My Life Year by Year

I was born in 1985, entering this world as a blank slate, unaware of the complex tapestry of family dynamics that would shape my journey. My foundation was set without a stable father figure and with a mother who would soon find herself in survival mode. Looking back through the lens of Jungian psychology, I can see this as the beginning of my "shadow self" formation - those unconscious aspects of my personality that the conscious ego would struggle to acknowledge for decades. The absence of a father created a vacuum that would influence my relationships, my sense of self, and my search for male approval throughout my life. Even in these earliest moments, the patterns were being laid that would take me years to recognize and understand.

In kindergarten, I had a friend named David Cox. We used to play on scooters, and I would always reserve one for him. There was something about this simple act of saving a spot for him that felt important to me, even at that age. Looking back, I see it as my first attempt at creating connection and order in a world that often felt chaotic. There was also a girl who liked me, but she was bigger than me and used to sit on me, which was overwhelming but probably her way of showing affection. I remember feeling confused by her attention, not knowing how to respond. Even at this young age, I was showing signs of people-pleasing and seeking approval from others, patterns that would follow me into adulthood. Confucius emphasized the importance of proper relationships (五伦) from childhood, and I can see now how my lack of healthy male role models created a void I would spend decades trying to fill through my interactions with others.

I started grade 1 at Burlington Central Public School, my first real experience with the structure and expectations of formal education. The classroom felt both exciting and intimidating, a microcosm of the larger world I was beginning to navigate. School became another environment where I had to learn to function without strong parental guidance. Without my father's presence to help me understand these new social systems, I was left to figure things out on my own, which led to both independence and confusion. The Taoist concept of wu-wei (non-forcing) was absent here; instead of natural development, I was forced to navigate systems without proper guidance, setting a pattern that would repeat throughout my educational journey.

My parents got divorced this year, and we had to go to a battered women's shelter. I remember the fear I felt around my dad, how his presence would change the atmosphere in the room instantly. I had dreams of a hairy ape in a shed - his arms broke through the metal shed and were banging, trying to get out. Looking back, I understand this was my psyche trying to process the terror and confusion I felt but couldn't express in words. I continued at Central Public School in Burlington for grades 1 and 2, carrying this invisible weight with me every day.

I made fun of a kid from Pakistan because he wore a snow suit in summer. I think I called him a paki. My dad told me not to call people that, and I didn't feel good about it. Some white kids at school taught me the words nigger and paki. We had a babysitter and nanny from Trinidad named Lillian who was bossy. One time when she was telling me what to do, I called her a nigger. I didn't understand the significance of that and I felt bad later, and to this day I regret saying that.

One winter I got into trouble for brushing snow off my gloves in front of a girl whose mom was a teacher. This stupid bitch of a cunt told her mom who was on recess duty that I was throwing snow. I told her I was brushing the snow off my gloves, and her mom was like, "Oh, so your gloves made you do it." What a cunt.

In grade 1 I got into trouble for having mud all over my knees. I remember not wearing underwear and my penis was sticking out of a hole in my pants while I was sitting cross-legged, and I felt embarrassed.

The trauma of my parents' divorce and the fear of my father manifested in aggressive behavior and using hurtful language I didn't understand. I was acting out pain I couldn't express. Children who experience trauma often act out in ways that reflect their internal chaos. Without proper guidance, these behaviors can become patterns that persist into adulthood. The absence of a stable father figure and having a mother in survival mode meant I had to navigate these complex emotions alone. Freud would see my racist outbursts as displacement - redirecting unacceptable feelings toward safer targets. Jung would view the ape dream as a manifestation of the shadow self - the primitive, instinctual part of my psyche I feared.

I was the new kid in grade 3. We lived in a townhouse, and we had neighbors from Hungary with a little friend I played with. I played Sega Genesis at this bad kid's house - he liked to make prank phone calls. All the white kids in that complex were tough, smoked, and wanted to be bad. I remember feeling both drawn to them and intimidated by their toughness, wanting their approval but also sensing something dangerous about their behavior.

I had a cool BMX bike, and we used to do this thing called ghost rider, where we would ride the bike and then hop off and let the bike keep going on its own. One time some bad kid ghost rode my bike and let it smash directly into a wall, which caused the top tube to separate from the head tube, and the bike was ruined.

Our neighbor was a welder and said the bike was cooked. My dad disagreed and said that guy probably failed welding school. I asked him what welding school was, and my dad yelled at me for asking a stupid question. My mom said, "What's your dad going to do? Fix it with his silicone?" My dad used caulking silicone to fix all kinds of things in a sloppy way my mom didn't approve of.

In grade 3 I got into a couple of fights. Once during recess some kid was annoying me, so I walked over to him, and then he started side kicking me in the stomach. I was totally not prepared for that, but then we started wrestling on the ground. Then this grownup came by and told us to stop, and I was like, "What are you, a detective?" And he was like, "Yes." Then that bitch of a grownup called the teachers on us, and I had to go to the principal's office. My mom had to come pick me up, and she was so angry with me. I was crying and telling her I didn't start it and he kicked me, but my mom just kept blaming me and refused to hear my side of the story.

Another time I was in this group project and got into a disagreement about something. This kid was like, "Want to fight over it during recess?" and I was like, "Okay," and this other kid said, "He knows jujutsu," and I was like, "Whatever." Then during recess I got wrestled and beat up bad, and I ran away crying. This girl who liked me called after me, but I didn't care about her so I just cried and ran away.

During grade 3 I also got into trouble when I took out a library book and used this girl's name Sally. I can't remember why I did that, but someone found out and I got detention. I had to write like 40 times that I would not do it again. I named my pet rat after Sally - I think I had a crush on her but couldn't express it.

Kids used to say I looked like Snow, the rapper. I had a hard time concentrating and reading in grade 3. I couldn't finish the literature we were assigned. I was in the advanced math class but regular English class due to lack of concentration, though I was obviously intelligent.

I had a dream the girls in this school were cutting off the boys' penises - we were all lined up getting our dicks cut off. I had another dream where I thought all the girls at school actually had penises but wore vagina masks on top of their penises to hide them.

