The Beginning

Thank you for joining my Substack. This is an unfiltered space where I practice my writing. I’m not here to be uplifting or inspiring—life already demands that of me.

Thank you for joining my Substack. This is an unfiltered space where I practice my writing. I’m not here to be uplifting or inspiring—life already demands that of me. In my day-to-day, I try to be strong, positive, and present. But this is something different.

I’m a mother to two girls, aged five and two and a half. My youngest was born with a rare and complex medical condition, and we’ve spent a significant part of her life in hospital. These years have been brutal, beautiful, confusing, and life-defining.

This space is where I can finally say the hard things out loud. It’s where I let myself go into the grief, fear, and love that shape my days. I explore emotional contradictions and the depths of life, like the ones I’m living through now.

In the year or two after my daughter’s birth, I dealt with PTSD and returned to therapy, going back over layers of childhood trauma I’ve carried for decades. When I was two and a half—just my daughter’s age now—my father, a psychiatrist, died by suicide. He was 35. My mother was left to raise three young daughters alone. Our childhood held love, but also silence. Secrecy. Grief. A heavy sadness.

In 1988 when my father died, mental health and suicide were rarely talked about. Things are somewhat better now, but these are not casual topics.

Despite everything, I consider myself a joyful, loving, happy person. I have a wonderful husband, supportive family, incredible friends, a full-time corporate career, and I live in the city I was born—Sydney, Australia. I find peace in the ocean, in music, dancing, cooking, human connection and in words. I am working on my fist novel, which explores the same topics I explore here.

This is me—naked, soul laid bare. Indulging my writing. Saying the things I don’t know how to say out loud. Laughing about death. Writing through grief, motherhood, trauma, and love. If you want to cry and laugh, read on. But a warning, this is a slightly dark space.