You sit on the edge of the exam table, paper crinkling under you, while the intake form asks about your family history. You write “unknown” next to half the lines. Nobody in your family saw a doctor unless something had
You say yes before you’ve even finished hearing the question. Somebody’s tone shifts half a degree and your body starts adjusting before your mind catches up: shoulders soften, voice goes warmer, you’re already offering to help with something you don’t
You open the banking app before you open your eyes all the way. Not to check a number, exactly, more to brace for one. Your chest tightens before the screen even loads, the way it has since long before you
On September 2, 2026, a storm tore through Toronto with wind gusts exceeding 110 kilometres per hour. Bleachers at Rogers Stadium collapsed. The Don Valley Parkway flooded with drivers trapped inside their cars. Trees came down across the city. Tens
You are the person everyone calls. The one who translates at appointments, holds the family together during hard times, bridges two worlds without anyone asking whether that is exhausting. You know how to navigate the system because you are the
You are lying face-down on a massage table in East Vancouver, a stranger’s hands about to touch skin that carries more history than any intake form asks about. Before the first stroke, your shoulders are already braced. You run the
There is a specific comfort that many immigrants carry without naming it. A kind of tether. The knowledge that “somewhere”back home” – the house still stands, the street still sounds the same, the market still holds the smells of the
You are up past midnight again, laptop open to fourteen tabs: a course on starting a business, a job posting you are not sure you are qualified for, an old draft of a letter you never sent. Something in you
You are standing in the grocery store, doing the math in your head again. The peppers cost more than last month. The rice you buy in bulk has gone up. The brand of chips your kids love disappeared from the
You are sitting at someone’s kitchen table. The food is good. The conversation moves easily between languages. Someone laughs at something that only makes sense if you grew up in a particular place, with a particular history, and everyone at