“How have I never heard of you?”

We heard some version of that question over and over again at Soberfest in Victoria, BC.

Folks would stop at the SHE RECOVERS Foundation booth, pick up a pamphlet or a sticker, ask what we did—and then start telling us their stories.

They told us they had tried other recovery spaces and didn’t feel at home in rooms where men outnumbered women.

They told us they didn’t connect with some frameworks where their recovery capital wasn’t fully recognized after relapse.

They told us they wanted inclusive recovery support that acknowledged their lived experiences as women.

They told us they were looking for a different way of working their recovery.

And then they’d look at us, genuinely surprised, and say:

“Why didn’t I know this existed?”

That question stayed with me long after we packed up and headed home.

Because after hearing it again and again, I started wondering:

What does it say about the recovery landscape when so many women are searching for something they don’t even know exists?

As a self-described people person, I came to Soberfest—the annual family-friendly, substance-free music festival that raises funds for addiction treatment, recovery resources, and community wellness programs across the province—ready to talk recovery. I went on a mission to extol the virtues of our SHE RECOVERS resources and programming, and I did that.

But what I ended up doing most was listening.

Maybe it was the intersection of the stickers I had slapped on my chest—HELLO, my name is… Emotional Support Human and SHE RECOVERS—at your service. But people were telling me what they were looking for to support their recovery.

Some folks stopped by our booth having heard of SHE RECOVERS and were curious to learn about our programming. Some people wondered if our famous founders, Dawn and Taryn, were in attendance. Some folks wanted to tell us about their own offerings. One person even told us that she heard rumours that we let people use cannabis in our gatherings. Spoiler alert: we don’t. But we do believe in supporting folks in finding and following their own individualized pathways and patchworks of recovery, and sometimes that includes using cannabis as harm reduction. We’re not here to judge how you define your recovery.

Others skipped the small talk entirely and jumped into the nitty-gritty.

There was a mother who wanted to volunteer for us before even knowing what we were all about—because women helping women, obviously. She talked about how her daughter didn’t feel like she fit into her recovery program, although it was helping, and how she herself had quit drinking in solidarity. Then the daughter came by and told me that she didn’t appreciate being told to restart the timer after relapsing, especially after accumulating so much time in recovery.

Another woman who stopped for a chat was volunteering as a peer support worker, helping people affected by homelessness, addiction, and trauma. Her daughter had fallen through the cracks and was living on a strip of grass outside a local shelter. She told me her daughter was such a determined young woman that she could do anything she put her mind to, and hopefully soon that would be recovery instead of finding drugs.

I had a lovely talk with a woman who asked if we were just about alcohol recovery or if we accepted people in recovery from other substances, even other things like mental health issues. She said she didn’t necessarily feel at home in her fellowship, though she had seen many lives saved because of it. She felt more comfy recovering on the land, closer to nature. And why was recovery all about dredging up the past and introducing yourself via your character defects while public speaking in church basements?

As these women told me their stories, they were also asking for exactly what they wanted in their recovery.

And what they wanted was a sense of belonging in community.

They were already healing from addiction, trauma, and mental health issues, and they wanted a peer group that recognized their unique experiences as women.

They needed recovery to work with everything else they had going on, and that was a lot. Programs and resources needed to be inclusive, accessible, and strengths-based. And they wanted their recovery supports to be rooted in freedom and joy, because if we don’t have those in recovery, what do we have, really?

I wasn’t standing behind a table trying to convince people that SHE RECOVERS was the answer; I was listening to them reaffirm many of the reasons that SHE RECOVERS exists in the first place.

Women wanted to broaden the scope of what they were in recovery from (because it wasn’t just substances); they wanted to find connection and camaraderie with other supportive women searching for the same kind of thing, often well before they hit a rock bottom; they wanted a framework that kept evolving, like them; and they wanted a variety of modalities and tools to help bolster their recovery and personal development.

The women I talked to wanted more.

And then someone pointing to our banner just flat out asked me: So, what does redefining recovery mean?

See above. And also, below.

Embracing healing inclusive of and beyond addiction. Disrupting oppressive systems that create barriers to wellness. Recognizing the interconnectedness of all things and viewing recovery as a holistic experience that exists on both a spectrum and a continuum. It looks like early intervention and strong supports from within a recovery-oriented system of care.

In short, recovery can look different for everyone. It’s collaborative, not prescriptive, and it’s grounded in choice.

Want to recover with in-person or online meetings?
That’s recovery.

Want to count your continuous days of sobriety?
That’s recovery.

Want to celebrate non-linear healing?
That’s recovery.

Want to connect with nature and recover on the land?
That’s recovery.

Want to incorporate your body into well-being?
That’s recovery.

It’s all recovery, redefined.

Whole-person healing is not always about giving something up; it’s also about inviting in endless, sometimes unimaginable possibilities—as cheesy as that sounds.

Recovery isn’t one-size-fits-all. And, as women, we shouldn’t have to accept one-size-fits-most. We deserve better.

We are worthy of individualized pathways and patchworks of recovery that work for us and feel like our own. And we need human connection and support from like-spirited folks along the way.

We want to feel like all of who we are can show up exactly as we are and still feel like we belong. That’s the kind of recovery we crave.

And the kind of recovery women and non-binary folks were asking for when they shared their stories with me under the banner of SHE RECOVERS.

Imagine my delight when I got to say: Yes, us too. Same here. We get it.

That’s why our mission is to redefine women’s recovery, support and connect those leading the way, and make room for every woman to heal and thrive.

Because recovery doesn’t have to be a straight line, a certain framework, a story about how far you’ve fallen, or how many times you’ve picked yourself back up.

It can be a messy, joyful, embodied, and ever-evolving patchwork of whatever helps you build your most fulsome life.

There is room for you here.

Maybe that’s my takeaway from Soberfest.

Women out there are looking for a way to recover that feels like their own.

They’re looking for community.

They’re looking for connection.

They’re looking for a place where they can be themselves and know that they belong.

I know those feelings well.

Because I accidentally found my way into recovery by showing up for a local Yoga For Recovery class one evening in 2013—taught by SHE RECOVERS Co-founder Taryn Strong.

I certainly wasn’t ready for sobriety then. But I resonated with the intentions and guiding principles of recovery that Taryn shared with us.

I didn’t know then where that class would lead me. I just kept showing up because I felt at home on that mat, in that class, with those people.

If that was recovery, then I was in.