On April 27, 2006 when Meg and I rounded the Race Rocks Lighthouse and the pitch dark of the ocean gave way to the lights of Victoria, I realized there was nothing in that city or entire country that I needed. What I needed, I had with me all along. I was with Meg. I was true with myself and I had a life that was my own. Our life at sea was dangerous and exhausting, but it was truly ours. We pointed the boat anywhere we wanted and it was up to us, what our day would be like. Over the months at sea, Meg and I got used to it. This "was" the freedom. Coming to Canada, I lost that freedom, and Meg lost it by association with me.
I resented what was happening with us. I couldn't understand why I had to be different from anybody else. Why our family couldn't go on doing what we wanted, and going where we wanted. Why I couldn't just be Meg's life partner. Why I had designation of an "immigrant," in need of a special treatment and endless paperwork. With each new tediously hard earned paper giving me back another right or freedom that was taken from me on the entry to Canada. I clawed my way to Meg's home, risking my life, not to be reprogrammed and tamed in Canada, or expecting anything from it. I did it to be with Meg. I never needed anybody to "save" me or permit me to have my rights. But Meg and I were told that this was what had to happen. So we plunged into the process of victimization and indoctrination and were only done with it more than a decade later, in September 2018. I won't be attending a Canadian citizenship ceremony.
Not only were Meg and I stripped of the freedom of movement and the right to plan our life, we were berated and demonized for wanting them back, by nearly every Canadian we met. Meg's own mother, later told her she should be stripped of her citizenship for living the way she wants and being outside of Canada for so long, trying to be with me! What we wanted: to be true to ourselves, to explore the world, to dream, to stand strong, be self-sufficient and confident is considered wrong in Canada, and is fiercely attacked. We had to get out of that environment. It was rescue mission number two. If we didn't escape that place, we would perish. Go insane. We needed to live again. To reclaim our lives, our dignity, our freedom.
In August 2012 we sailed out of Juan de Fuca straight and have been on the run ever since.