I was seeking approval from "bad" kids and getting into fights, showing a pattern of seeking male validation in the absence of a father figure. My inability to express affection healthily (naming my rat after Sally) and the violent dreams about gender indicate confusion about identity and relationships. Children without stable father figures often seek validation from other males, sometimes negative influences. The dreams about gender violence reflect deep-seated fears and confusion about identity that can develop when children don't have healthy models for relationships. My mother's inability to hear my side of the story shows how survival-mode parenting can miss a child's emotional needs. Freud would interpret the castration dreams as Oedipal anxiety - fear of punishment for forbidden desires. Jung would see them as symbols of my undeveloped masculine identity and confusion about gender roles.

We moved from the townhouse into another townhouse in UTM (University of Toronto in Mississauga), which used to be called Erindale College. It was in a wealthy part of Mississauga, but we were obviously very poor. Wealthy kids at school used to tease us for living in a townhouse, saying they hated poor people and asking why we were living on a university campus? I remember feeling ashamed of our living situation, acutely aware of the class differences that separated me from my classmates.

Michelle Chow taught me origami - I learned the crane, two kinds of lilies, and a star from a long strip of paper. Michelle hated Chinese people and said she was from Hong Kong, not Chinese. One recess a bunch of girls from HK chased me because they liked me, but I was scared, so I threw a little metal bead at them while I was running away, and it hit one in the face and hurt her. I felt bad about that.

Another time the same girls were chasing me, and Michelle was one of them. She grabbed me, and I kicked her between the legs. That hurt her, and I got sent to detention. I sat inside for recess for a week in the principal's office with the baddest kid in the school - he had a bad reputation and was always in detention.

We lived at the UTM family residence from grades 4 until the end of grade 8. There was a family residence area at UTM with other families and lots of single moms. One of the single moms from Poland taught me piano for a year or two, but after a while, I didn't want to play anymore, so we just stopped going. We didn't have a real piano, just a shitty keyboard my dad bought us. It had easy-to-press keys, so I never really developed finger strength, and the teacher would get angry at me for not having strong enough fingers.

I had a friend named Chris Cashmore in grade 4 who would get bullied, and I helped stand up for him. One time some bullies were stealing his socks, and I would get the socks back and give them to him. In grade 7 he literally broke up with me because he wanted to be friends with that exact same group of bullies. We were sitting on the bus, and he said he couldn't be friends with me because I wasn't cool and he wanted more friends.

I remember having a lot of fun during recess at Sawmill Valley, playing in the field.

I continued to react aggressively when feeling threatened (kicking Michelle), showing how trauma from my father's behavior influenced my responses. The friendship with Chris showed a pattern of forming attachments that would later be broken when social status became involved. Children model the behavior they see at home. My aggressive reactions when feeling scared or threatened mirrored what I experienced with my father. The instability in friendships taught me that relationships can be transactional, a lesson that would affect my ability to trust others later in life. Living in an environment with mostly single moms meant I lacked positive male role models. The Tao teaches that aggression arises from fear. My reactions were not just learned behavior but a manifestation of the fear instilled by my father's abuse.

Michelle teaching me origami wasn't just a childhood activity; it represented the Chinese philosophical concept of gongfu (功夫) - mastery through patient practice. This contrasted with the instant gratification culture of my white peers, planting seeds for my later technical discipline. The Chinese approach to learning - methodical, respectful of tradition, focused on process over immediate results - provided an alternative model to the mediocrity I encountered in Canadian schools.

Mr. Price was my grade 5 teacher - my first time with a male teacher. He was Welsh, and I did very well in grade 5. I remember my dad getting angry at me because a kid from school said hi and I didn't respond. I was in my head a lot as a kid, often lost in my own thoughts, disconnected from the social world around me.

I was friends with Victor Kazikovic. He lived in UTM also but in a different part of the campus. I'd ride my bike down to his area and we would ride bikes and hang out. He also didn't have a dad around - his dad was in Bulgaria, and he was Bulgarian. He didn't speak English in grade 4, but by grade 5 his English was good.

I always kind of looked down on him since he seemed weaker and more timid than me, and he always just followed me around like a lost dog. I guess back then I had more contact with my dad so I had more masculinity than him, but I didn't have a lot of masculinity given how I got teased at school. I guess guys whose dads aren't around end up less masculine, maybe. Victor also had a sister, but I don't think she played with my sister, or at least I can't remember if they did.

Having a male teacher for the first time coincided with academic success, showing the positive impact of male authority figures. My relationship with Victor revealed how I was already developing a hierarchy based on perceived masculinity, even though I lacked confidence in my own. The absence of consistent male role models creates a vacuum that children try to fill with their own understandings of masculinity. My tendency to look down on Victor for being less masculine reflected my own insecurities and the limited models I had for healthy masculinity. This pattern of judging others based on perceived strength or weakness would continue into adulthood. Confucius emphasized the importance of proper role models. My academic improvement with a male teacher demonstrated how crucial positive male authority figures are for a child's development.

I sat beside bad kids in grade 6 and was influenced by them. I always wanted approval of males, so I tried to be bad. My grades were bad this year. We had three teachers - only supposed to have one, but our real teacher was away for an extended period, so we had 2 long-term substitute teachers. The lack of consistency in teaching led to me not caring as much.

One time I had to do a group project with this kid from Serbia who was totally stupid, and I did all the work. One time I got frustrated with him and raised my voice and asked him to do something for the project, and the teacher said I shouldn't be making him do things, so I went back to doing all the work.

They used to put ESL and stupid kids in the ESL class, so that ESL to us just meant stupid. At Sawmill Valley Public School, we seemed to have a lot of immigrants with disabilities. I fell behind in my coursework because all I did was chat with the bad kids, and the teacher just forgave us. If you fell behind enough, they just erased the requirements.

I went to Chris Cashmore's house sometimes. He had all these little toy Star Trek ships and Star Trek playing cards. He and his brother Drew had a lot of stuff because they were rich. I think he gave me cards and toys. I'd go home and poke burning hot paperclips into the space ships to make them look like they had been in a Star Trek phaser and photon torpedo battle. I often destroyed things for fun.

