Healing Is Not a Straight Line—It’s a Progression

Since 2016, I’ve walked through survival, resilience, defiance, and joy, arriving now at a place of thriving. My journey is proof that healing is possible—even from toxic workplace abuse and public attempts to destroy your name. It takes time, but with determination, self‑compassion, and patience, it can be done.

One truth has carried me through: I am a human being deserving to take up space, and eventually, the truth always comes to light.

2016 – Naming the Wounds

This was the year I stopped pretending everything was fine. I named the wounds for what they were, breaking the silence that had kept me trapped. Writing became my act of defiance, reclaiming my voice against gaslighting and lies. Silence protects the abuser—not the person being targeted. I refused to stay silent.

2017 – Survival Mode

Survival was everything. Each journal entry was armour, forged from truth and defiance. Exhaustion pressed hard, but I held on. I wrote even when drained, even when gaslighting made me doubt myself. Each word was a shield. Each sentence is a refusal. I wasn’t just surviving—I was documenting my fight.

2018 – Breaking Point and Seeking Support

July 2018 pushed me to my breaking point. I quit my job, endured psychosis, and realized I couldn’t carry this alone. I reached out in November that year—finding community, bloggers, and a psychologist who helped me rebuild. Solidarity reminded me I wasn’t alone. Healing doesn’t happen in silence; it happens in community.

2019 – Reclaiming Identity

By 2019, I refused to be defined by harm. Court decisions confirmed the truth, and I stopped reacting to toxic rhetoric. Survivorhood became my identity—louder, unapologetic, resilient. I was no longer the scapegoat. I was the truth‑teller, reclaiming freedom.

2020 – Building Resilience

The Human Rights Tribunal hearing ended with their silence—” applications dismissed as abandoned”. Their absence spoke volumes. That year, the pandemic gave me solitude to reflect, and moving home to Newfoundland gave me space to heal. Resilience became active, chosen, and lived.

2021 – Truth and Defiance

Their smear campaign tried to twist my story, but it failed. I created my own site, exposing lies with clarity and evidence. Defiance became empowerment. My refusal to disappear became a beacon for others.

2022 – Letting Go

Anger had carried me far, but it was heavy. I chose peace over battle, calm over confrontation. Letting go didn’t mean forgetting—it meant refusing to let the past dictate my present. Peace became power.

2023 – Turning Toward Joy

Joy unfolded quietly, like the tide returning to shore. I found it in ocean waves, sunsets, spiderwebs, and Christmas lights. Joy became defiance, too—proof that I was free.

2024 – Community and Connection

Healing expanded outward. I embraced advocacy, truth‑telling, and solidarity. Empowerment became collective. Connection reminded me that resilience thrives in community.

2025 – Thriving and Creating

This year, the smear sites disappeared. My writing shifted fully toward joy, beauty, and community strength. Creativity flows freely. Thriving is my ultimate victory.

What This Journey Means Today

Each year carried its own lesson: survival, resilience, defiance, joy, and thriving. Healing was never about erasing the past—it was about transforming it into strength.

Today, I live openly, without toxic voices dictating my story. My site reflects a collective truth: wounds can become wisdom, and pain can give way to beauty.

Healing is not the end—it’s the beginning of thriving.