When Your Past Follows You: Losing My HVAC Co-Op and Refusing to Quit

When Your Past Follows You: Losing My HVAC Co-Op and Refusing to Quit
Sometimes the hardest part of starting over… is realizing your past didn’t stay behind you.

Starting over isn’t supposed to be easy—but I didn’t expect to lose my HVAC co-op without explanation. What started as progress quickly turned into setback, doubt, and the uncomfortable reality that sometimes your past follows you. This is what it looks like to keep moving forward anyway.

So the last couple of weeks have been a lot.

I started an HVAC program here in Ottawa. One week in class, one week in co-op, and that rotation continues. It’s fast-paced. A lot of information all at once. But I was keeping up. Managing.

At the end of the first week, I got placed with a company not too far from me. It felt like things were starting to line up.

Then Monday happened.

I showed up early. 7:50 am. Tools in hand. Ready to go.

First thing I’m told is that I’m late.

Apparently, I was supposed to be there for 7:30.

No one told me that.

I had emailed. Got nothing back. I was told co-op was 8:00 to 4:00 unless told otherwise. So that’s what I went with.

Punctuality matters to me. A lot. So yeah, that didn’t sit right—but I let it go. Miscommunication happens. I adjusted. It wouldn’t happen again.

About an hour later, I get a message from the director at the school. Same thing. I’m being called out for being late.

I explained exactly what happened.

No apology. No ownership. Just—“now you know.”

That stuck with me more than I expected.

The rest of the week, though? It was actually good.

I worked with a few different technicians. Learned a lot. Started getting comfortable. Even started enjoying the work. It wasn’t familiar, but it felt… right.

Like maybe I was finally stepping into something solid.

Then there was a comment that caught my attention.

One of the techs mentioned that one of the owners had connections with Ottawa police. Kind of joked that he does his own background checks on employees.

He laughed it off.

I didn’t.

Because here’s the thing—I don’t have a criminal record in Canada. My CPIC is clean.

But my past isn’t.

And I’ve lived long enough to know that sometimes it doesn’t matter what’s official… people find things. Or think they do.

I didn’t say anything. I just filed it away.

Thursday was a short day. I got home early.

Then I got an email from the school.

Don’t go to co-op tomorrow. Come in.

No explanation.

I reached out to the company to let them know I wouldn’t be there Friday.

No response.

Friday morning, I went into the school.

Sat down with the director.

And that’s when I got it.

The company said I wasn’t to return.

No real explanation.

Just like that, it was over.

And then came the part that really hit—

I was told that since I had “blown my co-op,” I would now have to find one on my own.

No real support. No real direction.

Just… deal with it.

I wasn’t shocked. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting a little more help than that.

So now I’m sitting there, trying to process how I went from doing well… to being done… without even knowing why.

I reached out to a couple of people in my corner. A leader from Whitestone. The chairman of the ministry I’m living with.

They told me not to worry.

But let’s be real—that’s easier said than done.

Because this isn’t small.

If I don’t complete this program, I don’t just walk away disappointed. I walk away in debt. With nothing to show for it.

Worse than where I started.

And that’s a heavy place to sit in.

Monday, I’m back in class.

The question comes up—did you find a new co-op yet?

No.

Not yet.

Still working on it.

But if I’m being honest, it’s more than that.

I don’t even fully know how I feel right now.

There’s frustration. Confusion.

But underneath that… there’s something heavier.

It’s that familiar voice that shows up when things fall apart.

The one that says maybe it wasn’t a misunderstanding.

Maybe it’s you.

Maybe you’re the problem.

Maybe no matter what you do… it’s never going to be enough.

That’s where my head went.

Fast.

I met with the director of the ministry I live with later that day. We sat down for about an hour. Talked through everything. He started helping me look for options. Real options.

And then we prayed.

And I’ll be honest—that mattered.

Because left to my own thoughts, I spiral.

I go back to places I’ve fought hard to get out of.

But I’ve also seen something different over the last while.

I’ve seen what happens when I don’t isolate.

When I actually let people in.

When I stop trying to carry everything on my own.

There’s a verse that’s been sitting with me through all of this:

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

I don’t feel like I’m reaping anything right now.

If anything, it feels like I took a step forward… and got shoved back.

Hard.

But I also know this—

I showed up.

I worked.

I tried.

And somehow, that still wasn’t enough.

That messes with you.

Makes you question your worth. Your future. Whether you’re ever actually going to outrun your past… no matter how hard you try.

I don’t know the full truth about why I lost that placement.

Maybe it was miscommunication.

Maybe it was something else.

I’ve got my suspicions.

But no answers.

What I do know is this—

I’m still here.

And I don’t get to quit.

Not now. Not with everything riding on this.

So even though it feels like I’m standing here alone right now…

I’m not done.

I’ll make the calls.

I’ll knock on doors.

I’ll find another placement.

Because as much as it feels like I’m not good enough—

I don’t have the option of staying down.

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