I’ve always had a hungry heart.
I grew up in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, which is currently a 1 million person pandemic hellscape, but for me was a sleepy city by the mountains. Living with my mom, I spent a lot of time alone. She ran a therapy practice out of her home, and I had to keep quiet and stay out of earshot. Somehow I had SO MUCH to say, but talking to my therapist mom was really hard.
With my dad largely absent in my life, I was … extremely lost. The closest I had to a father figure was my aunt’s abusive, alcoholic boyfriend. Or my mom’s nomadic car salesman boyfriend. I was pretty sure I should avoid drinking altogether, but that might have been the extent of the wisdom I picked up from those dudes.
When I was 14, I got a rare call from my dad. He told me he was an alcoholic, had gotten sober, and wanted to do a road trip with me. During our road trip in his sleeper van, he told me my uncle’s wife tomiko would be a good person for me to talk to. And he smoked weed with me. That was already weird for me, but then he asked me not to tell my aunt and uncle about it.
When I met my aunt and uncle, I knew immediately they were people I could talk to. And I had SO MUCH to say. tomiko really understood me. When I told them I was experimenting with smoking weed — something I was keeping secret from my mom — and that my dad told me not to tell them that, they told me not to play his games. They weren’t wrong. They also said I was going to fry my brains smoking weed.
The weird thing was, weed felt pretty good. I was more social, more focused in my creative work, and a better actor when I was on weed. Of course, I had no idea what I was doing, and I was largely avoiding school while I was doing a lot of weed. So at the time it just seemed like a very unfortunate habit that I would need to overcome. My dad’s admonishments not to tell my aunt and uncle about his pot habit gave me a creepy feeling. I associated his shame with the plant.
I resolved to never touch weed again, and turned my attention from art, music, acting, and writing, to math and science. I wanted to avoid becoming like my dad. I wanted to be my own person. I became convinced that learning structured, technical thought would help me do basic life things like finish exams on time or manage my own finances. And not end up on the street, or living in a garage like my dad. I needed to learn to survive in the world. I couldn’t see myself living past 18 years old.
The pressure I was feeling to repair myself before I crashed was really intense. I started having angry outbursts at home with my mom. I had SO MUCH to come to terms with around her. But it was all coming out very raw and unfiltered. She was really hurt by my outbursts.
When I left home for university, I resolved never to go back home again.