After three hours of waiting, heart pounding, they sent in a male detective who peppered her with invasive questions. It was the first of many ways the justice system would fail her, but not the last.

“I just wanted to run out of the room,” says Comrie, her voice steady as she describes that day. “It was very traumatizing, and the police had promised to let me know when he was arrested, and to keep in contact with me, which they did not do. I had to reach out and call them myself.”

Trapped in an escalating nightmare with her 24-year-old abusive partner, someone who had once played hide-and-seek with her at his grandfather's house when she was just six years old, had morphed into a monster. The transformation from childhood friend to tormentor happened so gradually she barely noticed it starting. First came the degrading names. Then the physical violence. Finally, the sexual abuse that would haunt her for years.

"If I stay in the relationship, there's a high chance that he could actually end my life," Comrie recalls thinking in the moment her survival instinct finally overcame her fear.

But escaping her abuser was only the beginning. What followed was a maze of dismissive victim services workers, endless court dates, and a Crown Attorney who tried to shame her into trial by invoking the feminists who had fought for years for marital rape laws, all while dealing with family members who cut her off, refusing to believe her story.

"I tried asking questions about the trial process, but they kept putting me off with vague answers. I was constantly waiting, wanting more information.”

Discovering restorative justice

Comrie wanted something different than what the system offered: not punishment, but transformation. Not a prison cell, but a path to change.

“I felt sad, because I missed him,” she says. “But I was also anxious and scared about being in the same room as him. I didn't want him to go to jail; I wanted him to get help. Friends who've been through the system told me jail only traumatized them and didn't help at all. I felt hopeless and trapped, wondering if there was any way out."

Through her counselors at Wilfrid Laurier University, Comrie discovered Revive, a Restorative Justice program at Community Justice Initiatives (CJI). It was an alternative approach that focused on healing rather than punishment. And when the Crown Attorney continued to berate Comrie for choosing this path, her response was unflinching.

“Please do not assign your idea of justice to my sexual harm. This harm was done to me, and restorative justice is what I want.”

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Breaking cycles of harm

Meanwhile, in a modest office in Kitchener, Ontario, CJI has been quietly transforming lives for over five decades.

Revive, its community-based Restorative Justice program which began in 1982, supports both survivors and those who’ve caused harm through carefully facilitated dialogues, support groups, and educational programs.

Unlike the conventional justice system's focus on punishment, Revive emphasizes healing and rehabilitation. Its thorough and carefully structured 12-week program draws participants from across North America and as far as Australia. 

“Before any dialogue occurs, extensive preparation ensures both parties are ready,” explains Kate Crozier, CJI's Executive Director since August 2024. For survivors, this includes detailed “what if” scenario planning to address safety concerns and potential triggers. And for those who have caused harm, the focus is on developing genuine accountability and understanding of their actions' impact.

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At Revive's core is what Kye Fox, former Revive Service Coordinator calls the “Good Lives Model,” a strengths-based rehabilitation framework that helps participants build healthy coping mechanisms and support systems. The approach includes everything from exercise and spiritual outlets to accountability partners and peer support groups. “Recovery isn't about stopping a behaviour,” Fox explains. “It's about creating a life that's so good that acting out is no longer the priority.”

For Julian McCants-Turner, former Revive Coordinator and current Equity Casework and Support Coordinator at Wilfrid Laurier University, true accountability can’t be externally imposed. “Someone can literally go through the whole process, be sentenced, convicted, go to prison and maintain denial the entire way, but meaningful change must come from within, supported by relationship and community.”

Challenges and opportunities

While the program's success is largely measured in transformations, reduced recidivism, improved victim satisfaction, and stronger community bonds, more work needs to be done. The program receives no government funding for much of its work with those who have caused harm, and it relies heavily on community support and volunteers to continue its mission.

Perhaps most troublingly, Section 717 of the Criminal Code prohibits Crown Attorneys from referring cases to Restorative Justice programs, even when survivors explicitly request this option. This legal barrier persists despite evidence that traditional legal processes can sometimes cause additional trauma to survivors.

For Black communities in particular, restorative justice offers a pathway toward addressing harm that doesn't rely on systems that have historically perpetuated injustice. And through restorative justice, Comrie found a path to healing on her own terms.

“Finally, I had people who were in my corner, fighting for me and fighting with me,” she says. “After years of feeling so alone and scared and hopeless, there were finally people who listened to me and my needs and were willing to go the extra mile to help.”

While Comrie's journey illuminates the urgent need for more nuanced, culturally responsive approaches to addressing harm, especially for Black women and other marginalized survivors, her story challenges us to reimagine justice not as punishment, but as a process of healing, empowerment, and reclaiming one's narrative.

Comrie's story forces us to confront uncomfortable questions: What if justice could look different? What if survivors had more choices in their own healing? And what if the path to ending sexual violence doesn't run through a courtroom at all?

“When we invest in restorative justice, we're investing in the future of our communities,” says Crozier. “We're saying that we believe in people's capacity to change and grow.”

For those interested in supporting this vital work, CJI welcomes donations through their website and offers volunteer training programs each May and June.