When “Real Roots” Feels More Like Plastic Plants

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 I recently went to a women’s friendship meetup through Real Roots, and let me tell you — I expected genuine connection, not a sociological experiment in economic disparity.

The concept sounds lovely: curated circles of “like-minded women” seeking meaningful friendship. The reality? A chaotic mash-up of wildly different lifestyles shoved together under the banner of “shared values.”

Half the women there flat-out said they wouldn’t be coming back. One woman — who’s apparently been through six rounds of this “journey” — hasn’t found a single lasting connection. If someone’s done this six times with no results, maybe the issue isn’t her. Maybe it’s the soil you’re planting in.

The group dynamic was an exercise in whiplash. On one end were women saying, “I can’t afford to keep doing this, it’s too expensive.” On the other, women casually mentioning how they’re taking 4-6 months off work “just to reset.” Meanwhile, I’m sitting there wondering how I can form an authentic connection when half the table is talking about spiritual sabbaticals and the other half is counting quarters for the parking meter.

If you’re going to call it Real Roots, maybe start by considering actual reality — financial, lifestyle, emotional. Don’t sell people on “deep connection” and then throw together folks whose lived experiences exist on entirely different planets.

When your model assumes everyone has the same disposable income, schedule flexibility, and access to self-care retreats, you’re not building roots — you’re arranging decorative plastic plants and calling it nature.

So here’s my free advice, Real Roots:

  • Match based on more than interests. Context matters.

  • If half your participants aren’t returning, that’s a red flag, not a fluke.

  • When someone can attend six full rounds and still come up empty, it’s time to admit the potting mix is wrong.

Connection is supposed to be grounding. But this? This was a networking event with better lighting and worse cocktails.

Sometimes, real roots grow in messy, imperfect, honest soil — not in curated circles that pretend class and context don’t exist.

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