Julia Fofanah, founder of cannabis wellness platform Sà Wea, sits across from me radiating the kind of quiet confidence that comes from having survived everything and still choosing to believe in beauty. At 30-something, she carries herself with the grace of someone who has learned that consistency, not perfection, is the secret to changing the world.
“Legacy isn’t about me; it’s about being the pivot point that transforms our entire family story from survival to greatness.”
Her story begins where too many stories shouldn’t have to: with an eight-year-old girl navigating poverty, carrying burdens that would break most adults. Fast-forward to today, and that same little girl is hosting wellness events for hundreds, running a thriving business, and literally opening doors for communities that have been systematically shut out of entire industries.
It’s a masterclass in turning pain into purpose.
The Genesis of Opening the Way
Fofanah’s entry into cannabis wellness began with what she elegantly terms “a place of inconvenience.” Working in luxury retail for years, she found herself frustrated by the industry’s aesthetic offerings—a mom wanting something beautiful, not just functional.
“I didn’t want bongs or skull pieces,” she explains, her voice carrying the measured confidence of someone who has learned to trust her instincts. “I wanted to find something that is art, but it speaks…it’s beautiful.”
But here’s where Fofanah’s story becomes genuinely compelling: What began as personal frustration evolved into a much larger mission. She recognized that if she felt displaced in this space, others—particularly those from the African diaspora—likely felt it too.
Enter, Sà Wea, a name derived from her mother’s Kru dialect meaning “to open the way.” What started as an e-commerce platform for curated cannabis accessories has evolved into something far more ambitious: a wellness community addressing mind, body, and spirit.
“My legacy is really opening the way for individuals that don’t have a voice, individuals that don’t have a place, individuals that feel like there’s no community,” Fofanah states. It’s a mission statement that carries the weight of lived experience.
The Reluctant Founder in Julia Fofanah
Perhaps most striking about Fofanah’s journey is her initial resistance to claiming her own success. For years, she struggled with the title “founder,” despite building something meaningful from the ground up.
“I didn’t feel like I represented what a founder was financially,” she admits with startling honesty. “I even said, ‘Well, you can’t call yourself a CEO if you don’t have COOs and CFOs.'”
It’s a confession that reveals the insidious nature of imposter syndrome, particularly for women of color in entrepreneurship. Fofanah was solving real problems, creating community, generating revenue, yet still questioned her legitimacy based on arbitrary external markers.
The shift came through connection with other founders. “Every trial and tribulation other founders would have, I said, ‘Hey, I’m going through the same thing. I’m trying to balance my books, I’m going through taxes, I’m going through all the mental burdens.'” Recognition dawned: “Now I feel very comfortable to say, ‘Yeah, I’m a founder, full-fledged.'”
The Architecture of Authenticity
Ask Fofanah where she refuses to compromise herself, and her answer cuts to the essence of personal evolution: relationships. All of them.
“I’m not a people pleaser, but I was always wanting to put the needs of others before mine. It would turn into me having to shrink myself,” she reflects. “It doesn’t feel good. It feels like your voice isn’t really being heard.”
Her solution is bracingly simple: “People are going to be who they are, regardless of what you do or what you say. So show up as you are and be you in totality.”
This is a philosophy that extends to every aspect of her business and personal life. Fofanah learned that contorting yourself to fit someone else’s comfort zone is exhausting work that serves no one.
The Invisible Labor of Persistence
When discussing what feels worth honoring in her life, Fofanah’s response illuminates the hidden architecture of success: “My consistency. I don’t give up no matter what.”
But this isn’t the sanitized version of persistence often peddled in entrepreneurship circles. Fofanah is refreshingly honest about the darker moments.
“There’s so much that people do not see, and there’s no wins, there’s no claims. But I just don’t give up because I thoroughly believe in myself now,” she explains. “I didn’t always believe in myself. But believing in myself means believing that there’s something divine in me and having total faith in what I do and create.”
She’s equally candid about the doubt: “I do have those moments because I’m human. Am I going the right path? Sometimes people say, ‘Just be a good person.’ It’s not that easy. You actually have to do the work and be intentional.”
Legacy as Liberation
For Fofanah, legacy transcends personal achievement, it’s generational transformation. “I think of family, I think of Liberia, where my family’s from. I think of my mom, my daughter, and leaving something behind for future generations.”
Her vision is both intimate and expansive: “Being that individual that said, ‘I broke that generational curse. I was the one that pivoted this entire family landscape to greatness.'”
She imagines future generations saying, “My great aunt Julia or my grandma Julia—because of her, we can. Because she believed, I believe.”
It’s a perspective that reframes entrepreneurship not as individual achievement, but as ancestral healing—the kind of work that ripples forward through generations.
The Revolution of Making Room
What makes Fofanah’s story particularly compelling is how she has transformed her own experience of displacement into active creation of belonging for others. Every wellness event she hosts, every community she builds, represents a conscious choice to ensure others never feel the isolation she once experienced.
“I want people to leave my presence feeling good and feeling like they understand what their purpose is and that there’s something to live for,” she says.
This is legacy in real time—not waiting for some future moment of “arrival,” but using current platforms to create change now. Fofanah’s evolution from that vulnerable eight-year-old to a woman hosting hundreds demonstrates something profound: our deepest wounds often become our most powerful sources of healing for others.
The woman sitting before me embodies a particular kind of success—one measured not just in revenue or recognition, but in rooms created, voices amplified, and paths opened. That eight-year-old girl dealing with homelessness couldn’t have imagined this future, but she laid the foundation through sheer persistence.Fofanah’s story reminds us that sometimes the most revolutionary act is simply refusing to give up on yourself, one consistent day at a time. In a world quick to dismiss the displaced, she has built an entire platform around the radical notion that everyone deserves a place at the table—and if that table doesn’t exist yet, she’ll build it herself.
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