“To protect my children, I’ve always lied about my work to their teachers and friend’s parents. I don’t want my children to be discriminated against because of other people’s stereotypical beliefs … Now they are getting older. They are strong and defiant. I am less in fear about how my decisions might impact their lives.”

“I was a stereotype. My upbringing was poor. I had a broken family and an absent father. My mom was on social assistance. I didn’t have any healthy role models in my life. Some people might draw a straight line from my birth to the day I first took my clothes off for money, like it was inevitable.”

“I thought about letting go of control of my partner. A piece of me felt relieved imagining it. I thought about letting go of control of my children. That was harder. A parent must control their children, mustn’t they? I asked myself this question many times over the next few years.”

“I thought I could heal myself and tried my best. But three years into the almost constant infections, I knew I had little choice anymore. I could have a horrible quality of life and die young. Or I could potentially improve my quality of life and see my grandchildren be born and raised. The second option left me with a permanent poop bag.”