite them to lunch or coffee or a walk. Talk about the realities of work. Ask how they are really doing. See if there’s resonance. A coven is built through trust, not scheduling.
3. Create rituals
Maybe it’s a weekly check-in. Maybe it’s a “green, yellow, red” text thread to share how your energy is. Maybe it’s pulling a tarot card in the break room. Or taking a walk at lunch to avoid the toxic break room. The point is to make space that feels grounding and regular.
4. Practice sacred witnessing
Sometimes you’ll want advice. Sometimes you’ll want to scream. Sometimes you’ll want to sit in silence and breathe. A coven learns to ask: “What kind of support do you need today?” You don’t need to fix each other. You just need to hold space.
5. Set boundaries with care
A coven is not codependency. It’s not gossip disguised as closeness. You don’t have to share everything. You get to say no. You get to protect your peace. Your coven should make you feel lighter, not weighed down.
When the system pushes back
Here’s the hard truth. Not every workplace will welcome this kind of connection. Systems that thrive on control will often try to isolate people. They’ll call it cliquey. They’ll question your professionalism. They’ll treat solidarity as a threat.
That’s why it matters so much.
Your coven is not just a support system. It’s a quiet form of revolution. It is how we survive workplaces that were not built for us. And maybe, just maybe, it is how we begin to change them.
From us to you
We made a downloadable toolkit to help you start your own workplace coven. It includes conversation starters, energy check-in templates, and a few tiny spells for protection and clarity.
We hope it helps you find your people and keep them close.
Access the Coven Toolkit Here ✨💫⭐️
🍓 Sweeten the Self Spell
Purpose:
To cultivate self-love, gratitude, and personal abundance under the Strawberry Moon.
Timing:
The full moon in June, known as the Strawberry Moon, reaches its peak on Wednesday, June 11, 2025, at 3:44 a.m. EDT. Named for the seasonal ripening of strawberries, this moon reminds us that sweetness arrives through time and tending.
Perform this ritual on the night of June 11, or within two days before or after. The moon’s presence will linger. You do not need to be exact, only present.
You Will Need:
3 fresh strawberries
1 pink candle (or white, if that's what you have)
A small dish or plate
Pen and paper
A comfortable, quiet space
Ritual Steps
1. Prepare Your Space
Cleanse your area in whatever way you practice. Smoke, water, sound, breath.
Set the candle in the center of your dish. Place the strawberries around it.
2. Set Your Intention
On paper, write one quality or action you’re proud of, something you’ve grown through or into.
Fold the paper and place it beneath the dish.
3. Light the Candle
As you light the flame, speak aloud:
“Under this moon, I witness what I’ve become. I soften toward myself. I sweeten what surrounds me.”
4. Sit + Receive
Gaze at the candle. Breathe. Imagine moonlight filling the room, wrapping around your body like warm water.
Let it soften your edges. Let yourself feel full.
5. Taste the Fruit
Eat the strawberries slowly. Let them remind you of sweetness earned through patience.
6. Close the Ritual
When ready, extinguish the candle.
Keep the folded paper somewhere safe (a pocket, a drawer, an altar) as a reminder of your season.
🌀 Optional Additions
Play a song that makes you feel at home in your body
Hold rose quartz or moonstone for softness and emotional clarity
Walk under the moonlight, barefoot if you can
With love and moonlight,
Covvn
I’m a Boomer and this resonates strongly with me. I live in Spokane and am part of a Coven of our own—women from my age (retired and 64) down to women in their mid thirties with young babies. We meet monthly and have an online chat where we ask questions, provide support and yes, kvetch on occasion. Covens rock. Best of luck.