There are hair salons and day spas and tubs full of bubbles, but what happens at Reprieve Wellness is real “me time,” says founder Culeta Hendricks. “So often, women feel responsible for everything around them. When you’re in an environment that’s tranquil, you are not responsible for anything there. Your mind can slow down.
“In the stillness of quiet, you cleanse your spirit,” she continues. And sometimes tears even flow, because you’ve stopped trying to distract yourself from what’s buried in your heart.
Women come to Reprieve looking for solitude—a place where they can read or pray or hear themselves think—or for company, camaraderie, and stress release. They mention the usual stressors—burdensome jobs, the need of a job, problems with children. “But the stories I most often hear are about past experiences in life,” says Hendricks. “Things that happened to them when they were children that they never let go, that they hold onto emotionally. They’re looking for closure and release. So we talk a lot about healing from the inside.”
The idea of creating this sort of sanctuary came to Hendricks years ago, when her own life was in turmoil and she was going to Christian bookstores just to get a little respite from her troubles. As soon as she’d resolved the chaos, she felt something akin to a Facebook poke coming from on high: “Now that your life is straightened out, I gave you something to do…”
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Hendricks found space in a building at 6614 West Florissant and opened Reprieve. She also works full time, but at least she isn’t married and doesn’t have kids: “Sometimes I’m grateful, and sometimes I’m teary-eyed about it. But I can go home and take a nap.”
Besides, it buoys her energy every time someone comes to Reprieve. Welcoming the guest inside, she says, “Exhale. Let go. You have arrived.”
Tight shoes are traded for footies. Laughter bubbles up. And when it’s time to leave, the newcomer doesn’t want to go.
“I use Reprieve for business launches, photo shoots, book signings, mentoring meetings with teens, small birthday parties, baby showers, Girls Nights Out and pillow talk sessions,” says Tina Adams-Turnipseed, an event planner who runs a networking group for black women. “I find it the best place to just get away and forget about your worries and stress. The first thing you hear when women enter the venue is ooohs and ahhs about how beautiful it is. It puts you into an instant state of relaxation.”
There’s a massage table, a prayer room, a reading nook. Gospel karaoke’s the first Friday of every month, and a gospel music fundraiser's upcoming. There are meetings for women who work in ministry and want to meet away from the church, someplace where they can be transparent with each other. Or for women who want to write a book, or are grieving, or just want to watch a movie together.
The first-Tuesday support group is women-only, Hendricks says, “but the whole family’s welcome at events. And men have been asking me for over a year now, ‘What about us?’”
That made her reflect a bit.
“We’re healing, we’re getting better, but we’re not taking our husbands and boyfriends along with us,” she says. “And it’s getting off balance.” Playing soft jazz and lighting candles when your husband comes home from work is a start, but there are all sorts of expectations tied to a romantic atmosphere. Guys can only really relax when they’re someplace free of any obligations—and in those settings, a football game’s usually blaring.
“They need peace, too.”
