Carrying the Fire Forward: A Journey Through My Life
We have asked Indigenous youth across the Yukon, NWT and Northern BC to use our RV Seeds as inspiration as RV Guest Blog Writers. Olivia is our first, using Seed #1: Healing Ourselves. as her blog theme. If you are interested in sharing your story, please apply here.
My name is Olivia Dobbs. I’m 24 and originally from Tetlit Zheh, also known as Fort McPherson in the Arctic. I now live in Whitehorse, Yukon. I’m passionate about my community and the people across the North. I hold strong family values and beliefs which I carry in everything I do. Mahsi Cho to myself, my family, friends, knowledge keepers, and mentors who’ve helped me along my journey.
Growing up away from my community, family, and culture was painful.
I spent years feeling like an outsider, trying to fit into worlds that weren’t made for me. To cope, I learned how to blend in—masking my hurt from my parents’ divorce.
But deep down, I always felt something was missing: a sense of belonging, of connection to who I really am.
I’m forever grateful to my grandparents for keeping that connection alive. Even though my dad wasn’t around, they made sure my brother and I stayed close to our family. Every spring and summer, we travelled to Alberta to visit our dad, aunt, uncle and cousins—I believe those were our treasured moments of laughter, adventure, and rediscovery.
My grandparents put their own dreams aside to raise us.
Their strength and love rooted me in values I still hold close: responsibility, resilience, and family.
Growing up in Whitehorse came with its challenges. Finding genuine friendships wasn’t easy in a small town where people talked more than they listened. I started drinking, getting into trouble, and numbing myself instead of facing the pain of bullying, past trauma, masking, and depression.
As the oldest sibling, I carried a lot—the expectations, the discipline, the unspoken pressure to keep it all together.
The start of my high school years in Alberta was a turning point.
When my aunt took me in, I thought I was starting fresh, but in chasing freedom, I lost closeness with my brother.
That regret still follows me sometimes, but it’s also taught me the importance of repairing what we can and forgiving what we can’t change. I love him deeply and hope he knows that.
Coming back to Whitehorse to graduate was another hard transition. I fell into old habits—drinking, partying, avoiding how much I was hurting. It took years to admit I needed to heal, especially after graduating during societal collapse—COVID-19.
Then my dad passed away in 2021. It was the hardest time of my life, my dad was my rock, the parent who was present throughout my life. Everything I’d been running from caught up with me. I cycled between sobriety and relapse, trying to find myself again.
But even through those dark times, part of me knew I wasn’t meant to stay broken.
In 2019, I attended Northern Youth Abroad through Northern Youth in Service. Although I didn’t get to bring that work to fruition, it was still an empowering program that gave me space to grow. I’m especially grateful to the childhood mentor who encouraged me to say yes to opportunities like that and pushed me to go, as the first Yukoner. Throughout my life, I’ve been blessed with people who saw potential in me before I fully saw it in myself, especially when I was a shy little girl unsure of what was ahead.
In February 2023, I chaperoned a Northern and Southern youth cohort through Northern Loco and Northern Youth Abroad on a bison hunt in Fort Providence. I was thrilled for the chance to build my confidence and experiences on the land. Between the beautiful, bitter cold, I even made my own fur hat!
I put my name forward to be a delegate with Gwich’in Council International. This opportunity helped me reconnect with purpose and pride. Traveling overseas, meeting other Indigenous peoples, I saw that our struggles and strengths are shared across oceans.
That experience lit a fire in me—to protect our cultures, our lands, and to empower youth to carry our stories.
I also put my name forward to join the NWT Climate Change Youth Council. It was another risk, and another way of honoring that responsibility to my people.
Healing hasn’t been easy, but it’s been real.
It’s involved grief, leaving behind jobs, relationships, and habits. It’s meant starting therapy again, getting sober, and believing in the possibility of peace and harmony within myself again.
Today, I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I’ll be sober for a year in May 2026. If you are struggling with alcohol, you can access free resources and support here.
Most recently, in February 2026 at the Arctic Summit Conference, I fulfilled a lifelong dream by modeling for Kasa Dena Designs. Nerve-racking yet inspiring, it was an honor to bring someone else’s art to life—and I’m so proud of myself for stepping into that space.
I’ve also rekindled love in my life—with a partner who challenges and uplifts me. His support has reminded me that even as we heal ourselves, we also make space for love to heal through us.
Every challenge, every risk I’ve taken, has been part of returning to myself—my culture, my values, my purpose, finding out who I am.
I want Indigenous youth to see and know that healing isn’t weakness, that reclaiming our identity and taking bold steps forward are acts of resistance. We are warriors.
We carry our ancestors in everything that we do. When we heal, we heal for them, for our families, and for the generations to come.
If you’d like to connect, you can email me or follow me on Instagram.