Chris came over one time, and we played in my mom's room and jumped on her bed, which was just a mattress on the floor.

My desire for male approval led me to adopt behaviors that weren't authentic to who I was. The tendency to destroy things (Star Trek toys) reflected internal anger and lack of control over my life circumstances. Children without strong male role models often seek approval from other males, sometimes adopting negative behaviors to fit in. The destruction of toys was a manifestation of anger and frustration that I couldn't express directly. The educational system's lack of consistency and low expectations mirrored the instability I experienced at home. The Buddhist concept of attachment explains my destructive behavior - I was attached to the idea of gaining male approval, leading to suffering when I couldn't achieve it authentically.

I first sat beside Danny West and across Victor Kazikovic and Stephen Campbell. The Anglo kids were bitches and called me gay all the time, and I didn't know why. I had medium-length hair and looked feminine, maybe that was why. The constant teasing about my appearance confused me and made me self-conscious about how I presented myself to the world.

Then I got moved to a table with Vasanth, Aniruddho, and Victor. I later threw Victor under the bus and Jonathan Lee sat with us. I felt bad about Victor.

I was beginning to experience social rejection based on my appearance and mannerisms, which would later contribute to my confusion about gender identity. The betrayal of Victor showed how I would sacrifice relationships for social acceptance. The social challenges I faced at school were compounded by the lack of guidance at home in navigating these issues. Without a strong parental figure to help me understand and cope with social rejection, I developed patterns of betrayal and people-pleasing that would persist into adulthood. Jung would see this as the beginning of my persona development - the social mask I created to fit in, which would later conflict with my true self.

I barely survived grade 8. We had the most useless teacher named Ms. Civerio, who was Italian and a music teacher. She was extremely stupid and had a hard time teaching Canadian difficulty level grade 8 algebra. She used to ask the gifted class teacher to come teach us math, and it was so basic the teacher would be done in like 15 minutes.

Ms. Civerio forced us to do singing & dancing, which was painfully embarrassing. She couldn't handle our class; we were so rowdy she would cry in front of us, not able to control us. She would then run out of the classroom to get this big behemoth of a lady who would yell at us until we shut up.

The educational system continued to fail me, with teachers who were ineffective and unable to control the classroom. This lack of structure and guidance mirrored what I was experiencing at home. Children in unstable home situations often need more support from schools, not less. The failure of the educational system to provide structure and guidance compounded the challenges I faced at home. Without strong parental advocacy, I fell through the cracks of a system that should have been a safety net. The mediocrity I encountered in Canadian education foreshadowed what I would later see in Canadian institutions like Statistics Canada - a culture of low expectations protected by systemic privilege.

My mom finished university, and we had to leave the UTM campus where we had been living. We moved to a very white, lower-class neighborhood. When I introduced myself and said I came from Homelands, they were like, "Oh, is that the school with all the Pakis?" These were very bad kids who listened to Marilyn Manson, Slipknot, and Korn. I already liked Korn, but they introduced me to all this other awful music. I wanted to make new friends, but these kids were tough.

Within a month or so, I was being called girl and fag. I also tried to be a bully in the beginning but wasn't good at it. I tried to tease this one kid whose last name was Semen, and he was like, "That's all you can come up with?" and then that was it - I wasn't a good bully. I eventually spent all my time with this one kid named Alex who came from a German family. We'd go to Walmart every day for lunch, and he'd eat McDonald's. Sometimes I would get a loaded beef patty at this mall. It was a very ghetto area in Mississauga called Meadowvale, and it was nowhere near any of my old friends, so I was so isolated and depressed during this year.

I started dying my hair black. There was this really gay kid named Carling who had dozens of girlfriends in grade 8, and he said, "You have to get a girlfriend otherwise people will think you are gay." I liked this one Indian girl named Navi who painted my nails because I wanted to be goth. I had low self-esteem and tried to be liked by bad guys. This is a recurring theme - wanting to fit in but the kids are all bad for some reason.

Because my math education was so lacking in grade 8, I had a hard time in grade 9 math. Additionally, the Ontario fucking government changed the school curriculum, and when I went to grade 9, it was all new material that none of the students were prepared for and none of the teachers had prepared for either. I barely understood what was going on in grade 9 math.

I continued to seek acceptance from negative influences, showing a pattern of low self-worth and seeking validation from others. The isolation and depression I experienced were compounded by the lack of guidance at home. Children without strong parental guidance often seek acceptance in unhealthy ways. The lack of academic preparation in grade 8, combined with the curriculum change, set me up for failure in grade 9 math. This shows how educational instability can have long-lasting effects on academic outcomes. My mother's focus on her own survival meant she missed the signs of my depression and isolation. The Buddhist concept of dukkha (suffering) explains my depression - it arose from attachment to external validation and the inability to find inner peace.

After developing severe depression in grade 9, the owners of the townhouse we were renting decided to sell, so we had to move! We moved back to Erindale, and I was reunited with some people I knew but not my actual friends from grade 7 and 8. People didn't recognize me because I was so depressed looking. I ate lunch by myself and spent the lunch hour in the library reading books, trying to disappear into the pages of stories that felt safer than my own life.

My first introduction to Buddhism came from reading a book by the Dalai Lama. I also started reading feminist books my mom had lying around. I became more self-aware of my own sexist and racist thoughts and became horrified. I didn't want to be like my dad who was very sexist and racist. I then thought all men were evil and I didn't want to be a man.

My dad always had a big beer belly, and I was genuinely afraid of developing a beer belly. I was starting puberty & my body was changing. I didn't like these changes because I was starting to look more like my dad. I was in shock. My mom also gave me this book to read called "The World According to Garp" featuring a transsexual character, and this normalized the idea of changing gender. I also read "A Prayer for Owen Meaney," a book about a priest who never had sex. All this negating of masculinity and sexuality was setting the stage for my gender transition.

I was seeking answers in books and philosophy, showing a pattern of intellectualizing my problems rather than dealing with emotions directly. The fear of becoming like my father was so strong that I was rejecting my own masculinity. Without proper guidance during puberty, children can develop extreme reactions to normal bodily changes. My mother's feminist influence, combined with my fear of becoming like my abusive father, led me to reject masculinity entirely. This intellectual approach to emotional problems would become a pattern that would persist into adulthood. Freud would see my rejection of masculinity as a defense mechanism against identifying with my abusive father. Jung would view it as an attempt to integrate my anima (feminine side) without first developing a healthy masculine identity.

