There’s something I’ve been sitting with lately, and if I’m being honest, it’s a little uncomfortable to say out loud. But I don’t do anything halfway, so here we are.

I’ve spent the last five years building this community intentionally. Not casually, not as a hobby, but with real time, real energy, and real financial investment. Thousands of dollars later, what we’ve built is undeniable. I see it every time I host an event. Without fail, a new mom will pull me aside and tell me that this community changed her life. And every time, I go home, open my laptop, and keep building.

But there’s another side to this that I don’t talk much about.

At some point, community stops being supported and starts being subsidized. And the truth is, I’ve been carrying more of that weight than I should. There is a difference between leading something and quietly funding it, emotionally and financially, while others benefit from it.

Because how do we have over a thousand women in this community, but only a small fraction show up? How do events feel full in conversation but not in attendance? How are we RSVPing and then not coming? These are not small questions, and they deserve honest reflection.

And to be clear, this isn’t just about us. This is a well-documented pattern in community behavior. The 90–9–1 rule, introduced by Jakob Nielsen, shows that in most communities, ninety percent of people observe, nine percent engage occasionally, and one percent carry the majority of the participation. What’s important is that this ratio doesn’t meaningfully change as a group grows. Whether there are one hundred people or ten thousand, the same small percentage is doing the work.

Platforms like Facebook Groups, Reddit, and Slack have reinforced this pattern over time. Smaller communities tend to have higher engagement per person, while larger communities generate more content but significantly less participation. In practice, that means most people feel connected to something, but very few are actively contributing to it.

There is also a psychological dynamic at play known as social loafing. In larger groups, individuals naturally feel less personal responsibility to act. There is an assumption that someone else will respond, someone else will show up, someone else will contribute. And over time, that assumption creates a gap between what a community feels like and what it actually requires to function.

So when I look at a community of over a thousand members where no one is stepping forward to host free events, where most outreach is driven by selling rather than supporting, where Anniversary tickets move slowly, and where there is little collective investment in building Held & Rooted, I don’t see failure. I see a participation gap.

I also see something else. I see moms outside of Orange County that are responding differently. Places where women are actively looking for this kind of support, where they understand that it doesn’t exist without effort, and where there is a willingness to engage, not just observe. That contrast is clarifying.

Not everything will be for everyone, and not everyone will come into what’s next. That is part of building something real.

But if this community has meant something to you, if you have benefited from it in any way, then this is a moment to be honest with yourself about your role in it. Are you simply present, or are you participating in a way that helps sustain it?

Because what comes next will be built differently. More intentionally. More sustainably. And in alignment with the people who are ready to contribute to what they say they value.

This has always been bigger than Orange County. The question is who is ready to treat it that way.

Always Have, Always Will ~ Kalie