By Merida Paz — The Purple Witch
I am the small letters. The one in a lifetime event. The one who beats the odds.
But I am also the one with the silliest stories. And the one who has been close to dying countless times—sometimes in ways so absurd they sound like a bad joke.
This one happened almost five years ago. Here in Toronto. I was still with him—my abuser.
The Scene
We were waiting for our taco order to be ready. So we walked to the convenience store at the corner. I grabbed a couple of big gummies shaped like Coca-Cola bottles. The big ones. The kind you bite into and instantly feel like a child again.
We stepped out onto the sidewalk. I was unwrapping the first gummy, ready to pop it into my mouth.
At that exact moment, a tall blonde woman stepped out of a cab and nearly fell. It was dramatic. It was funny. And I am me—so I made a comment.
I laughed.
And the gummy went straight down my throat.
The Thought
Not down the right pipe. Down the wrong one. Completely stuck. No air. No sound. Just panic.
My ex thought I was laughing. He kept walking.
I kept walking too—because what else do you do when you are actively choking to death on a gummy? I thought: This is it. I am going to die on a sidewalk in Toronto. And they are going to tell my kids their momma choked on a gummy.
That thought—that ridiculous, humiliating thought—was the last thing I remember before I passed out.
The Surviving
I hit the ground. And somehow, in the fall, the gummy dislodged. I breathed.
Nobody saved me. Nobody gave me the Heimlich. Nobody even noticed.
But I was breathing. I was alive. I was lying on the sidewalk with a half-eaten gummy somewhere near me, gasping like a fish, while my ex finally turned around and asked what was wrong.
Why I Love This Story
Because it is so absurd. So perfectly me.
I have survived abuse. I have survived homelessness. I have survived the loss of my son, my mother, my best friends. I have survived falls and surgeries and the monster in the mirror.
And I almost died because of a gummy.
That is the thing about survival. It is not always dramatic. Sometimes it is ridiculous. Sometimes it is humiliating. Sometimes it is a gummy on a sidewalk in Toronto.
But I survived.
And I am still here. Still laughing. Still building. Still telling the silliest stories.
A Note to Anyone Who Has Survived Something Stupid
If you have a story like this—something that almost took you out in the most ridiculous way possible—I want to hear it. Because survival is not always heroic. Sometimes it is just absurd.
And that is okay.
You are still here. You are still breathing. You are still the one in a lifetime event.
Even if it took a gummy to remind you.
With laughter and breath,
Merida Paz
The Purple Witch, under The Purple Cape