I got a job at Hy and Zel's Grocery and Pharmacy and learned how to operate cash. This was my first experience with formal employment, and I remember feeling both proud and nervous, wanting to do well but not really knowing what I was doing. The responsibility of a job felt both overwhelming and liberating - a chance to prove myself in the adult world.

I went to SEE (School of Experiential Education), an alternative school in North Etobicoke. It was all white kids and all male white teachers except for one Black math teacher. I changed my gender here from male to female. My mom did her teaching practicum at this alternative school and suggested I go to this school. Was this a conflict of interest? Why did my sister not go to alternative school? Alternative school enabled my gender change when that turned out to be harmful both physically and mentally & academically since I was not taking math & science courses, just a bunch of art & poetry.

I was good at math & computers, but when my mom said that to my English teacher Dave, he said, "People change." Dave told me God played a cruel joke on me because I looked funny as a guy but beautiful as a woman.

My mother's influence led me down a path that wasn't right for me, showing how parental guidance, even when well-intentioned, can be misguided. The gender transition was a response to deeper issues of identity and acceptance that weren't being addressed. Major life decisions, especially during adolescence, need to be made with proper guidance and consideration of long-term consequences. The absence of a father figure and the presence of a mother in survival mode meant I didn't have the balanced perspective needed for such a significant decision. The transition was an attempt to solve deeper issues of identity and acceptance that required different approaches. From a Freudian perspective, my gender transition can be seen as a defense mechanism against unresolved Oedipal conflicts - rejecting my father's masculinity to escape identification with his abusive traits. Jung would view this as an incomplete attempt at individuation.

I did my volunteer practicum at Supporting Our Youth (SOY), where I helped with admin tasks and with groups such as Essence (some kind of spirituality group) and Transfusion Crew (which was some trans kids eating dinner and hanging out). I went to The 519 often for the meal trans club, which was also a free meal and social opportunity. These spaces felt like the first places where I truly belonged, where I could be myself without fear of judgment or rejection.

I also attended a trans support group from Central Toronto Youth Services called Trans something (I'd have to find the name). We met at the Sherbourne Health Center and again had free pizza and talked about our feelings. People said I wasn't breathing I was so stiff, but by the end of the group, I was more open. I learned to think I could go around telling strangers all my deepest feelings as if that was totally normal.

With SOY, I remember going to workshops on sensitivity training, learning empathy and how to answer questions like "why are there so many fat lesbians" on the spot in front of a bunch of fat lesbians.

I was seeking community and acceptance in the LGBTQ+ world, which provided a sense of belonging I hadn't experienced elsewhere. The tendency to overshare personal information was a pattern that would continue in other contexts. Finding community is important, but it's also crucial to develop healthy boundaries around self-disclosure. The workshops on sensitivity training were valuable, but the approach of answering personal questions in front of others wasn't always healthy. The search for identity and belonging is a fundamental human need, but it needs to be balanced with self-awareness and discernment. The Buddhist concept of right speech teaches that communication should be truthful, useful, and timely. My tendency to overshare violated this principle, showing how my search for belonging sometimes overrode healthy boundaries.

I worked as an Office Assistant for the LGBTQ Services Office at U of T, where I designed posters for events on campus. This job felt like a natural extension of my identity at the time, fully immersed in the LGBTQ+ community I had found. The work was creative and meaningful, and I felt like I was contributing to something important.

I also started studying Art and Art History, taking courses in Women's Studies (where I wrote two essays), Art History, Visual Studies, and Psychology. I failed first-year Psychology because I had no idea how to study, and it required a lot of studying for understanding the nervous system and all that.

I was exploring different fields and work experiences, showing a lack of clear direction. The failure in Psychology showed that I hadn't developed effective study habits, which was partly due to the lack of academic guidance growing up. The exploration phase is normal for young adults, but without proper guidance, it can lead to scattered efforts and lack of focus. Developing effective study habits requires self-discipline that wasn't nurtured in my earlier education. The Tao teaches that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. My scattered exploration was necessary but lacked the focused intention that comes from self-knowledge.

At OCAD, I worked as a Page, putting books away but also spending a lot of time reading art books. The quiet of the library provided a refuge from the chaos of my inner world, and I absorbed myself in the images and ideas, finding solace in the creativity of others.

Later, I worked as an Image Scanner, digitizing 35mm slides using a professional film scanner and honing my Photoshop skills for adjusting and cleaning scans. This technical work appealed to my analytical side, and I found satisfaction in the precision and attention to detail required.

I also took Foundation Studies at OCADU, including Drawing and Sculpture. By the end of first year, my mom took a look at one of my drawings and said, "I hate to say it, but you draw like your dad." In Sculpture, I made molds of my arms. The comparison to my father stung deeply, a reminder that no matter how hard I tried to escape him, he remained a part of me.

Additionally, I worked as Maintenance Staff at Apple Tree Housing Co-op, where I painted apartments, dug fence posts in the blazing sun, built a fence, used skill saws, sawsalls, hammers, and drills, and raked gravel to make gravel walkways. The physical labor was exhausting but satisfying in a way that intellectual work wasn't - I could see the results of my efforts immediately.

I also worked as Cleaning Staff at Hostel Samesun Backpackers, where I worked with Australian, British, Japanese, and German coworkers and met my French friends, Kolia and Anne. The international environment exposed me to different cultures and ways of thinking, broadening my perspective beyond the Canadian context I had always known.

The comparison to my father in my drawing ability shows how his presence, even when negative, continued to influence my self-perception. I was taking on various manual jobs to support myself while studying. Working various jobs while studying taught me responsibility and time management, but the varied experiences didn't yet point to a clear career path. The continued comparison to my father showed how deeply his influence affected my self-image.

Working with Japanese coworkers at the hostel provided my first exposure to Japanese work ethic and attention to detail, which contrasted sharply with the mediocrity I had experienced in Canadian institutions. This planted seeds for my later appreciation of Japanese concepts like shokunin (craftsmanship).

