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1 year in my home. 1 year back in Toronto.

On this day I moved into my current apartment. Sober, afraid of being alone for the first time, finally working in my career - but all during a pandemic. A month after moving, my house became a home when Maxwell and I were reunited and he came meowing into my door. 

Throughout this year, despite the ebbing and flowing of the pandemic, I have managed to expand my career to heights I never expected, register two businesses, find my way back into the fashion scene, model on a runway, host so many amazing friends at my apartment and be unapologetically happy and myself. 

In the last 365 days I’ve managed working relentlessly, having an amazing social circle, going to 5 concerts and a festival, seeing family I had never met before and living everyday to the fullest.

A version of me exists where this wouldn’t have worked, where I would’ve used substances frequently to cope with being alone. A version who would use the freedom as a means to wreak havoc on her on life and dreams because she didn’t love herself enough to think she deserved it. I deserve my little sanctuary in the city. Toronto, in many ways, showed me everything I could become and has saved my life. I have never, in 28 years, been happier than now. 💗
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