I love street life. Being born in a non-English speaking country, street life means people who love to hang out on the street with their crew, days and nights, and not necessarily homeless. It was a lifestyle, a choice that I made when I was little. My parents were never around, working day and night, the street was the place I felt I belonged. Until a choice, I unknowingly made, led to a life-changing situation with no return.
People I came across today would never guess how much more there is to my story, and the people I once knew either cannot be reached or I do not want to reach them. I was sent off to another country, to be away from the place I was. Some people asked me why I left my country at such a young age, and I replied, “My parents kicked me out.” Most people laughed at it, and some were confused by it. Not until I turned into an adult did I understand that my life was saved by being “kicked out.” This is the story that I proudly carry with me today.
It started when I had to live far from my own family, with a host family. There was a time I was kicked out from there for not being able to pay rent. I did not know that, as a youth, my host family could not legally kick me out of their house. I had no one to turn to, I could not tell my family about it as I was scared they would question why I wasn’t paying rent. It was my fault, spending all the money on something else, and it was a lesson for me to pay for.
That was when I truly experienced “street life.” I believed it was fine because I spent lots of time on the street, but it was not the street life I knew before. Each day went by slowly, I spent most of my days at McDonald’s waiting for someone to leave the table without cleaning their leftovers, visited ashtrays around the city to get leftover tobacco from unfinished cigarettes, tried to get cleaned in public washrooms, and the list goes on. It was hard and the nighttime was even more terrifying. I often spent half the night moving around and not getting into anyone’s territory. some were friendly, some were aggressive, and some were deceptive.
My street life ended after a few months. It felt like years. But because of this experience, my life turned around once again. I started to appreciate every day, everything, and everyone I came across.
Street life took a big toll in many ways, including physical health from various kinds of abuses, lack of nutritious foods and drinks, sleep deprivation, etc.; it also negatively impacted my mental health in the way of trust, anxiety, self-awareness, mindset, and more. It impacted the way I think and see relationships, always doubting myself in being in any kind of relationship – as they might end up being involved in a certain kind of danger. These are just a few examples of the toll it took.
Despite the experience, I always think that without those days, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I cherish and accept it as a part of me, the more to my story. Still, I wish I had known back then that there were places like Directions Youth Services, that I didn’t have to risk getting ill from the foods I ate or drinks I drank. I didn’t have to walk endlessly to find a safe spot to sleep. If I had known that there were trauma counselling services available for me, I could have regained myself sooner after the experience. I could have felt my existence walking on the street sooner. I could have looked at people in the eyes once again a bit sooner. Only if I had known, I could tell all those friendly folks who did help me on the street that we were not alone and there was help and support for us.
I now have a chance to tell people that there’s help and support when you need it. It’s not the end, and you can once again stand on your feet, chase your dreams, be a parent, be happy, be the person you want to be, trust in others and be trusted in, and be the more to your story.
*Please note that this is not a picture of Em, whose name has also been changed for privacy.