Melanie’s words sum up the feelings of many

In Canada, trying to make sense of a world that feels like it’s unraveling

“Dear Friends, Family, and Community,

I’m writing this with a heart so heavy it feels like it might collapse under the weight of my grief. The Canadian federal election has left me in a state of mourning, shock, and deep distress. I’m struggling to find words that capture the depth of my worry, not just for myself but for my 10-year-old child, whose future feels more uncertain than ever.

As some of you know, I’ve been hanging on by a thread for just over a year now, clinging to hope, but right now, that hope is slipping through my fingers, and the familiar grip of gut clenching hopelessness is tightening around me. I need to share this with you – not to burden you, but to explain why I need to step back for a few days, to decompress, to try to make sense of a world that feels like it’s unraveling.

The election results have shaken me to my core. I was rooting for change, for a shift that might ease the struggles so many of us are facing. But instead, the Liberals, led by Mark Carney, have secured another term, and Pierre Poilievre, the Conservative leader, not only lost his bid to become prime minister but also his long-held Carleton riding to Liberal Bruce Fanjoy.

This loss in Carleton, a Conservative stronghold for over 20 years, feels like a gut punch. It’s not just the outcome – it’s the way it unfolded, with anomalies and ethical concerns that make it hard to trust the process. One of the most troubling aspects was the ballot in Carleton, which tied a record with 91 candidates, orchestrated by the Longest Ballot advocacy group. They targeted Poilievre’s riding to protest for electoral reform, flooding the ballot with names and delaying the vote count until nearly 5 a.m.

This tactic turned what should have been a straightforward democratic process into a chaotic spectacle, leaving many of us questioning whether our voices were truly heard. How can a ballot with 91 names, most of whom received fewer than 100 votes, feel like a fair reflection of the people’s will? Then there are the reports of foreign interference, particularly from Beijing, that cast a dark shadow over the election.

The Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) has warned that China views Canada as a “high-priority target” for interference, with documented attempts to influence the 2019 and 2021 elections to favor Liberal outcomes and target Conservative candidates critical of Beijing. In this election, the Security and Intelligence Threats to Elections (SITE) Task Force reported Beijing-linked social media campaigns on platforms like WeChat, spreading both positive and negative narratives about Mark Carney to sway Chinese-Canadian voters.

These efforts, while not deemed enough to overturn the election’s integrity, raise chilling questions about how foreign powers might be shaping our democracy. Knowing that China has a history of targeting candidates who challenge their interests – like Conservative MP Michael Chong in 2021 – makes me fear for the safety and freedom of those who dare to speak out. Ethical lapses have only deepened my unease.

One incident that stands out is the case of Liberal candidate Paul Chiang in Markham-Unionville, who suggested that people could turn in Conservative candidate Joe Tay to the Chinese consulate for a bounty. The RCMP is investigating whether these comments broke the law, and while Carney called it a “lapse in judgment,” the fact that such a statement was made during an election campaign is horrifying. It’s not just about one candidate—it’s the message it sends to diaspora communities already living in fear of transnational repression. NDP Leader Jagmeet Singh rightly pointed out how disturbing this is for Canadians who fled oppressive regimes. How can we feel secure in our democratic process when such intimidation is brushed off so lightly?

The media, too, has felt like a source of betrayal. I witnessed reports of misinformation and exaggerated claims plaguing the campaign. We all saw CBC’s Election Fact Check Unit in clips throughout the campaign purportedly calling out misleading statements from all major party leaders. Yet, somehow, the broader CBC narrative often seemed to tilt left, amplifying certain voices while dismissing others. It’s hard to shake the feeling that the story being told wasn’t always the full truth, leaving me to question what’s real and what’s been shaped to fit an agenda.

These are the facts that have broken my heart, each one a crack in the foundation of the democracy I once thought I could trust. I’m not just mourning an election outcome – I’m grieving the erosion of something sacred, the sense that my vote, my voice, matters. The trauma of realizing that my child’s future might be shaped by forces beyond our control—by foreign meddling, by chaotic ballots, by ethical failures – is crushing me.

I’ve always tried to be strong, to “people” through the pain, but right now, the demands of carrying on as if everything is fine are too much to bear. I need time to process this, to sit with my grief and try to find a way back to hope. I’m not giving up, but I’m admitting that I’m struggling, that the weight of this moment is more than I can carry alone. Please understand if I’m distant, if I need space to heal. I’m not shutting you out – I’m just trying to find a way to breathe again. If you’re feeling this too, know that you’re not alone. Maybe together, in time, we can find a way to rebuild what’s been broken.

With a heavy heart, Melanie“

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This essay was originally published to X.