I find it interesting that some of my favorite stories have always been centered around women talking to one another. Liberation. Sex and the City. Gilmore Girls. Shows where, if nothing else, the characters could sit around a table, share their lives, make each other laugh, tell each other the truth, and somehow get through another day together. I have always been drawn to those relationships, and, if I'm being honest, a little envious of them.

There is something about the bonds women often form with one another that I find both beautiful and extraordinary. There can be a depth of honesty, intimacy, humor, and emotional support that men are not always taught to cultivate with each other. We certainly have our friendships, but many of us were raised to keep certain things to ourselves, to solve our problems alone, or to mistake vulnerability for weakness.

That is one of the reasons I wanted to direct Steel Magnolias. At its heart, this is a play about a community of women who have created a place where they can be fully human. They tease one another. They argue. They gossip. They give unsolicited advice. They sometimes hurt one another. And they love one another fiercely. Most importantly, when one of them is in crisis, the others show up.

And perhaps that is what speaks to me most deeply about this play right now. We live in a time when it can feel as though the challenges facing us are larger than any one person can possibly overcome. We are increasingly divided, increasingly isolated, and often encouraged to see one another as opposing sides rather than as members of the same community. In times like these, friendship is not a small thing. Community is not a luxury. We need people who know us, support us, challenge us, make us laugh, and, when necessary, simply sit beside us when there are no words.

The women of Truvy's beauty shop understand this instinctively. They have created a little community where there is room for joy and sorrow, for strength and fear, for celebration and grief. They understand that sometimes the most profound act of love is simply to stay. I think we need more of that. We need places where we can put down our armor. We need people who will tell us the truth and still love us afterward. We need friends who will laugh with us when life is ridiculous and hold us when it is unbearable. And we need communities willing to remind us that none of us is meant to navigate this life entirely alone.

Steel Magnolias is funny. It is deeply Southern. It is sometimes outrageous. It is also profoundly heartbreaking. But underneath all of it is a simple and powerful idea:

We are stronger when we have one another.

It has been my privilege to spend time with these remarkable characters and with the remarkable actors who are bringing them to life. I hope that as you watch them laugh, fight, celebrate, and grieve together, you might think about the communities in your own life. And perhaps, when the lights come up, you will be reminded to call someone you love. Because sometimes showing up for one another is the most important thing we can do.