Canada should have been a model for handling a pandemic. Instead, we became a cautionary tale of what happens when fear overrides reason.
The world shut down, and so did we. The government imposed measures that, at the time, seemed necessary to protect us from an unseen enemy. But as time passed, the lines between caution and control blurred. What began as temporary restrictions slowly evolved into a form of medical tyranny that seeped into every part of our lives.
And now, years later, we’re left to face the consequences.
It’s hard to ignore the eerie silence that hangs over the country. We never fully recovered. We’re still grappling with the aftershocks of a response that ripped apart the very fabric of what made Canada feel like home.
Even now, there are people—plenty of them—who still walk the streets outdoors, masked up, as if the danger is still looming, ready to strike at any moment. It’s like we’re trapped in a collective nightmare, too afraid to wake up.
The worst part? We’ve adapted to it. We’ve normalized fear, normalized isolation. We’ve become comfortable in our unease.
The public health measures may have eased, but the psychological scars? They’re deep. We’ve lost the ability to fully reconnect, to fully trust. And the shadow of those dark, uncertain days still lingers, shaping our decisions and our lives.
Maybe the virus wasn’t the only thing that we needed to fear after all.