I worked at Loomis Art Store on West Broadway, which was a very lame job. They made me reorganize things constantly and watch for shoplifters. I shoplifted there and was fired because I told someone I was shoplifting. The self-destructive behavior felt automatic, a pattern I couldn't seem to break no matter how much I wanted to change.

Then I worked as a Barista at Blenz on Granville and Davie St., where I worked with mostly Japanese staff. We went to dinner parties and did all-nighters together. The Japanese approach to work was completely different from what I was used to - there was a quiet dignity to their labor, a sense of pride in doing things correctly that I had never seen before.

After that, I worked as a Busboy at Bluewater, which was my first high-paying job with high tips. It was my first introduction to fine dining and wine. The restaurant had a sushi bar with real Japanese sushi chefs, and I worked with staff from Brazil, Peru, Alberta, Quebec, France, Ottawa, Germany, Portugal, Jamaica, and Singapore.

I continued to engage in self-destructive behaviors (shoplifting) that led to negative consequences. The pattern of seeking acceptance in different social groups continued, as did the lack of clear career direction. Self-destructive behaviors often stem from deeper issues of self-worth and identity. The exposure to different cultures and work environments was valuable, but without a clear sense of direction, these experiences didn't translate into a coherent career path. The Buddhist concept of right livelihood teaches that work should be ethical and not cause harm to oneself or others. My shoplifting violated this principle, showing how my unresolved pain manifested in harmful actions.

Working with Japanese staff at Blenz introduced me to concepts like shokunin (職人) - the craftsman's dedication to perfecting one's art, and wa (和) - group harmony. These values contrasted sharply with the individualism and superficial relationships I experienced with white coworkers. Japanese workplace culture demonstrated how collective responsibility and attention to detail create excellence. This experience showed me that there are alternative models of masculinity and professionalism beyond the toxic patterns I had observed in white Canadian society.

After my miserable year in Vancouver living in squalor, I came back to Toronto and found a job as a barback in Yorkville at One Restaurant. I worked with people from Bangladesh, Russia, Iran, white Toronto folk, and people from St. Catherine's. Saim from Bangladesh taught me bartending and the expression "hard at work, hardly working." His generosity and willingness to share his knowledge stood in stark contrast to the transactional relationships I had experienced with white authority figures.

I had sex reassignment surgery in Montreal by Dr. Pierre Brassard. I just wanted to escape my sexual desires and I wanted to be normal. I'd been living as a woman for 7 years and was tired of having to hide my penis. I thought the operation would literally make me into a different person. Deep down I knew I didn't want this, but I felt trapped by the decisions I made at 16 to change my gender. The fear and confusion that drove this decision were overwhelming, and I couldn't see any other way out of the pain I was experiencing.

I worked as a Bartender at Hackney Empire Theatre in London, UK, but only for a few weeks. It would have been a super cool job, but I kept getting UTIs and had to be hospitalized for a kidney infection. I probably could have asked for the job after I got back from being sick, but they said to me on the phone, "Oh, do you get sick often?" I used to be so healthy. The physical toll of the surgery manifested in ways I hadn't anticipated, my body rejecting what my mind thought it wanted.

Later that year, I worked as a Server at First Out, the first LGBTQ Cafe in London. I didn't like the owners.

I made a major life decision based on a desire to escape rather than from authentic self-understanding. The health problems following surgery may have been physical manifestations of internal conflict. Major medical decisions should be made from a place of self-understanding, not from a desire to escape problems. The aftermath of the surgery showed that changing my body didn't resolve the underlying issues. The health problems that followed were a physical manifestation of the internal conflict I was experiencing. Freud would see the surgery as an extreme form of repression - an attempt to eliminate unwanted desires rather than understand and integrate them. Jung would view it as a failed attempt at individuation, trying to change the external self without first integrating the internal self.

Saim from Bangladesh represented hospitality and generosity without expectation - teaching me bartending not as a transaction but as cultural transmission. This contrasted with the transactional relationships I experienced with white authority figures. Bangladeshi culture's emphasis on community and mutual support provided a model of healthy masculinity different from both my father's abusiveness and the toxic masculinity of white coworkers.

I practiced Yoga at Octopus Garden Yoga in the Annex in Toronto for two years of intensive training (at least 3 times per week) in Astanga style. The physical discipline of yoga provided a structure my life had been lacking, and I found myself looking forward to the practice as a way to center myself and find some peace amid the chaos of my thoughts and emotions.

I got involved with Bike Pirates, where I learned how to fix bikes and built my first bike and wheelset by teaching myself and asking for help. I applied for a job at Urbane after gaining experience there. The process of learning to repair bikes gave me a sense of competence and mastery that was deeply satisfying, a feeling I hadn't experienced in my academic or work life.

I worked as a Bike Mechanic at Urbane, a workers co-op bike shop founded by former couriers (two men and two women: one Chinese man, one Chinese Jamaican man, and two white ladies). Rob, this guy who hired me, had a crush on me. Mike the Bike and I went on a couple of rides together - I thought he just wanted to be friends, but he kissed me on the cheek one time, and then I realized he liked me, and I didn't handle it very well.

I was beginning to develop discipline through yoga and practical skills through bike mechanics, but I continued to struggle with interpersonal relationships and boundaries. Developing discipline and practical skills is important for personal growth, but emotional intelligence and boundary-setting are equally important. The pattern of not handling interpersonal situations well showed that I still had work to do on understanding and communicating my boundaries. The Tao teaches that true strength comes from flexibility, not rigidity. My yoga practice was teaching me this principle, but I hadn't yet applied it to my emotional life.

I studied Tai Chi at The School of Rising Sun Toronto for a year, learning the Yang long form, but it was a modified for white people style from an HK master. I quit because I wanted to do Aikido. The Westernized version felt inauthentic, lacking the depth and tradition I craved in my search for genuine martial arts practice.

I was seeking structure and meaning through disciplined practices, showing a desire for personal growth and self-improvement. The search for authentic teachings is important, but it's also crucial to recognize when something has been diluted for Western consumption. My desire to move on to Aikido showed a growing interest in more rigorous practice. The Taoist concept of authenticity was important here - I recognized that the Westernized version of Tai Chi lacked the depth I was seeking.

