"I spent 17.5 years in active addiction. Six of those years I lived on the streets of Vancouver's Downtown Eastside. I know what it means to have nothing left. I also know what it feels like when something finds you anyway."
The Beginning
I was born Métis — a people who have always carried more than one world inside them. But for most of my life, that heritage was something I hadn't yet come to understand or fully claim. What I knew instead was addiction. It took hold early and held on for 17.5 years.
The Streets
Six of those years I lived homeless on the streets of Vancouver's Downtown Eastside — one of the rawest, most unforgiving places in this country. I know what it means to have nothing. No home. No identity. No bottom left to hit. I lived it.
The Turning Point — While Still in the Dark
About ten years ago — still deep in addiction, still on the streets — numerology found me. Not after I got clean. Not once I had my life together. It found me in the middle of the wreckage, and it showed me something I had never been given before: a picture of who I actually was. My Life Path. My Expression. My Soul Urge. The blueprint I had been living inside without ever knowing it existed. I couldn't unknow it. That knowledge became a thread I held in the dark — quietly, stubbornly — even when everything else was gone.
What It Revealed
The deeper I went into numerology and astrology, the more I understood about myself — including things I had no language for before. I am also Two-Spirited, in the original Indigenous understanding of that truth — not a label, not a category, but a recognition that I carry both masculine and feminine spirit. That I walk between worlds. That the depth I had always felt, the duality I had always lived, was not a flaw to be fixed. It was part of the blueprint. It took years of honest searching to understand that. Numerology gave me the framework to finally see it clearly.
Three Years Ago
I walked away from active addiction. Not because someone saved me — but because I had been quietly building a reason to live for years. The self-knowledge I had gathered in the dark finally had somewhere to go. I was not walking out blind. I had a map. I had built it myself, one hard truth at a time.
Now
I am rebuilding. And I am building RRR Insight — because I know there are people still where I was, in that darkness, who need someone to tell them the truth: that who you are is written in you, that it survived everything you've been through, and that it is never too late to read it.
Walking between worlds is something my Métis ancestry understands deeply. Being Two-Spirited — in the way that my people and many Indigenous nations have always understood it — means carrying a wholeness that others sometimes spend their whole lives searching for. The ability to hold opposing truths. To feel deeply from both sides. To sit with someone in their darkest place without flinching, because you have been there yourself and seen it from every angle.
Strength and softness are not opposites. They are partners. That is something I know not from a book — but from living it.
