Michelle MacPherson knew it wasn’t safe to stay.
She had been living in a difficult situation with five other people, and she needed to leave for her safety and mental health. With nowhere else to go, she arrived at the Karis Centre, a women’s-only emergency shelter on the edge of downtown Edmonton.
“From the moment I walked in, I knew what I wanted to do,” she says. “I went straight to housing and asked how to start the process.”
In many ways, Michelle’s experience reflects a broader shift.
Five years ago, one in four people accessing shelter at Hope Mission were women. Today, it’s one in three. Daily shelter occupancy for women has doubled in just three years—from 122 in 2022 to 240 in 2025.
For Minyoung Choi, director of recovery and women’s programs at Hope Mission, the change is not as sudden as it might seem.
“For a long time, women’s homelessness was less visible,” Minyoung says. “Women often stay in precarious situations—couch surfing, staying in unsafe relationships, or relying on family and friends to avoid the streets.”
What’s changing now is not the existence of need, but its visibility.
“What we’re seeing isn’t necessarily a brand-new problem,” she says. “It’s a hidden population finally reaching a breaking point. The resources they used to rely on have run thin due to the economy.”
Rising costs and limited housing options are playing a significant role—especially for women in low-wage work or single-parent households.
“The surge we’re seeing is directly tied to the fact that there are almost no affordable next steps for women,” Minyoung says.
“If you can’t afford even a small apartment, how can you leave an abusive partner?”
More than a quarter of women arriving at Hope Mission in 2025 reported fleeing abuse. By the time many women reach shelter, they are often navigating far more than housing instability.
“Many people don’t realize how much women are juggling—staying safe, coping with past trauma, and meeting basic needs,” says Meron Kasahun, manager of women’s programs and aftercare services. “They often arrive from unsafe situations without support, yet they show incredible courage.”
As the need has grown more visible, Hope Mission’s response has evolved alongside it. The Karis Centre, which opened in February 2024, functions as a 115-bed shelter and full support centre, providing meals, showers, laundry, clothing, health services, housing support, and spiritual care.
- LISTEN: Rising Demand for Women’s Shelter (Hope Stories podcast on Apple and Spotify)
“Karis means grace in Greek,” Minyoung says. “We want every woman who walks through our doors to feel that acceptance.”
That full-service approach is intentional. When a woman arrives, she is not only given a bed—she is immediately connected to support.
“We have a housing team working right in the building,” Minyoung says. “As soon as someone registers, we approach them and ask about their needs.”
From there, staff begin building a plan—whether that includes housing, employment, recovery, or reconnection with family.
“One thing we’ve developed at Karis is a 30-day shelter exit planning approach,” Meron says. “We don’t expect women to leave within 30 days, but within that time, we want to understand how we can support them.”
That early, integrated approach is helping more women move forward. In 2025, Hope Mission helped 838 people move into permanent housing—41 per cent of them were women, up from 37 per cent the year before.
“Even with more women needing help, we’re supporting more of them into permanent housing than before,” Meron says.
Still, demand continues to grow, with the number of women needing support outpacing available space. Seasonal changes can make the situation more difficult. When some winter shelters close, fewer options remain, leaving more women without safe places to go.
“Without enough space and support, it becomes much harder to provide the kind of care we want—helping women move from the street into recovery and housing stability,” Meron says.
For Michelle, the support she found during her two-month stay at the Karis Centre prepared her for living on her own. Staff helped ensure she had access to the medication she needed, and she began to build a routine.
“I’ve never felt this calm before. And I want to keep it that way.”
Now that she’s found stability again, Michelle looks forward to finishing school and finding work.
“It feels good to have a place where I can be comfortable,” she says. “This is my safe zone, my space where I feel secure. That’s what matters most.”