I began extensive training at the Shiatsu School of Canada, studying Shiatsu Practice (413 hrs), Shiatsu Treatment (220 hrs), Shiatsu Theory (150 hrs), Fundamentals of Traditional Chinese Medicine (100 hrs), Human Anatomy (200 hrs), Human Pathology and Symptomatology (250 hrs), Human Physiology (200 hrs), and many other courses. The study of traditional Chinese medicine opened my mind to different ways of understanding health and the body, complementing the Western approaches I had encountered.

I practiced with Tao Sangha, receiving the Okamisori ceremony from Ryokyu Endo Sensei. I practiced nembutsu for 1 hour every morning with Maria Lee Sheng Sun for over a year before she moved back to Taiwan. I chanted the Heart Sutra in Japanese and had it memorized at one point. The daily practice became a anchor in my life, a time of stillness and reflection that I desperately needed.

We did workshops called The Heart of Communication, where I developed advanced empathy and communication skills. I learned how to listen and cut directly through intellectualisms to get to the heart of what people are saying, how to feel someone's pain, and how to feel the love of Amida Buddha. During chanting, I cried one time and realized I was just avoiding myself.

I was seeking deeper meaning and structure through disciplined practices. The realization during chanting that I was avoiding myself was a breakthrough moment of self-awareness. The realization that I was avoiding myself was a crucial moment of self-awareness that would lead to greater authenticity. The communication skills I developed would become valuable in all areas of my life. The Buddhist concept of mindfulness was central here. Through chanting and communication practice, I was developing the ability to be present with myself and others without avoidance.

I practiced Aikido at Naka Ima for almost 2 years of intensive training (3 to 4 times per week). I went to Aikido summer camp and did 7 days of Aikido with hundreds of aikidoka. I got a super bad sunburn on my chest on my first day, so I had a skin peeling sunburn the whole time, which was painful, but I soldiered on. The physical intensity of the training pushed me beyond my limits, teaching me resilience and perseverance.

I moved in with one of my senseis but he was abusive to his girlfriend, so I asked him to leave because I found the apartment. I earned 4th kyu before falling out with the dojo over that incident. The decision to stand up to my teacher was terrifying but necessary, marking a turning point in my ability to set boundaries with authority figures.

I continued to struggle with setting boundaries in relationships, especially with authority figures. The pattern of getting involved with people who had boundary issues mirrored the dynamic I had with my father. Setting boundaries with authority figures is crucial, even when it means losing something valuable (like the dojo community). The pattern of getting involved with abusive authority figures showed I still had work to do on recognizing and responding to unhealthy relationship dynamics. Aikido teaches blending with energy rather than opposing it. By setting boundaries with my abusive sensei, I was finally applying this principle to my relationships rather than just my physical practice.

I worked as a Bike Mechanic at Cycle Solutions. I felt insulted by my coworkers at Urbane for classifying me as a lower mechanic than some younger kids named Sarah and Alex, so I quit and got a better-paying job at Cycle Solutions, a more manly mountain bike shop. I got to work with toxic men and got a mountain bike, but I only went cycling 3 times in one summer because it rained a lot. Toronto sucks for recreational cycling. The environment was hyper-masculine and toxic, but I was drawn to it, still seeking that male validation I had never received.

There were fewer mechanics at Cycle Solutions, so I got more responsibility and finally got some hands-on experience with mountain bikes and high-end road bikes. I gained more confidence as a mechanic, and the other shop guys were more supportive and knowledgeable in general. Kale, the shop owner, was racist sometimes, and the two main mechanics were white and used to make fun of Roddie, who was Taiwanese but had dreadlocks. They'd make Asian jokes. I told Kale Roddie was a good guy, but I think I could have stood up for him more in the moment. Roddie was also an insecure Asian man who always wanted the approval of the white mechanics and often wasn't that nice to me but sometimes was nice. Max worked at Cycle Solutions - I met Max at Urbane, but he was kind of a sloppy mechanic and in general a sloppy pot head, but he was also a very nice guy.

Because I went to alternative high school, I had no science or math courses after grade 10. Before going to York University, I needed to complete Grade 11 math, Grade 11 physics, Grade 11 chemistry, Grade 12 math, and Grade 12 physics. The task felt overwhelming, but I was determined to catch up and prove that I could succeed academically despite my unconventional educational path.

I was seeking male approval and validation in work environments, and I struggled with standing up against racism when I witnessed it. The need to catch up academically showed the long-term consequences of my earlier educational choices. Standing up against injustice, even when it's uncomfortable, is essential for personal integrity. The academic catch-up work showed that our earlier choices have long-term consequences, but it's never too late to address them.

The racism I witnessed at Cycle Solutions - the white mechanics making fun of Roddie - was a microcosm of the systemic privilege I would later observe at Statistics Canada. My failure to stand up more strongly against it reflected my own internalized racism and desire for approval from white authority figures.

I practiced BJJ at Toronto BJJ. Even though I had been practicing Aikido for 2 years and was an avid cyclist doing circuit training and weight lifting, I was seriously challenged by the level of exercise in the warmups and practice at this school. I threw up once during class and ran into the bathroom. We did lots of stuff like burpees and kneeling against walls. We learned muay thai and BJJ. I got suckered into signing up for a year but could only handle about 3 or 4 months. Did I waste money on this place? It was a lesson in not taking on too much. I was going to university and had to commute.

I tended to overcommit and then burn out, showing a pattern of not recognizing my own limits. The desire to prove myself physically was still strong. Knowing your limits and not overcommitting is important for sustainability. The desire to prove oneself can lead to taking on too much, resulting in burnout and wasted resources. The Tao teaches the importance of balance. My tendency to overcommit violated this principle, leading to burnout rather than sustainable growth.

I attended York University, where I worked as a Neuroscience Research Assistant, developing an efficient and accurate method for locating and tracing regions of the brain and researching their structure and function. The work was fascinating and challenging, giving me my first real experience with scientific research and laboratory work.

