The Weight of Hope: Notes to a Former Self and Learning to Ask for the Map 🗺️🦋

Wander Women: Feature #3

Most people travel to escape their lives. For Sara, the journey has been about finally being present enough to live one.

Before she was a leader in the recovery community and a "Wander Woman" exploring mountain ranges with her son, Sara was defined by a different kind of gravity. It was the weight of IV drug use, homelessness, and a paralyzing fear of failure. She lived in the "caterpillar" phase, where the world felt small and the burden felt permanent.

Then came a single white butterfly—and a shift in perspective that changed everything.

Today, as the founder of Project White Butterfly, Sara leaves handwritten notes of hope for strangers to find, effectively writing the letters she once needed to hear herself. In just ten years, she has bridged the gap between a sidewalk and a corner office, but Sara is the first to remind you that it wasn't a leap—it was a slog. It was a decade of small, unglamorous, daily choices to stay present when the old gravity pulled hard. Her journey from addiction and bankruptcy to Executive Director is her strongest message: this isn't a miracle reserved for a lucky few; it’s a path built one brave, repetitive step at a time.

This is a story about the power of the village, the messy reality of solo parenting, and the freedom found when you finally stop carrying the world alone and simply ask for the map.

The Transformation: From Caterpillar to Butterfly 🦋

For Sara, the "weight" of the past wasn't just a memory; it was a physical gravity that once kept her paralyzed. Today, she navigates the world with a "weightless" truth that her former self would have found impossible to believe: that failure isn't a dead end, but a pivot point. "I was paralyzed with fear of failure in my previous life," she reflects. "Now I know failure is just an opportunity to find a better way."

This shift in perspective is the heartbeat of Project White Butterfly. It’s a mission built on the "meant to be" moments, delivered through handwritten notes and small butterfly beads left for strangers to find. But for Sara, the act of leaving these notes is a quiet, humble ritual of reconciliation. The very first notes she penned weren't just for the community—they were written to the Sara who was still in the thick of the struggle.

"The compassion in this work comes from the compassion I have extended to my previous self," she says. Every time she picks up a pen, she is speaking to the version of herself that was lost in addiction, homelessness, and bankruptcy. By healing her "old story," she provides a lifeline for others to start their own.

That impact often comes full circle in the most serendipitous ways. It isn't uncommon for Sara to be in a recovery meeting or out in the city and spot a white butterfly bead on a stranger’s keychain. While she often stays silent about being the founder, she loves to ask where they got it. The stories that follow—of a note found at "just the right time" or a phone call that finally connected someone to help—are a testament to the power of showing up. For Sara, seeing those beads is a moment to send a quiet thank you to her Higher Power, knowing that a single note can be the bridge between a "caterpillar" phase and a new life.

The Power of the Village: Leadership and the Solo Parent Juggle 🏠

While she is often viewed as a "Wonder Woman" for growing a non-profit into a $300k+ organization, Sara is the first to admit she struggles with the title. In fact, she’s still grappling with a persistent case of imposter syndrome. "I’m literally just out here winging it," she laughs, pointing out that she stepped into leadership without a formal background in business management or grant writing. The depths of her struggle to Certified Peer Supporter and Executive Director is her strongest message: “If I can do it, you can do it.”

The foundation of that success isn't just grit; it's a profound commitment to community. Sara lives by the mantra that the opposite of addiction is connection, a truth she learned first in 12-step rooms and later in the fields of harm reduction. "Asking for help is the one single most important thing I have done consistently," she says. Even when her instinct is to say "I got it," she catches herself, smiles, and says thank you instead—admitting that we never learn if we aren't willing to admit what we don't know.

That "village" philosophy extends far beyond the office of the Recovery Collective; it’s what keeps her grounded as a solo parent. Sara is refreshingly raw about the reality of the juggle, refusing to hide the grit behind a "Super Mom" cape. She is a woman who cries in the shower, eats her emotions, and leans on a close friend to "co-parent" their eight-year-old boys together. That 'village' philosophy didn't just appear out of thin air; Sara had to actively recruit it through the sheer bravery of being vulnerable first. She realized early on that she couldn't wait for a rescue—she had to build her own safety net by admitting she couldn't do it alone. By being the first to say 'I’m struggling,' she gave her parents, her friends, and her 'we' permission to step in, proving that the village is available to anyone willing to speak the truth.

For Sara, being a "human parent" is a deliberate choice. She is intentional about letting her son and her 16-year-old bonus daughter see the stress, the tears, and the anger. While some believe in shielding children from the struggle, Sara sees it as a missed opportunity for growth. "Older doesn't mean knowing everything," she notes, and by letting them witness her humanity, she teaches them how to navigate their own. By modeling that vulnerability—and practicing her own non-negotiable "reset" rituals like a heating pad, journaling, and a quiet morning cup of tea—she isn't just surviving; she’s teaching the next generation that it’s okay to be a work in progress.

