Why I Made the Didi Archetypes (A Silly-Serious Love Letter to How We’re Wired)

I’m one of five daughters (we were 4 until we found out about Michelle through 23&me… and I have five daughters (2 from my loins and 3 bonus). Yes: ten women that I have been surrounded by for the past 58 years of my life. I've spent a lifetime trying to figure out how to thrive (survive) amongst them clocking what moves them, what soothes them, and how each of them is gloriously, predictably different.

Recently I went on a women’s retreat and we sat around a fire with my brilliant Indian doctor friend who studies Ayurvedic types—fire, wind, earth. We had the best time trying to decide our core type and our wing type… but somewhere between pitta and vata (and did someone say kapha or was that the name of the tea?) the wind and the earth started arm-wrestling in my brain. Confusing? A little. Fun? Absolutely.

I loved how engaged everyone was. And since I am approximately one million miles from being a neurologist who studies ancient archetypes, I did what any marketing mom with a Canva account would do: I built my own set based on my experiences with the women that I mostly adore.

Based in NO science. Built on pure inquiry, sister observation, and a shocking amount of bitch fights.Ten types, inspired by my five sisters and my five daughters. (You’re welcome, world.)

Not Boxes—Breadcrumbs

These are not diagnostic tools. These are breadcrumbs back to yourself:

• What does my nervous system need to feel safe?

• What lights me up (besides hot coffee and low drama)?

• What drains me (even if it looks fantastic on Instagram)?

• How do I plan a day that fits me—and respect that yours might look different?

I think I identify as The Spark

When we name this stuff, we love better and fight smarter. We give the Nester her tea, the Trailblazer her ridge, the Sage her quiet hour, the Spark her dance break—and everyone lives to brunch another day.

The Didi Promise

At Didi Retreats we practice sisterhood, hospitality, and radical permission:

• Sisterhood: Your way gets room at the table, even if it’s not my way.

• Hospitality: Spaces that hold many nervous systems at once.

• Permission: No gold stars for suffering. Choose what serves you.

These archetypes shape arrival rituals, in-town add-ons, and those tiny “glimmer moments” that make you feel held (and occasionally giggly).

Meet the 10 (Lightning Round, with winks)

• The Alchemist — Make it into magic. Tea becomes ceremony; playlists become portals.

• The Guardian — Holder of the container. Calm, clear, prepared—clipboard with a heartbeat.

• The Healer — Release + restore. Breath, ocean, starlight—less “push,” more “ahhh.”

• The Mystic — Communion + insight. Candles, cards, night sky—messages, not migraines.

• The Nester — Cozy on purpose. Soft landings, slow mornings, smugly perfect socks.

• The Sage — Meaning is your map. Prompts, patterns, and timely “hmm.”

• The Savorist — Savor + presence. Slow bites, pretty tables, zero shame about seconds.

• The Seeker — Curiosity in motion. “Let’s see what’s down there”—probably tacos.

• The Spark — Party of light. Playlist on; strangers become circle-mates.

• The Trailblazer — Goal meets grit. If there’s a ridge, there’s a reason.

How to Play

1. Pick your postcard: One main vibe, maybe a wing. No pop quiz.

2. Spot your sisters: Help each other do the day right, not the same.

3. Mix the menu: Choose add-ons that match your wiring (temazcal or hammock? yes).

4. Take it home: Use the tiny integration prompts when real life shows up with laundry.

5. Final Word from the Fire

Ayurveda around the fire got me thinking; these cards help us keep thinking together—with more clarity, more comedy, and far fewer arguments about who stole the fuzzy blanket. If you see yourself here, good. If you see your sister here, better. The point isn’t to be right; it’s to be kind to how we’re each made.