Two years before Isaac passed, we moved to Halifax from his home city, Winnipeg. It was always clear from the beginning of our relationship that Isaac wanted to experience the East Coast, the birthplace of his mother’s family, and my home province. It was I who was hesitant to go back home.

          Back in the early 2000s, I decided that the only way to stop the revolving door of wounding relationships was to move far away. So far that it would prevent anyone from spinning back into my life. My inability to make wise choices in dating, or to at least stay away from the young men who were crushing my soul, pushed me towards the decision to make a fresh start. I had been up to bat many times and given up the hope that the life I wanted was going to happen on my home turf, and so I started looking at where the grass could be greener. Where no one knew my past and I had no backup relationships to turn to. Where I could stop playing games, let my tough act go and finally be myself. The last relationship left me with nothing so, with a university degree under my belt, I worked a Tim Horton’s job for a month and saved every penny. I then bought myself a one-way bus ticket to Winnipeg and rode off into the sunset. Heading out west to find a new life and fingers crossed, true love.

          Over the years, I watched as people assumed that I was the one who was born in Winnipeg and that Isaac was the one from another land. Upon discovering the truth, and their racial bias, they would then ask me why I chose such a frigid city, as many native Winnipeggers felt that their city was a place that people would only want to escape from. They were expecting an answer that involved an exciting career choice but it really came down to push and pull factors. When everything in my past was pushing me away, I went to the one place that was pulling me closer. So with two suitcases and $200 to my name, my 23-year-old self boarded a bus to the Peg and settled into the only space in the world that she felt safe, a university friend’s storage closet.

~ Excerpt from The Invitation to Exist, Chapter “Courage to Not Follow”