The Enormity of Being Small: A New Way to Wander 🗺️

In her "old life," travel was a frantic search for stuff. It was about the shopping, the souvenirs, and the physical mementos she could bring home to prove she’d been somewhere. But in sobriety, the world has grown much larger while Sara has allowed herself to feel much smaller.

"I like to go to mountains because their enormity makes me feel small and insignificant," she explains. In a world of deadlines, budgets, and the heavy responsibilities of solo parenting, standing in the presence of awe-inspiring nature is her "reset" button. It brings her down to "right-size," a humbling reminder that "nothing you think is big is actually big. You are a speck in the Universe."

For Sara, travel isn't just a reward for her sobriety; it is a vital tool for maintaining it. When the "weight" of her leadership role and the pressures of life begin to mirror that old, heavy gravity, she heads for the mountains. In the presence of that enormity, her problems return to their "right-size." It is her ultimate reset button—a way to wander weightlessly so she can return home strong enough to lead again. This shift from escaping to experiencing has changed the very way she moves through a city; she is now a student of the world, asking "why?" and "where did this originate?"

Her favorite sensory detail isn't a fancy meal or a famous landmark—it’s the people. Sara has found a deep, quiet gratitude in simple people-watching. "Sometimes I'm inspired, sometimes I pray for a family, sometimes I am tempted to ask someone to tell me their story," she says. In the middle of a crowded airport or a busy street, she sees the diversity of the world as a "butterfly moment" of pure gratitude for her sobriety.

Of course, wandering weightlessly doesn't mean wandering unprepared. Even for a woman who finds peace in the mountains, the "Traveler’s Toolkit" is non-negotiable. It’s the relatable, human side of her journey: high-quality skincare and journals packed alongside travel-sized body spray for "awful public bathrooms."

The most telling item in her bag might be the food. Because she spent time experiencing the true weight of homelessness, Sara moves through the world now with a different kind of insurance. "I don't know if I starved in a previous life," she says, "but I always, always, always have snacks." It is a grounded, practical way of staying present: hydrated, fed, and fully awake for the signs that are everywhere—in the clouds, in a stranger’s name, or in the sudden flutter of a white butterfly in a city far from home. But for Sara, the most vital tool for the journey isn’t something that fits in a carry-on; it’s the emotional toolkit that allowed her to start moving in the first place.

The Final Section: The Way Forward 🗺️

"For the woman currently in the 'caterpillar' phase—the one feeling weighted down by the gravity of addiction or the sheer exhaustion of life—Sara’s advice is the very tool that saved her: Learn how to ask for help.

'Learn how you are comfortable asking and use it often,' she urges. It starts with a small, curious question: 'Can you show me how you did that?' and eventually grows into the brave, life-changing admission: 'I don't know what I'm doing, can you help me?' This willingness to be a student of life is what allows the 'signs' to finally appear. Whether it’s a specific shape in the clouds, a stranger’s name, or the sudden flutter of a white butterfly in a city far from home, Sara is always looking. These moments of serendipity are reminders that we are never truly wandering alone.

Recovery and travel are both journeys of unlearning—of putting down the heavy 'stuff' we thought we needed and realizing that the map to weightlessness isn't something you have to draw yourself. Today, Sara continues to navigate both paths: through the internal healing of Project White Butterfly and the external perspective of Wandering Weightlessly. Sometimes, you just have to look for the sign, put down the bag, and ask for the way.

Spread the Hope Inspired by Sara’s mission to leave the world a little lighter? Learn how you can support Project White Butterfly, order your own butterfly beads, or join the movement of leaving notes of hope for those still in the "caterpillar" phase. Visit - https://projectwhitebutterfly.org/

Ready to Find Your "Right-Size"? If you’re tired of traveling to escape and are ready to start traveling to experience, let’s build your map together. Whether it’s a soul-centering mountain retreat or a sober-friendly cruise, I’m here to help you wander without the weight. Contact Us!

Wander with the Village Recovery is a journey that’s never meant to be walked—or traveled—alone. For more stories of transformation, sober-friendly inspiration, and a community that understands the "weight" you’ve put down, join us over at Suitcases & Sobriety: A Sober Travel Collective.

Wander Women is a featured series by Wandering Weightlessly that spotlights the resilient, the brave, and the "winging it" women who have traded the heavy burdens of their past for the freedom of the open road. From recovery and solo parenting to building empires from the ground up, these are the stories of women who have found their "right-size" in a massive universe and are showing us all how to ask for the map.

#sobertravel #recoveryjourney #projectwhitebutterfly #wanderingweightlessly #soloparenting #traumainformedtravel #soberlifestyle #fostercareawareness #accessibletravel #Suitcases&Sobriety