01/27/2026
Closing a Painful Chapter — and Finally Putting Me First
January 27th, 2026
The truth about society is harsh: many people want to see you hurt or fail. We’re living in dark times, and I’ve felt the weight of that reality since childhood.
I grew up in a northern Alberta town I’m not proud of — a place that was a living hell. A place where even the smallest mistake followed you for years, where being different made you a target, and where cruelty wasn’t an exception but a norm. That environment shaped far too much of my early life.
As someone who is an openly bisexual man, I spent years being mocked, bullied, and belittled. Even some of my own family cut me off because of who I am.
And the statistics I later learned only confirmed what I already knew firsthand: our community faces higher rates of homelessness, mental health struggles, job instability, and financial insecurity compared to our straight peers. I didn’t need data to understand that pain — I lived it long before I ever read the numbers.
I’ve endured more than I will ever fully put into words.
When someone uses your identity as a weapon — to isolate you, undermine your career, or silence you — that’s not just “unkind.” It’s abuse. And it’s heartbreakingly common.
As a man in a minority community, I’ve seen how some other men interpret my existence as a threat. Their insecurities become a license to bully, belittle, or harm. Their fear becomes my burden — a burden I never asked for and never deserved.
Truthfully, I don’t feel safe in Alberta — not with the state of our province today.
The hostility, the growing intolerance, the lack of meaningful workplace protections, and the constant pressure placed on marginalized people have made it harder and harder to exist here without fear.
Too many of us Albertans are struggling — financially, mentally, socially — and the systems that are supposed to support us often fail to do so.
For people like me, it’s not just discomfort; it’s an everyday sense of being unwelcome, unheard, or unsafe. And that reality has changed the way I move through the world, the way I trust, and the way I build relationships.
All of this has made me a loner — and with good reason. Trust isn’t something I give freely anymore, not even within my own community.
Today marks the official end of my time in the construction trades.
This chapter — nearly a decade long — brought more heartache than growth, more anxiety than stability, and more discrimination than any person should ever be expected to survive.
For almost 10 years, I pushed myself through an industry that rarely reflected who I am. I dealt with rumors, character attacks, condescension, and blatant discrimination because I’m 2SLGBTQIA+ — because I’m an openly bisexual man.
Most mornings, stepping onto a commercial or residential site meant fighting panic attacks, nausea, dread, and that crushing feeling in my chest that today might be another day I’d be belittled.
I tolerated some foremen speaking to me like a child.
I tolerated invasive comments about my life.
I tolerated being targeted, judged, and bullied.
That’s how deep trades bullying can cut.
And it did cut me — wide and deep.
I’m exhausted. I’m wounded. And I’m done.
But I will never tolerate it again.
I refuse to step into another commercial, industrial, or residential site — especially in Alberta, where worker protections often feel like an afterthought.
And if my leaving was the goal some of my bullies had, here’s your confirmation:
I will no longer participate in environments that allow disrespect, discrimination, or cruelty to thrive.
No job is worth being broken down.
No “opportunity” is worth losing your identity.
Life is too short for misery, and too precious to waste on people who choose cruelty over humanity.
So from this day forward, I am choosing:
❌ No more heartache.
❌ No more anxiety.
❌ No more panic attacks.
❌ No more being treated like I’m less than.
❌ No more bullying.
❌ No more being used as a target or weapon.
I’m choosing me — my future, my peace, my value.
And to anyone who believes tearing someone down until they want to disappear is acceptable:
Face the legal consequences of your actions.
Too many people — especially men — are dying because of relentless bullying. It needs to stop. Period.
Here’s to building a brand‑new career in a field that recognizes my worth, respects my identity, and supports me without judgment, prejudice, or harm.
This painful chapter?
Closed. Permanently. End of story.
[A sincere shoutout to the two electrical contractors in Edmonton, AB — Tempo Electrical and KVR Electric. In a sea of negativity, you were the rare examples of what respect in the trades should look like. Thank you for setting a standard others desperately need to follow.]
