As a Pakistani Canadian woman, Haya Waseem found where she belonged by making her first feature film

Cutaways is a personal essay series by Canadian filmmakers, asking them to tell the story of how their film was made. This TIFF edition by Haya Waseem focuses on her film Quickening, which explores the life of a young woman of colour navigating love, heartbreak, and family turmoil.

It's hard to know where to begin writing about the experience of making Quickening. Writing this as we gear up for our world premiere at TIFF almost exactly a year after embarking on the production, I feel like I haven't fully come to realize what this journey has meant and where it is headed. But that remains to be seen. What's clear to me, and has been from the start, is the power of collaboration and the gift of storytelling in terms of its impact on the soul.

Quickening is a story about a young Pakistani Canadian woman who is split between two worlds. She doesn't quite belong with her Pakistani community and she doesn't quite feel a part of her Canadian peer group either. Growing up, having just moved to Canada from Switzerland at the age of 16, I felt very much the same way. I didn't know where I belonged.

I was born in Pakistan. I moved to Switzerland when I was 10; this was the first time I "redefined" who I was. At that age, I saw an opportunity in a change of environment as a chance to push myself without being held by who I was in the past. For example, the first time I was introduced to my new class, I went up to the board and wrote down my name in big letters for everyone to see. My mother still recalls that moment as a surprise to her because I was quite shy at school in Pakistan. This was true, and was precisely the kind of thing I did not want to carry with me anymore.

This freedom to change or develop as one grows up isn't unique. Every individual shifts and matures based on their experiences. What I was able to explore through the character of Sheila was this familiar coming-of-age narrative through the lens of culture and identity.

It is an internal conflict. The tragedy, in my view, is that the feeling of not belonging is largely self-imposed. It seems like the outside world is against you, but really it's our internal world, our internal selves, that are struggling. What is that struggle about, and where does it come from? These were the questions at the core of what I wanted to explore.

I knew words would not get me there. Logic would not get me there. The feelings are visceral; they have no face or linearity. That's where the tools of cinema and storytelling are so effective. Things that can't be captured in words can be experienced through a combination of sound and imagery. Sheila is bottling up a lot of these strong emotions inside her body. They brew in her belly and collect there over time. As a woman, I felt that resonate with me on a deep level. We can carry life inside of us — we have the capacity. At the same time, there are a lot of external pressures to protect and chastise women for that reason. These layers of pressure, both culturally and physically, were significant themes in Quickening.

We have to wriggle our ways around and out of particular circumstances and that can feel alienating. But at that breaking point, when you drop everything you were holding onto and are able to receive an outpouring of love and support from those around you, that understanding lets you know that you are loved. That allowance for you to express yourself in any messy or perceivably embarrassing way affirms that you are cared for, and to me, this is the return home for our character. Should this behaviour be encouraged, discouraged, allowed or not, I can't say. But does it expand your capacity as you face the next chapter in your life? I think so.

In many ways, the answers I was searching for in this film remain unanswered. Our identities and values are too nebulous, especially at a young age when we're discovering the world and ourselves simultaneously. It's a part of life.

But what I did learn through bringing Sheila's journey to life was that she's not alone. I am not alone. She has support and love and the gift of community all around her — and so do I, not only in my family and loved ones, but in all the creative individuals who believed in this story enough to lend us their time and skills to bring this film to life. Through this experience, we've shared stories and invited others to share theirs, and to me, that's been the most important thing — not finding answers, but finding community. Whether you have strong roots, evolving values, a deep understanding or complete overwhelming anxiety about where you fit in and who you are... you'll get there. You're not alone.

Quickening plays to September 16 at the Toronto International Film Festival.