Читать книгу I Am Nobody. Confronting the Sexually Abusive Coach Who Stole My Life онлайн

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ONE

JUST A BOY

I AM A CHILD of the Canadian prairies, born in Winnipeg in 1964 in the middle of a very cold winter while my dad, choosing his first love over the waiting room, circled the hospital in his car, listening to the radio for hockey scores from the Innsbruck Winter Olympics.

“Winnipeg” comes from the Cree word win-nipi which, roughly translated, means “muddy water,” an apt metaphor for a story about sexual abuse. And with a population of about 750,000, it’s more of a big small city than a small big one. When I was growing up, it was Canada’s fourth-largest city, but having gone through some very tough times it has now slipped to eighth. It is solidly working class, it can sometimes seem a little unsophisticated to outsiders, and its charms can remain somewhat hidden. But if you look just a little deeper, you will quickly see that it is also a magical place with so much to offer, a place of character, one you would never leave if you could just take the time to get to know it a bit better.