Toronto Life

Image by An Le from Pixabay

You are a young woman living in Toronto. You came to the big city hoping to achieve your dream of being a fashion journalist, wishing to bring community through clothes. On your first day of university, you put on your best outfit: a fitted silky pink dress and cute pink high heels. You hope to be the next Elle Woods in her fashion era. As painful as your heels may be, you remind yourself that “beauty is pain.” 

Fashionably strolling the streets, you hear, “Hey, Barbie!” You see a houseless man following you, yelling such misogynistic remarks about you looking like the perfect plastic doll. You reflect about how society reduces Barbie’s character to her looks alone. “I guess the movie’s point didn’t hit everyone,” you muttered. A bystander watched the whole thing but didn’t help. Instead, she says, “It’s okay, it’s normal, just Toronto life.” What happened to girls standing together, you think. But this is just “Toronto Life,” right? 

After such an exhausting day, you want nothing more than to watch TV in your PJs with a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. But walking back to your “functional” apartment filled with pests and a houseless population – the only rent you could afford – you get catcalled again. But you stayed silent. “It’s just Toronto life,” you remind yourself. 

You walk on a sidewalk near another woman, thinking her presence would make you safe. Not long after, you hear that woman laughing like a witch in the movies. But this sidewalk still seems safer than the other with several creepy men. Suddenly, she pulls out a knife and chases you. 

You have no way to defend yourself – after all, the Canadian government illegalized pepper spray, valuing a perpetrator’s safety more than that of a victim (often a woman). Thankfully, you see an ambulance and beg them to unlock the door. You’re safe, but they didn’t care enough to take your statement or call the police. After all, that’s just “Toronto Life.” 

The next day, you dim your light, trading your all-pink look for sweatpants and a hoodie. Even carrying your water bottle as a pretend weapon didn’t help. You’re getting followed. 

“Here we go again,” you sigh. For a moment, time stands still as you swallow the pill that this is your new reality. The city didn’t just steal your flair; it silenced you as a woman.

But it’s just “Toronto Life.”

End note: I wrote this piece for my English Creative Writing class in the first semester of my third year of Journalism at Toronto Metropolitan University. This sudden short fiction story is inspired by true events but with some added fictional elements. Hope you enjoy the read! 🙂