In 2013, Paul from York, a middle eastern friend, told me I didn't deserve to be white. His comment hit me like a physical blow, leaving me stunned and confused. I had never really thought about my whiteness as something that could be undeserved, and his words opened a door to questions about privilege and identity that would take years to fully explore. At the time, I was hurt and defensive, unable to understand what he meant, but the seed was planted.

I was finally pursuing higher education in a scientific field, showing academic growth and the ability to focus on complex subjects. Returning to academia after a break showed resilience and the ability to apply myself to challenging subjects. The research position provided valuable experience in a professional setting. Jung would see this as the beginning of true individuation - developing my own path rather than following others' expectations. Paul's comment about not deserving to be white was an early confrontation with questions of privilege and identity that would become more central to my understanding in later years.

I went to the University of Ottawa for my Bachelor's degree in Statistics with a minor in Psychology. This was a challenging time as I had to catch up on many math and science courses I missed due to my alternative high school education. The coursework was demanding, and I often felt behind my classmates, but I was determined to succeed and prove to myself that I could handle rigorous academic work.

During my undergraduate studies, I met Nick and Blair who influenced my decision making. I followed them into the math department, but I struggled with the advanced mathematics. They were smooth talkers but had problematic views on the world. I was looking for people to help me because I was desperate after detransitioning. They helped me a lot, but they were racist, and I later realized they only helped me because I am white - this was the first time I really felt white privilege.

I continued to seek male approval and guidance, this time from Nick and Blair, which led me down a path that wasn't right for me. The pattern of not trusting my own instincts and seeking external validation continued. The desire for male guidance and approval, stemming from the absence of a father figure, led me to follow Nick and Blair despite my gut feelings about their racist views. This was a powerful lesson about trusting my own instincts and not blindly following others, even when they appear successful or knowledgeable. The realization of white privilege was uncomfortable but necessary for my growth. Confucius emphasized the importance of xin (信) - trustworthiness. My experience with Nick and Blair showed that trust must be earned through integrity, not just granted based on status or appearance of knowledge.

Nick's surprise at China's technological advancement revealed the colonial mindset still prevalent among white Canadians - the inability to recognize non-Western excellence. This contrasted sharply with the Chinese concept of gongfu (mastery through disciplined practice) that I had first encountered with Michelle Chow years earlier.

I worked as an Independent Tutor, providing math tutoring for high school and university students. Teaching others helped solidify my own understanding of mathematical concepts, and I found satisfaction in helping students overcome their struggles with subjects that had once challenged me.

I worked as a Natural Language Processing Research Assistant at the University of Ottawa, doing text mining and machine learning work, contributing to poster and oral presentations, and a paper publication in conference proceedings. The research combined my interests in language, technology, and analytical thinking, pointing toward the direction my career would eventually take.

I was developing technical skills and gaining academic experience, but still struggling with finding my own path rather than following others. Developing technical expertise is valuable, but it's important to ensure that the path you're on aligns with your authentic self and values, not just with what others think you should do. The Tao teaches that the way that can be named is not the true way. My technical skills were developing, but I hadn't yet found my authentic path.

Since my dad molested my sister and me, we finally got him to admit it, and my mom encouraged us to call the cops. He was put in jail for 9 months. The decision to confront my father was terrifying but necessary. For years, I had carried the weight of his abuse in silence, and finally speaking up felt like reclaiming a part of myself that had been stolen.

I published "Automatic Classification of Poetry by Meter and Rhyme" in FLAIRS-29 conference proceedings. This was my first academic publication, a result of the natural language processing research I had been working on. Seeing my name in print felt validating, a small but significant milestone in my academic journey.

This was a pivotal moment of confronting the abuse that had shaped so much of my life. It marked a turning point in taking control of my narrative. Confronting past abuse, no matter how painful, is essential for healing. The legal consequences, while not erasing the trauma, provided a form of validation and justice that had been missing. This action showed growth in self-advocacy and setting boundaries. Jung would see this as integrating the shadow - confronting the darkest aspects of my past to reclaim my power.

I began my Master's program in Statistics at the University of Ottawa. This was a challenging but rewarding time as I delved deeper into statistical theory and applications. I was particularly interested in machine learning and its mathematical foundations. The program was rigorous, and there were moments when I doubted whether I could handle the advanced mathematics, but I persevered, driven by a growing fascination with the field.

I was finally finding my academic path, focusing on a field that combined my analytical skills with my interest in technology. Finding the right academic fit can transform learning from a chore into a passion. My master's program provided the structure and challenge I needed to develop my technical skills. The Tao teaches that when you find your true path, things flow naturally. My master's program represented this natural flow, where my interests and abilities aligned with my studies.

I focused on my thesis research, exploring generative adversarial networks (GANs) and their mathematical foundations. This involved deep study of game theory, information theory, and optimal transport - areas that fascinated me with their elegant mathematical structures. The research was intellectually stimulating, and I found myself lost in the beauty of the mathematical concepts for hours at a time.

I was drawn to complex theoretical frameworks that could explain phenomena, reflecting my lifelong pattern of seeking understanding through intellectual exploration. Deep theoretical work provides a foundation that can be applied to practical problems. My research on GANs would later inform my work in machine learning and data engineering. Jung would see this as the development of the self through deep engagement with complex symbolic systems - the mathematical language of GANs became a way to understand both artificial intelligence and my own psyche.

I completed my Master's thesis titled "An Introduction to Generative Adversarial Networks," a comprehensive survey of mathematical foundations including game theory, information theory, and optimal transport. This work represented the culmination of my academic journey and the beginning of my professional career in data science. Defending my thesis was nerve-wracking but ultimately empowering, a validation of the intellectual growth I had achieved.

I started working at the Consumer Prices Division at Statistics Canada. I learned how behind the Government of Canada is in terms of talent and knowledge. They do everything manually and use Excel, which makes reproducibility almost impossible, and SAS is so bad. They made me do a bunch of silly work making a machine learning classifier, but they never really used it or maybe they did, but it was junk. I learned our tax dollars are wasted on incompetence and nepotism - lots of husbands and wives and moms and dads all work at Statistics Canada. The white people hired a Chinese man to do a bunch of grunt work, and I didn't like that.

