The Hero
Joseph Campbell, an American professor and author, is most well-known for his book, “The Hero with a Thousand Faces.”
In it, he explores the Hero’s Journey (also known as the monomyth), which has come to describe a universal narrative pattern found in myths and stories across cultures and time periods.
Not only did his book inspire George Lucas to finish Star Wars, but it has also prompted storytellers and writers for decades to follow the winding path of the hero character through adventure, crisis, and transformation.
Campbell shares:
"The hero-deed is a continuous shattering of the crystallization of the moment. The cycle rolls: mythology focuses on the growing-point.”
In Campbell’s view, if we are heroes, all of our moments lead us towards transformation.
Some may view the process of recovery as a “hero-deed,” too. A series of growing points along our path, bringing the hero’s journey into the realm of the real.
In this view, the person in recovery (or really anyone who overcomes a challenge or obstacle) becomes an almost mythical creature that wins against all odds. Mythology to memoir.
We face our life-shattering obstacles, our “rock bottoms” as many call them, yet we rise like a phoenix from the ashes.
Incredible triumphs of extraordinary proportion with every “one day at a time.”
Heck, some of us even write books about it…
The Villian
One of my first mentors told me this and it has stuck with me:
“Loved you then, love you still, always have and always will.”
In my late teens and twenties, I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear these words. How much I villainized myself. The one who used substances to self-medicate and who used relationships to escape. Used anything, really, to numb the pain.
I was my own worst critique, while for years I treated myself and my body more poorly that anyone else in my life. Like a garbage dump and not like the temple that it is.
“I’m crazy.”
“I’m damaged.”
“I’m broken beyond repair.”
These were soundtracks I played on repeat. The harsh voices and swirl of negative thoughts were maddening.
Even after I’d found healing over the years from a variety of pathways including harm reduction, therapy, medication, 12-Step, faith-based, and more, I’d continue to villainize my former self.
My past “addict” self was the villain who needed conquering.
My redemption story was about obliterating the “old self,” not being made new and loving young Caroline too. Instead, attempting to crush and pathologize her too.
Photo by Ema Lalita on Unsplash
Dig into any of the past or current research on addiction stigma (especially for women) and you will see that it is not just ourselves we villainize.
It is true that we are villainized by others.
Some believe that people who use drugs or misuse substances are the anti-heroes, the villains who need punishment, correction, and are in desperate need of a forced-redemption story.
Even those of us who identify as being in recovery face discrimination and are othered (I’ve experienced my fair share of this working in academia, state and federal government, and within non-recovery friendly spaces).
My friend and advocate, Meghann Perry, recently shared in her newsletter that:
When we make our substance-using self the villain, we make everyone else who uses substances a villain, too.
Your past is someone else's present. They hear how you talk about yourself.
And they believe you.
We can be villainized by others through stigma or discrimination, and we can also villainize ourselves by speaking about our former selves (B.S. or “before sobriety or recovery”) as less than. Worthy of punishment.
The Guide
While those who are still using substances may be seen as a “villain” or villainized unknowingly even within the recovery community, many of us have been identified (or arguably, confined) by our redemptive arcs.
You may see a perfect trad-nuclear family on social media, but my family and I have had our struggles, some I don’t share about publicly because it is not my story to tell.
I still struggle with insecurity and have complex PTSD symptoms, anxiety and… have even thought, would cannabis really be that big of deal for me? I mean, it’s legal now, right?
You have your secret stories, too. The ones that don’t get shared about on social media or even talked about with friends. Those things that don’t seem to fit within the “hero’s journey.” They are messy. Hard. Real.
We all have our challenges and imperfections, but instead of elevating them as we conquer them (hero) or putting them down (villain) we can lead from our stories right where we are.
We can be the guide.
The hero/villain narrative isn’t one I want to connect with anymore (and I don’t want others to put me in those boxes either).
We don’t deserve to be stigmatized or villainized for our recovery or substance use.
We should not be discriminated against for how we choose to recover or not or adhere to certain pathways or not.
We also don’t need to be put on pedestals or idolized for our stories.
As Campbell shares:
"The hero adventures out of the land we know into darkness; there accomplishes his adventure or again is simply lost to us, imprisoned, or in danger; and his return is described as a coming back out of that yonder. Nevertheless — and here is a great key to the understanding of myth and symbol — the two kingdoms are actually one."
We are all human, with flaws and triumphs and setbacks. We are all trudging this road, no one immune from the struggles of life.
While our lives may have mountain top moments and things we want to celebrate, there will also be griefs and sorrows and struggles along the way, no matter if we say we are “in recovery” or not.
No matter what, we can extend a hand and reach for the person who needs what my past self needed and what I still need today:
Love, unconditionally.
In the Bible, this is called agape love. Not based on any condition or identity or state of being or doing (using drugs or not, for example).
Loved simply because I am.
Loved simply because we are.
Maybe we can see ourselves not as heroes or as villains, but as imperfect guides who have the opportunity to share hope in real ways as fellow human beings who are loved.
Then, still, always
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How has your experience of recovery changed over time?
How do you identify (or not identify) today?
Are you challenged by this concept?
Caroline Beidler, MSW, is an author, speaker, and Managing Editor of Recovery.com, where she combines expert guidance with research to help people find the best path to healing and treatment. Her next book, When You Love Someone in Recovery: A Hopeful Guide for Understanding Addiction, is coming Spring 2026 with Nelson Books. Drawing from her own recovery journey through addiction, mental health challenges, and trauma, along with clinical training as a mental health provider and addiction recovery expert, Caroline creates resources that help you navigate recovery and build resilience. She is passionate about guiding you into seasons of greater healing, transformation, and recovery. Learn more about her books here.
I enjoyed this read, thank you. I’ve writing about my own journey with consumption/addiction from the perspective of someone who hasn’t been able to find the amount of self love needed to beat what amounts to a death wish. Even though I can’t necessarily feel self love consistently yet, writing about seeking it is somehow becoming that very thing.
I think loving yourself and others non-transactionally while in Recovery is a huge step forward in one's healing and yet the hardest.