memoir

As a doctor, having my family isolate away from me felt like the right thing to do at the time—but I never expected it to be this hard.

Inside the Black Students' Association Room at the University of Guelph, a sign appeared asking us to be quieter. We have one room to ourselves, in a basement, and our voices are policed even here.

'Sometimes we would think, Why shouldn’t we stay together? We love each other, and our marriage is about a lot more than sex.'

Other moms would be kissing their kids goodbye at the school gates as I raced in to the kiss-and-ride, scraping the side off my van. I couldn't figure out why, until I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

Learning to make cream pies and Yorkshire puddings was my personal escape—until the line between hobby and self-worth disappeared.