Starting Over in a New Place

I first came to Canada from the Philippines believing it would be a new beginning, a chance to rebuild life with hope and determination. But only a few months after arriving, life changed in ways I never imagined. The foundation I had built cracked, and suddenly everything I thought I could rely on was gone.

To survive, I took on two full time jobs. Doing this meant I could provide for my kids but it also meant sacrificing almost everything else. Sleep was rare. Many times I stayed awake for 35 to 46 hours straight, working shift after shift and then coming home to care for my kids. My body was running on empty, but stopping didn't feel like an option.

I remember one night at work, I was sitting in front of the computer with tears that wouldn't stop. Silent cries that shook me inside, the kind where you want to scream but nothing comes out. My eyes were swollen but tears still kept falling uncontrollably. I tried to keep working but my mind couldn't focus, and my stress made me sick that I had to run to the washroom a lot of times to throw up. Then I had to return to my desk because I had no choice but to keep going. On nights like that, I would put on In Jesus Name by Katy Nichole and whisper the lyrics as a prayer to myself. That song became my lifeline when I didn't have the strength to pray my own words.

Sometimes after those night shifts, I would just walk home for about 40 mins even if it was very cold. Sometimes it's because I had missed the bus and I had to go home to my kids right away, other times it's because I was trying to save up because as soon as payday comes, almost everything just disappears. By the time rent was paid, I was left with nothing and sometimes, just a few cents.

Starting over in this country was really hard. It came with a lot of heartbreak and disappointment, and I learned slowly and painfully that not everyone I reached for was trustworthy. Even those who appeared good and religious could sometimes hurt you with their words and actions. The weight of it all pressed so heavily on me that I often wished people could be more discerning, more unselfish, that they could see how their choices might either ease someone's burden or make it heavier.

In the middle of it all, my deepest fear was the questions that never left me. That if I try to move forward, will I ever be enough for my kids? Strong enough to raise them on my own, to give them the stability and love they deserve? Yet in those moments of doubt, God reminded me that His strength is made perfect in weakness, and that with Him, I could be enough. This pushed me to move forward and take my children and start over in a place where we could finally breathe again.

When we moved into a new house, we had nothing with us but clothes, so we laid out our winter jackets on the floor and slept there. But for the first time in a long time, we felt safe. We felt free. We felt peace.

It wasn't easy. There were days when I had to rely on food banks just to make sure we had enough to eat. But then only two months after settling into our new place, I was able to buy a second hand car using my tax return. That car was a great blessing. It means my kids and I don't have to walk to school, and work at -40°C. No more tears too for my daughter who would usually cry when we wait for the bus in the freezing cold. That moment felt like God's quiet reminder that things, though still hard, were slowly getting better.

A year later, we had to move again. It came with new adjustments, new schools, new job, and new routines. But this time, we weren't as fragile as before. We were stronger, more grounded, and ready to keep moving forward.

Through it all, God has been my strength. He has carried me and my kids through nights of exhaustion, and days when I didn't know how we would keep going. And every morning when I wake up and see my kids beside me, I know that simply having them with me is enough reason to keep believing in a better tomorrow.

It is not easy to rebuild when you feel empty but survival itself is proof of strength. And no matter how slow the healing, with God, hope always finds a way.