I’m a Ngarrindjeri woman. I was abused by my uncle till I was 10, whenever my parents went away. My mum had a lot of health issues and my dad was using drugs. He hid it well, but as a kid, you notice things. He got clean when we moved to Queensland when I was 12, but the damage was already done.
I struggled a lot at school. I got straight As, but I didn’t have many friends. I used to talk to the guidance officer about a lot of things that had happened. I had attempted to take my own life before, all that stuff. So I was already known to the system. But I didn’t even know about it.
One day I got pulled into my guidance officer’s room at school, and there were two government workers there with a clipboard. Even though my parents were in a good place then, they gave me two choices: they could find me somewhere else to stay, or I could go home but if I did, there was a chance my younger siblings and I would get split up, and we wouldn’t have a choice.
They were just babies then, but so was I. Looking back, I know it should have gone down differently, but I didn’t know any better. All I knew was I had to protect my family. I thought, “well I’m 14, I can look after myself, I’ve done it my whole life.” So I didn’t listen to them. I didn’t trust them or the system. But I trusted myself.
That’s when I became homeless.
I hopped around – couch surfing from house to house – until I had nowhere left. I was staying on my own, in all these random places. A lot of them were unsafe, like cheap motels costing $100 a week that were full of drugs and violence. This went on for about two years. But I still went to school every day. Eventually, my guidance officer caught on that something was off and referred me to my first youth house. Later, when things with my boyfriend fell apart, I connected with Brisbane Youth Service (BYS).
Moving into Phoenix House at 16 was a turning point. It gave me stability and friendships. After that, I was in another youth house, then in a bad, violent relationship that pushed me to Tasmania before I came back. That’s when I got pregnant, and eight months along, I graduated high school.
After my daughter was born, her dad and I tried, but we didn’t love each other. His mental health struggles made it unsafe, so I fought to be placed in a mother and baby mental health unit on the Gold Coast. That’s where I was diagnosed with Complex PTSD. I struggled to regulate my emotions, but I worked hard to manage them better.
Later, I had my second child with someone else, but it turned toxic fast. I wasn’t even allowed to do simple things alone. That’s when BYS came back into my life. Through their Young Women and Young Families programs, I connected with
other mums, learnt about healthy relationships, and made friendships I still have. They just get it– how it’s hard to make friends with people who don’t understand what you’ve been through and what’s going through your head.
