A reminder that sisterhood, not perfection, is what keeps us laughing.

Most of my Uber rides begin the same way — with the comforting scent of someone else’s good intentions. Pine trees, essential oils, or vanilla-scented ambition hanging from the rearview mirror. It’s part of the unspoken contract between driver and passenger: you handle the music, I’ll handle the smell.

But this particular night in Palm Springs was different.

Three girlfriends and I were on our annual Girl Trip — the most sacred of female rituals. A pilgrimage of laughter, cocktails, and conversation. Five days of letting our hair down and remembering who we are when we’re not holding everyone else’s world together.

We’d arrived that morning, already in full nesting mode: groceries ordered, fridge stocked, wine chilled, and couches claimed. By sundown, the familiar debate had begun — Are we staying in or going out? At our age, the window between “ready to rally” and “let’s just wear robes” closes fast.

So we did what women do best — made coffee infused cocktails, turned up Trap Queen, and transformed what could have been a literal snooze fest in front of Dateline to an evening to remember.

Uber #1 took us to a bar with a line too long and music too loud. We gave it five minutes before one of my girls said what we were all thinking, “We aren’t getting any younger!” and we agreed we were too old and too wise for that nonsense.

Uber #2 landed us somewhere better — Kitchen 86 — good food, good music, and 90% women, everywhere. Women laughing, dancing, talking, living. I sat back, watching a dance floor full of energy and joy and thought, We really do bring the fun.

Because we do.

We bear the children—fun.

We laugh until we cry—fun.

Even our gossip comes with commentary, backstories, and a dash of detective work—fun.

Spending time with women reminds me just how remarkable we are. We find humor in the awkward, comfort in the chaos, and meaning in the mess.

Uber #3 brought us back down to earth — or at least into a car that smelled like the earth after a long, sweaty hike. Chris, our driver, was kind and chatty, blissfully unaware of the BO tsunami that emanated from him. I was the first to dive headfirst into the backseat only to be immediately smacked in the face with our predicament. Everyone else caught the scent that wafted out the open doors and they were more hesitant to climb in, each clearly weighing their life choices. The last one — our most scent-sensitive — lingered outside, pretending her hip hurt while waiting for the window to roll down.

When we finally reached our destination after what felt like 10 minutes under water, we busted out of the car and busted up laughing. Which, if you think about it, is its own kind of joy.

Then I got the familiar “ding” on my phone…

“Rate and tip your driver.”

Cue the moral dilemma. No seriously – what do I do? I couldn’t figure out how to make kind and honest go hand in hand here. I still haven’t decided.

But here’s what I have decided: women need other women.

We need these nights — the cocktails, the laughter, the ridiculous stories we’ll retell forever. The freedom to be loud, loose, and completely ourselves.

Women make life fun. We make it beautiful, complicated, and alive.

And if sometimes it smells a little funky along the way—well, that just turns into a great story you laugh about on the next trip.

So reach out to your tribe, take the trip, plan the girl night. Life is short – and these are the things that make it worth living.

In the meantime, keep your girls close… I’m designing a digital download — a blueprint for a fun, funny, and emotionally connecting night – so stay tuned!