For the past seven years, I have been discussing and encouraging critical discourse around the residual impacts of abuse and trauma on the survivor body and its connection to autoimmune disease. Engaging in a global study through one-on-one work with fellow victims, a solo study of global intergenerational abuse, and my own intimate healing. To this day, my ethos remains rooted in the agonising yet powerfully freeing act of autonomous self-belief.


I believe my own trauma is a symptom of white supremacy. Thus, the roots of white-elitism are my focus. My slowly-building thesis seeks to answer the question: "Who did the body belong to throughout history and how do the residual impacts of embodied trauma coincide with the reclamation of individual and cultural autonomy?"

The first people to know trauma, and to carry the residual impacts of it within their bodies, are the colonised. I can never be their voice, nor do I want to pretend my research could ever be more valuable than their lived truth. The academic and judicial system's "objectivity" cards, the erasure of oral histories, and the blatant dismissal of lived experience in order to cover up white violence are abhorrent. Academia, like the world, is rampant with elitism, classism, and racism.

I commit to continually face my own subvert and overt prejudices, be accountable towards my many privileges and remain open to correction by those I hurt or dismiss when I inevitably fail. My work is not and could never be a replacement for the wisdom and expertise of those who carry the stories of centuries of pain in their bodies. As aforementioned, my story is a symptom of what they’ve known across time.

Alas, it is my hope and goal to exhume my ancestor's cruelty to the root of it by using both my own lived experience and my research of white-history in order to advocate for decolonisation. To ultimately, in whatever way I can whilst I live and breathe, unpack why abuse manifested in the first place.


Most, if not all, of what I create is created for free, but none of it comes without cost on my end. I am a full-time student, paying for school and life with student loans, living with a debilitating nerve disorder. Every cent of support I receive provides me with the resources to further my studies and continue committing to the sustainability of my research. Including but not limited to the emotional labour of holding space for and aiding survivors whenever I can.
Any and all extensions of support, both free and monetary, helps.

Here are all the ways to do that.


"The moment I saw Skyler from across the room, my heart whispered..."There is a survivor." Not only a survivor...but thriver. 

As Skyler Mechelle opened her soul to us and shared a piece of her writing..the raw, real emotion I felt could not be denied. This woman was a force to reckoned with. This woman was going to change how we spoke about and perceived trauma and abuse and grief and loss and sexuality and fluidity and love and pain. 

This woman needed to be heard and seen and cherished and demanded to be. And I was able to take her all in...every word...and truly be planted into her life at the time of her abuse. And then brought back to life as she brought herself to healing. 

Skyler is a miracle. 

Her story is just that."

-Survivor, Master's Programme Student