(Scroll Down To The Bottom If You're An Impatient Fuck)
Yes, you read that correctly. For the last four months I have been homeless. No, I was not sleeping on the streets, and thankfully only one night was spent in my truck, but I have been bouncing around between friends couches and taking the occasional male suitor up on their offer to eat a hot meal and sleep next to a warm body.
Why didn't I just move home? Because I don't have a bedroom at home and my mother's crafting projects take up the living room that is couchless. Although I could have slept on my 14 year old brother's couch, I think that would have been a little weird for the both of us. Also, my mother lives a 45 minute drive outside of the city and if I wanted to find a job, I needed to be in the city and interview ready at all times.
That being said, as soon as I got back to Toronto, I was applying to jobs like CRAZY. But my resume was clearly not standing out to anyone seeing as I only had two interviews (one of which was over the phone) during the months of July & August. I was, however, getting auditions left, right, and centre.
I was broke, jobless, and homeless. BUT I had just recorded an EP; I had been asked to sing at a charity concert for Ovarian Cancer; I was booking paid acting gigs; I was asked to return to Vancouver Fashion Week as their Show Choreographer - which was paid; my guitarist and I were booked to play at a music festival* - also paid; and my family was just a short drive away if I wanted to see them. It was heaven. But I realized this lifestyle wouldn't last forever and couch surfing got tiring, so the universe finally provided to me, at the time I was ready to receive it, my dream job, and an apartment downtown Toronto with a place to park Bertha.*
How did I end up here? Well, frankly, I fell in love. I fell for the idea that:
“When you meet the right person, you’ll know.”
I was honestly convinced that I would meet someone one day and everything would change. I would get butterflies in my stomach and I would know: this is the person I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. The fact that he lived across the country was somehow romantic, that he valued me for more than my body was new and made me feel like it was different this time. In retrospect I can count on one hand the amount of times someone has made me feel this way. Actually, it was one time, and his name was Chris Tulipano, and it was like 7 years ago.
So I fell in love, packed my truck, and drove from Toronto to Vancouver by myself. Well, I suppose my fish, Fuego Fire Le Poisson, counts as a passenger. I had spent the last of my savings on gas to get there so despite my better judgement, but mostly because I was desperate for work and didn't have time to look for something better, I went back to the hospitality industry as a server. I knew that this would bring me great unhappiness but I thought I'd be okay. I also had a feeling that monogamy was not for me, but I was so head over heels for this guy, I had to give it a shot. I had no social life, and I missed my family more than I thought possible. I had just started rebuilding a broken relationship with my brother and the guilt I carried for having left at such a crucial time made me feel sick. I couldn't even pick up the phone and call because I feared bursting into tears. This, coming from a girl who doesn't say "I miss you" because I'd never felt that feeling for anyone other than my dad ever since he passed away. I was having anxiety attacks regularly, and if I'd made it through the day without crying, I considered it a success. In a teary mess at work one day, I actually told my manager that I felt trapped. I had admitted it out loud. Which made it all too real. I sought help from a medical professional who told me I was crazy for moving out there. That was helpful 🙄.
I had planned a trip home in June but as the dates approached and my bank account remained empty I thought it was never going to happen. Thankfully with the help of my incredibly patient and generous boyfriend at the time, and my aunt, I was able to fly home to Toronto and stop in Calgary to visit some family on the way. I spent a lot of the time up at my nana's cottage helping her pack as they were in the process of moving and felt incredibly grateful to her for a safe, peaceful space for me to sort through my emotions. On my first day back my nephew said, "Can I give you a kiss tía kiki? Cause it's been a long time since I could give you a kiss." A few days later my other nephew said, excitedly, "Are you gonna be here when I wake up in the morning? And when I come back from school? You should stay for five weeks." I realized that I missed them as much as they missed me. I didn't think the distance would affect them at such a young age, but it did, and my heart broke for all the months I'd spent a way. After a few weeks it was clear that I needed to move home. My family needed me, and honestly, I needed them, too.
I called my boyfriend to let him know I needed to move home and he wasn't surprised. My mental health was not in a good place; I knew I needed my support system back. So I flew back to Vancouver - borrowing money from a dear old friend - packed up my truck, and found a few people on craigslist to share the financial burden and driving responsibilities of road-tripping back to Toronto. It was a wild drive and I made some incredible friends.
When I got back to Toronto, my friends and family welcomed me with open arms. I overstayed my welcome at a number of homes but the most incredible thing happened: my friendships blossomed. When you live in a big city and everyone has a job or kids or whatever, it's hard to find time to spend with each other and you end up spending most of your time catching up on life's events rather than creating new memories. Crashing on my friends couches (sometimes I even got to sleep in their beds 😏 - shout out to Nicole, Katelyn, & Aisha #namedropping) meant that we spent so much more quality time together. I will be forever grateful for this experience because of the friendships I've strengthened.
It would have been so easy to look at things from a negative perspective, like, I was fucking homeless. People who live on the street would ask me for change and I'd be like dude, I'm rollerblading to work because I can't afford the TTC. I met with my financial advisor when I got back to the city and he said "Wow! You look really thin!" I was like "Thanks! I can't afford to eat, so......😅"
I chose to find the silver lining* in the same way that I looked at my debt in a positive way. To the people who leant me money (and to whom I still owe money) - shout out to Mom, Aunt Bonnie, Nana, Jamie, & Kirsten - I will pay you back, I appreciate your patience, I love you, and your generosity showed me that you really have my back. I am so incredibly grateful to the kindhearted circle of friends and family I have cultivated over the years and I hope you know that I would do the same for you. In a heartbeat. No questions ask. I'll even help you bury the body.
SO - The Kohl's Notes, for you impatient fucks.
- Sleeping in your truck requires layers. The nights are cold and the sun is hot.
- Accepting invitations to go on dates is a great way ensure you eat that day.
- Co-parenting a fish requires trust and communication.
- Seeking therapy is healthy, but sometimes doctors are assholes.
- Alone time is greatly underrated and under appreciated.
- It's ok to owe people money, but make sure your debts are paid before going on vacation.
- Living out of your truck is great for last minute weather related wardrobe changes.
- Sleeping on your friends' couches is how drunken rap songs are made.
- Being homeless for four months means you get to eat four times as much at Thanksgiving.
- Family is irreplaceable and should always come first. #familyfirst
*Bertha is my truck. I basically inherited her from my grandfather.
*The festival ended up cutting us from the list without even telling me. I was heartbroken. I also got on the wrong bus that day and ended up going an hour in the opposite direction and then missing my flight to Vancouver in the morning because the volume on my alarm was set too low that I didn't hear it. Then I got to Vancouver and the next morning spent 30 minutes trying to hail a fucking cab. Needless to say that little piece of news set things in a turbulent direction.
*I probably couldn't do that in Vancouver because they don't have Uber. Just saying. Getting a taxi in that fucking city was the bane of my existence.