I grew up in a relatively ordinary family environment: one where microaggressions are common and normalized. During my early childhood, I would dream night after night of being a princess trapped in a tower, controlled by an oppressive man that wanted to keep me for himself. Regardless of my yells and attempts at persuasion and supplication, he would never agree to free me; thus, I remained a prisoner of this dream. In my young brain, this story was becoming almost comforting and romantic.

More recently, I experienced a romantic relationship steeped in violence. I heard the confidences of several loved ones navigating toxic and brutal relationship dynamics. My best friend was a victim of physical and verbal violence inflicted by his parents throughout his childhood. Talking about it, even between us, is hard. It’s taboo. 

Working as a video journalist at CBC-Radio-Canada, I spent several months on a documentary video collecting testimonies of men having overcome their violent tendencies. Coming into close contact with those we publicly call “aggressors” allowed me to quickly understand that these people had themselves suffered acts of violence before committing them in turn.

Violence is a perpetual cycle. Via psychologist appointments and non-violent communication training, I started to perceive the mechanics hidden behind the vicious patterns of domination. I decided that I wouldn't be a vessel for this violence. I decided I wanted to break this infinite spiral.

With the film Like You, I sought to deconstruct the image of the perfect victim, by having each character carry the role of both victim and aggressor. I mobilized my childhood fantasy of the prisoner-princess to highlight the toxic workings that perpetuate a major societal issue: domestic violence and its impact on children.