| I was nine when I first became a victim of sexual violence. I was assaulted again when I was 12, then again when I was 13, and then I stopped counting—so many different people, and so many different faces to remember. Flashbacks are unpredictable. The first snow of the season reminded me of his cold, ashy breath on my neck. I started picking at my nails because of him, and, now, whenever I look at my hands, I think of him. Sometimes, when I’m completing a mundane task like washing my clothes or brushing my teeth, I recall an event that I had almost forgotten about. I see my abusers’ faces in every nightmare, in shadows while I’m trying to sleep. |
Blackface at McGill
September 8, 2026
How can I show you I’m doing better if there’s nothing good for me to do?
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Your health, your problem
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