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So I took this photo two years ago, on May 16th, 2023. I was unhoused, living in a hotel in Surrey, British Columbia. This was the prettiest spot I could find. I wanted to take a photo of myself, grounding myself. I wanted to remember that moment because I knew that things were going to
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I think I’ve been in mourning for longer than I realized. It wasn’t until my good friend started a podcast called Mourning People that I realized I am in mourning. I am grieving so much. The life that I thought I would have at this stage is definitely one of the things I am mourning.
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No, You Didn’t Choose Where You Ended Up, But Gather Your Supplies and Move Accordingly – DJH I mean, I didn’t “Choose” this path. I ended up unhoused because we missed paying rent by one fucking day, and “Failed” into a beautiful location with people I love and care about, who are in their ways,
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By the time I was five, I’d already been raped once, and molested once. A priest, and the baby-sitters boyfriend. Not in that order. I was already tired, but I knew deep down that I had big dreams, and for a little girl to say “I better have an interesting life, if I am going
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Dear Mark Carney, My name is Devon J Hall, and I am a survivor of over thirty years of childhood sex trafficking. I know what it means to be stripped of autonomy, silenced, and made to feel powerless. I know what it is to be taken from your family, to be told you don’t belong
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Let me talk to my over stiumlated, super traumatized, over healing, girls right now. Let me talk to the girls who are in their “Glow up and Heal” era, let me talk to the ladies who are perfectly fine being single, but are trying to understand what that looks like so they can still have
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It’s been a major while since I posted one of these, because I really don’t talk about my present life these days. I mostly talk about my past, as many of you already know. But as many of you also know, over the last few years I’ve been complaining ad nauseum, about the fact that
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Every year for Pride, except the last few years, I’ve planned a great outfit, done my hair and makeup, and had a great time being proud of being myself. Pride for me has always been an escape. When I go to Pride, I don’t – usually – have to worry about seeing my abusers, but
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I take deep offense to the term “Being woke,” because for a lot of decades in my life, I was hypnotized with mind altering drugs, and raped by grown white men, pretending to be something they weren’t to scare me into silence. For more than thirty years, it worked. Until they did it again, and
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I wasn’t in a fucking gang. I was a Princess, adopted by my stepfather’s family, and taken care of like a little girl who had the whole world waiting to see what she would become. I remember once a boy raped me, my grandfather’s family’s form of revenge wasn’t to go to the police. It
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I want to know that the little girl who went through Hell, just so that I could exist, didn’t go there alone, for no reason. I want her life to have had value and to matter. I was a child sex toy, and that’s it. My family had no idea, no one knew, at least
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It’s probably bad that I ran out of cannabis the same week I did mushrooms two nights in a row, right?/ I have learned that there is a huge crash after using mushrooms – having done it a half dozen times by now, I should know better. The cannabis helps with the crash; it helps
Loud Mouth Brown Girl 