Key Moments That Shaped Me

Content note

This post shares lived experiences related to housing instability, trauma, mental health distress, and recovery. It is written from personal experience and focuses on reflection and growth. Please read with care and take breaks if needed. Support is available. In Australia, Lifeline is available on 13 11 14.

The first lesson

Nothing lasts forever

One of the earliest things I learned was that stability could disappear without warning. Houses changed. Schools changed. Adults changed. I learned not to settle too deeply into anything, because experience taught me that attachments were temporary. Even as a child, I understood that being adaptable mattered more than being comfortable.

That lesson followed me for years.

The moment safety was taken away

There was a point where the idea of home completely lost its meaning. What was supposed to be stability turned out to be deeply unsafe, and once that truth came out, everything unravelled. I learned that having a roof did not mean being protected, and that sometimes leaving was the only way to survive.

Running away was not rebellion. It was self-preservation.

The short experience of normal

Living with my grandparents gave me a glimpse of what life could be like with routine and care. Meals happened regularly. I slept without fear. I went to school knowing where I would return afterward. It did not last long, but it showed me that something better was possible, even if I did not know how to reach it yet.

That small window stayed with me.

Being told there was nowhere for me

As a teenager, I was cut loose without a plan. One message changed everything, and suddenly I had no place to go. I learned very quickly how fragile housing can be, especially when you are young and dependent on others’ decisions.

From that point on, I was always prepared to leave at short notice.

Losing everything, more than once

There were several moments where I lost everything I owned. Sometimes it was because I had to leave quickly. Sometimes it was because things were taken. Sometimes it was because disaster struck and there was nothing left to return to.

Each time, I became lighter and heavier at the same time. Fewer possessions, more fear. Eventually, I stopped collecting things altogether.

The place that treated me like a person

Not all systems failed me. One school changed the direction of my life by doing something very simple. They treated me like a human being. No uniforms. Food provided. Support without judgement. They saw potential instead of problems.

That experience reminded me that environments matter, and that the right support can shift everything.

When kindness arrived unexpectedly

There were moments where strangers helped me survive. Food offered without conditions. A lift when I needed it. Someone who listened instead of interrogated. Those moments mattered more than they will ever know.

They kept me going when nothing else did.

When survival stopped working

Eventually, surviving was no longer enough. My body and mind reached a point where constant crisis was unsustainable. Hospital admissions became frequent. Stability felt impossible. I realised that coping strategies that once kept me alive were now holding me back.

That realisation was frightening, but necessary.

The slow build of support

There was no single rescue moment. Stability came slowly, through layers of support. Housing services. Health workers. Support coordinators. People who did not give up when progress was slow.

For the first time, multiple systems worked together instead of against me. That changed everything.

Understanding myself properly

Receiving diagnoses that actually fit was a turning point. ADHD and autism explained patterns that had been misunderstood for years. My nervous system made sense. My behaviours made sense. My exhaustion made sense.

I stopped seeing myself as broken and started seeing myself as someone who had adapted to survive.

Learning to stay

Even with housing, I did not trust it. I lived out of bags. I kept emergency supplies. I avoided settling in fully. My body was prepared for loss long before my mind caught up.

Learning to stay took longer than learning to survive.

The shift from surviving to contributing

Once housing and income stabilised, I could focus on education and purpose. I completed formal study and began using my lived experience to support others. For the first time, my past was not just something that happened to me, it became something I could use to help others navigate similar paths.

That shift gave meaning to everything I had lived through.

Where I stand now

My life is not defined by a single turning point, but by many small ones. Each decision, each support, each moment of safety built on the last.

I still carry survival instincts. I still prepare for uncertainty. But now those instincts exist alongside plans, connection, and a sense of belonging.

These key moments did not break me. They shaped me. And they continue to guide how I move through the world, with care, awareness, and a deep understanding of how much support truly matters.