Ashraf Ahmed told me, "Everyone wants light skin." This struck me deeply, and I cry when I think about it. I've been in therapy with Ashraf since I detransitioned in 2012. His comment was like a key unlocking a door I hadn't even known was there, revealing the invisible systems of privilege that had shaped my life without my awareness.

I was becoming more aware of racial issues and my own privilege. The therapy with Ashraf showed a commitment to addressing deep-seated issues. Confronting uncomfortable truths about privilege and racial bias is essential for personal growth. The therapy showed a commitment to doing the hard work of self-examination. The Buddhist concept of right understanding requires seeing things as they truly are, without delusion. Ashraf's comment helped strip away my delusions about privilege.

Ashraf's comment "Everyone wants light skin" revealed the invisible privilege of whiteness that permeates Canadian institutions. The mediocrity I observed at Statistics Canada - the reliance on outdated tools, the nepotism, the racial dynamics - reflected how systemic privilege protects incompetence. The white people I encountered often displayed performative allyship without substantive action, unexamined entitlement, and racial attitudes masked behind politeness. The hiring of a Chinese man for grunt work while white employees occupied positions of authority showed how racial hierarchies persist even in supposedly multicultural institutions.

My Master's thesis on GANs provided the theoretical foundation for my later work in machine learning and data engineering. The completion of this degree marked a significant milestone in my professional development, giving me the credentials and knowledge to advance in the field of data science.

I started working at Health Canada as a data science consultant and lead data scientist. I led the design, development, and compliance of an AI-powered web application to automate health inspection report classification. Ensured adherence to F.A.I.R. data principles and federal standards while enhancing system security, data integrity, and cross-functional collaboration. The role was challenging but rewarding, giving me the opportunity to apply my technical skills to real-world problems that mattered.

I was advancing in my career, taking on leadership roles in my field. Career advancement can be validating, but it's important to ensure that the work aligns with your values and provides genuine satisfaction. The Tao teaches that true leadership comes from serving others. My leadership role was an opportunity to apply this principle.

This role represented a significant step in my technical journey, allowing me to apply my statistical background to real-world problems while developing leadership skills. The project demonstrated my ability to bridge technical expertise with practical implementation and compliance requirements.

I grew tired of data science and machine learning and finally got a software engineering type role at Statistics Canada as a Data Engineer. I designed and deployed scalable machine learning infrastructure on Kubernetes, leveraging Kubeflow and JupyterLab to optimize MLOps workflows. Spearheaded integration of SAS with JupyterLab, enabling secure migration to Python/R while improving user adoption. Built foundational Kubernetes expertise here, focusing on secure, production-grade system design. Secured operational authorization (ATO) through rigorous security protocols. This role felt like coming home to my true technical calling, combining my analytical background with infrastructure engineering in a way that felt authentic and fulfilling.

I practiced Wing Chun in Ottawa and learned how to chain punch. I got my hand cut open with 15 stitches because my sifu used Aikido and I went flying towards a wall with a metal piece, and my hand got cut open on the metal. The white doctor kept calling the Indian nurse Siri when his name was Sri. The injury was painful, but the casual racism of the doctor's inability to pronounce the nurse's name correctly was almost more hurtful.

I continued to be drawn to martial arts, and I witnessed ongoing racism in everyday situations. Racism is pervasive even in professional settings like hospitals. The injury showed that even in activities we enjoy, there can be risks, especially when proper safety precautions aren't taken.

The doctor's persistent mispronunciation of the Indian nurse's name exemplified the casual racism I had observed throughout my life in Canadian institutions. This microaggression reflected a broader pattern of white Canadians' failure to respect non-Western names and cultures.

This role marked a pivotal shift in my career from data science to data engineering and cloud infrastructure. Working with Kubernetes, Kubeflow, and JupyterLab allowed me to find my authentic technical voice, combining my analytical background with infrastructure engineering. This was where I truly began to apply the Chinese concept of gongfu - mastery through disciplined practice - to my technical work.

I became a Certified Kubernetes Application Developer. I used my work experience and personal Linux experience to get this cert. I no longer feel like an imposter. Stats wasn't for me. The certification was more than just a piece of paper; it was validation of the journey I had taken, the skills I had developed through years of disciplined practice and real-world experience.

My technical expertise now spans data science, cloud engineering, and DevOps, with special focus on Kubernetes, Kubeflow, and JupyterLab. I've led the design and deployment of scalable machine learning infrastructure, automated data pipelines, and secure AI applications. I've also contributed to several open-source projects, including zone-kubeflow-containers and namespace-cleaner at Statistics Canada. The journey from confused child to confident technical expert has been long and winding, but every step has taught me something valuable about myself and the world.

As I approach my 40th birthday, I find myself looking back at the winding path that brought me here. From the trauma of my childhood to the confusion of my transition, from the academic struggles to the professional achievements, every experience has shaped who I am today. I was finally finding my own path in the tech field, developing expertise and confidence through my own efforts rather than following others. Finding your own path and developing genuine expertise is crucial for building confidence and overcoming imposter syndrome. The certification represents a tangible achievement that I earned through my own efforts, not through following others. Recognizing that statistics wasn't the right field for me shows the importance of being true to yourself rather than sticking with something that doesn't fulfill you.

The Tao teaches that when you stop forcing things and follow your natural path, you find true fulfillment. My journey to Kubernetes certification exemplifies this principle - I found my authentic path through technical work rather than forcing myself into statistics.

My technical mastery in Kubernetes reflects the Chinese concept of gongfu (mastery through disciplined practice) that I first encountered with Michelle Chow in childhood. This achievement represents the integration of diverse cultural influences - Chinese discipline, Japanese craftsmanship, and Bangladeshi community values - that have shaped my professional identity more profoundly than the mediocrity I observed in white Canadian institutions.

This certification marked the culmination of my journey to find my authentic technical voice. It represents the integration of my analytical training with practical engineering skills, combining the theoretical knowledge from my statistics background with hands-on infrastructure expertise. The confidence I gained from this achievement reflects the Taoist principle of wu-wei - achieving mastery through natural development rather than forced effort.