About Me

When something becomes a life trigger - when an event happens to us - it is easy to think, “But it’s such a small thing!” The truth is, small things can sometimes have big impact, and telling ourselves to ‘get over it’ doesn’t always work.

I want to share parts of my life story with you, so that you can understand how small things can affect how you see your world. Especially when you are a child, and everything you experience is a ‘big’ thing.

I was 4 years old about to undergo tonsillectomy surgery, feeling utterly terrified and traumatised after learning my security of wearing undergarments were not permitted in the operating theatre. Mum pleaded with the nurses trying to work out a way that it would be possible that I could at the very least wear minimally my knickers as parting with my singlet was horrific enough. If mum could locate 100% cotton undies then it would be permitted. No doubt as time was pressing she must’ve rampaged in and out of stores like in search of a precious jewel.

And though this is my memory of the situation, regardless of it being precise or accurate, it was traumatic for me and impacted my life.

I was 7 when my Gran passed away, and this was my first experience of grief. I remember witnessing my mum struggling with the loss and her withdrawal from my father, older brother, younger sister and myself. She still to this day has great difficulty expressing her emotions.

I was not allowed to attend the funeral; mum had a belief that this was no place for children. I cannot remember exactly where I was on this day, but I do remember going to the wake later on: our house seeing the huge wreaths of flowers and lots of people I either did not know or wasn’t accustom to seeing very often.

From this experience - and the death of my Pop three years later - I started to notice that I would ‘pull back’ whenever there was a highly emotional or stressful situation.

I realised that I tend to disassociate at times that are emotionally challenging. I have many foggy memories, and though there may have been better ways to cope, the one I chose as a child - and the one that become my ‘go to’ during my adult life - become this disconnection. It became so that I could literally feel myself drift away from my physical body not wanting to be present to any part of the traumatic process.

A few years on, and as I entered my early teens, the family relocate from living in Sydney to the Central Coast. Here I was, just starting high school, leaving behind everything I identified with as being ‘me.’ As if physically entering into a new rite of passage transitioning from childhood into teenage-hood wasn’t enough.

I was battling with the adults around me trying to convince them that something wasn’t quite right with my vision.

We spent what appeared to be a significantly large duration of the first three years of my secondary education in consultations with optometrists, ophthalmologists, nuclear imaging of various kinds. At one point an optometrist even told mum that there was nothing wrong with my sight and she should take me to see a psychiatrist because the issue was in my head. The doubt that I had embodied after a medical professional planted that seed can only be described as overwhelming.

Short of the long, somewhere in all of this Mum and Dad’s relationship was ending and I was feeling like a guinea pig being involved in numerous tests by a professor and his entourage at Sydney Eye Hospital.

Now if you have ever experienced pupil dilation at its maximum you can relate to what I consider to be one of the most edgy sensations on a regular basis. Just to make things even more dramatic my file gets lost in the hospital relocating and a phone call is received one weekend to say that we better make an appointment because there is an outcome that needs to be discussed.l

I sit with a feeling of some relief that finally after all this time an answer related to what could explain why no one else has been able to give came with a crashing blow.

Diagnosis is a rare eye disease of the retina ‘stargardts’, resulting in progressive vision loss.

I am 14 years old, and the rest of the information I was only partially hearing, some mention about using visual aids in the classroom, forget any career path that requires use of your colour recognition because that would also start to be lost. Various other comments which have troubled me for years.

Upon reflection as a trained therapist I do question how can so little emotional support be considered when such a life changing moment is delivered.

However I am who I am today because of the adversity that I have experienced in my lifetime. I have empathy and compassion, heightened senses greater depth all as a result of this unique setback.

Yes, I can’t drive, read text without visual aids and assistive technology, watch the world in the same way that most regular sighted people do, but I tell you I make the most of every last bit of sight that I still have. I battle eye strain, headaches, emotional and physical fatigue because I make my eyes work so much harder than they are capable of in order to just get by and to be able to do things independently.

I have faked it every single day since being informed and most people would not have any idea that I have visual challenges. These days because of the self exploration work that I have done I contentedly identify this a profound strength.

Before I turned 17 I was in a serious relationship with a man I end up marrying, and soon after I give birth to two gorgeous girls. Approaching my thirties I felt a strong calling to become more than a devoted mother and wife. I felt that my part time employment wasn’t fulfilling enough and I expressed an urge to go back to some further studies. He wasn’t prepared to support me, encouraging me to ‘let it go’. Then, after 16 years together this relationship comes to a devastating end.

At first, I am shocked, resisting any and all help, even though I found it difficult to do more than the basics for myself and the girls in the early stages. I felt completely lost.

Fortunately I was already linked into various professional supports extending into both traditional and alternative approaches which ended up shaping my future decision to study alternative medicine and therapies through The College of Complementary Medicine.

I committed four years doing intense soul searching work gaining a greater understanding of myself mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I progressively refined my own skills so I can facilitate a nurturing space for others.

I first studied Kinesiology and Mind Body Medicine, and then found my true calling and what I believe to be my life’s purpose: Transpersonal Art Therapy.

I have refined my skills since then to increase the safety of individuals at risk of suicide by being able to recognise, respond and support in a crisis situation as a Telephone Crisis Support Worker with Lifeline.

In more recent times I personally understand the emotional and physical tug of war that leads to an individual who decide to stay, leave and return to an unsafe home environment impacted by domestic and family violence “yes, even with formal training in this area”

I want my story to inspire others that regardless of life not playing out in accordance with what we once thought to be critical, life is what you make of it. And for me I want to make a difference. I want to work together with people that are requiring support during transitional stages of life to create monumental change by re-defining the relationship they have with themselves.