The theme for IWD 2025, March Forward is the theme of my life and of many women before me.
In 1961 I was born 4 weeks premi and was very unwell, it tool several weeks to work out what was wrong ( 2 bad kidneys that were killing me) and then several more to get me back to birth weight for surgery, at 3 months of age I had a double nephrectomy and I figuratively ……marched forward.
I had a pretty uneventful primary school years, moving several times as my father, a Captain in the army, was moved around. In 1970 my father left, only to be seen sporadically for the next few decades until his death. Leaving my mother with 2 kids, a year 9 education and no government payments at the time for single mothers (Dad never paid child support)…..but we marched forward.
We moved back to Mum’s hometown, where she still lives at 89, so she would have some family support. Highschool was interesting, I was the weird kid with no Dad, quiet until you got to know me, teased for being small, wearing glasses , loving theatre….but I marched to a different drum and I marched forward.
Fast forward to the end of highschool, a new romance had me swept off my feet and university beckoned. A year after leaving school I was married at the rip old age of 19, a babies quickly followed at 20, 22 and 26. But it was not a happy marriage, it was marked with domestic violence. He was in the army, joined when our first child was 6 weeks old, him being away was a blessing, a time of no abuse. But I told no one, people knew of course, the bruises were hard to hide, but nobody said a thing until many years later.
He finally left the army after a nasty bike accident, which increased the abuse with an TBI, and we moved to QLD in 1993. After the accident the abuse got a lot worse, there was no warning to the attacks and finally after lots of counselling I felt strong enough to leave, the abuse got worse with stalking, kidnapping and being held against my will…..I marched forward
I grew stronger and one day as I stood up for myself over the phone, he backed down, it was a turning point. I had started some distance learning to get into my own business. I had been a nanny/housekeeper for several years and the kids were off to school, so I started 2nd Wives Club Home Services, a housekeeping business, where as one client said, it was like having her own wife, I put away her undies and bought her tampons….I really started to march forward.
Approaching 40 I had a renewed sense of who I was, I revisited the 17 year old with big dreams that I had been before meeting my ex husband and I promised her I would live those dreams.
First step was to unpack my abuse and group therapy was illuminating, at the end I realised that I was attracted to women and not only marched forward I ran.
Coming out was an awakening of who I was always meant to be, I found community, became an activist, went to uni and I blossomed. I had amazing relationships, not all ending well but I grew and learnt so much more about myself. Over the next 20 years I gained 3 degrees, eventually had a state wide role at the QLD AIDS Council that was my dream job and fought a 9.5 year anti discrimination case with a local gun owning council member who had a sticker on his car stating that the only rights gays had was the right to die. We won, we set a precedent and ensured constitutional law was embedded. Community advocacy marching forward
During this time I also navigated menopause, now that was something, even as a sexologist who had loads of research to back me up I struggled to get medical professionals to listen to me, until one day someone decided to refer me to a specialists and what I had known was confirmed, I needed testosterone as mine was 0. Self advocacy 101, marching forward.
And then……the end of a relationship meant once again I was being stalked, but as technology had evolved it was now online as well….hello CPTSD…..marching slowed right down.
A new love in another state meant a leap of faith, a move away from the trauma, a fresh start, I was taking back my power and marching forward again….little did I know I had jumped int the fire….covert narcissist, attractive, charming, generous and at the time a balm to my CPTSD affected soul.
For 4 years life was amazing, overseas travels, something I had dreamed of as that 17 year old, new friends, lots of adventures…then lockdown…burnout…and when I was trying to give from an empty cup I was discarded in a new state in lockdown with only a suitcase as everything I owned was still back in the other state…..I hit rock bottom. I had been suicidal in the past but it was always about escaping the abuse and the pain, this was different, this was a deep hopelessness, but I was not going back there….I pulled myself together and I marched forward.
I found a job, a share house, then a housesit, while I waited to save enough to get my thing sent over…I marched forward, baby steps at first but then a run
I found a little old flat, all I could afford, made new friends and reconnected with old ones and eventually a 20 year friendship became more. Just as I was revelling in a new love I was diagnosed with breast cancer….time to regroup and then march forward
Advocacy 101 ramped up…medical professionals once more would not listen, by now I am 60 years old, they treat my like I know nothing…guess what I know my body……my body my choice, I march forward and get my double mastectomy to flat
It is now 2.5 years ago I had surgery, I moved back to QLD to be closer to my kids and grandies. I advocate for flat as a viable surgery options, I volunteer with BCNA and Breastscreen as a consumer rep, I work as a D&I Advisor to a DV service working with perpetrators and as a sexologist.
Cancer treatment has left me with some issues but I am back where I love to be, I have an amazing partner and am closer to family and I continue to march forward.
In 1961 I was born 4 weeks premi and was very unwell, it tool several weeks to work out what was wrong ( 2 bad kidneys that were killing me) and then several more to get me back to birth weight for surgery, at 3 months of age I had a double nephrectomy and I figuratively ……marched forward.
I had a pretty uneventful primary school years, moving several times as my father, a Captain in the army, was moved around. In 1970 my father left, only to be seen sporadically for the next few decades until his death. Leaving my mother with 2 kids, a year 9 education and no government payments at the time for single mothers (Dad never paid child support)…..but we marched forward.
We moved back to Mum’s hometown, where she still lives at 89, so she would have some family support. Highschool was interesting, I was the weird kid with no Dad, quiet until you got to know me, teased for being small, wearing glasses , loving theatre….but I marched to a different drum and I marched forward.
Fast forward to the end of highschool, a new romance had me swept off my feet and university beckoned. A year after leaving school I was married at the rip old age of 19, a babies quickly followed at 20, 22 and 26. But it was not a happy marriage, it was marked with domestic violence. He was in the army, joined when our first child was 6 weeks old, him being away was a blessing, a time of no abuse. But I told no one, people knew of course, the bruises were hard to hide, but nobody said a thing until many years later.
He finally left the army after a nasty bike accident, which increased the abuse with an TBI, and we moved to QLD in 1993. After the accident the abuse got a lot worse, there was no warning to the attacks and finally after lots of counselling I felt strong enough to leave, the abuse got worse with stalking, kidnapping and being held against my will…..I marched forward
I grew stronger and one day as I stood up for myself over the phone, he backed down, it was a turning point. I had started some distance learning to get into my own business. I had been a nanny/housekeeper for several years and the kids were off to school, so I started 2nd Wives Club Home Services, a housekeeping business, where as one client said, it was like having her own wife, I put away her undies and bought her tampons….I really started to march forward.
Approaching 40 I had a renewed sense of who I was, I revisited the 17 year old with big dreams that I had been before meeting my ex husband and I promised her I would live those dreams.
First step was to unpack my abuse and group therapy was illuminating, at the end I realised that I was attracted to women and not only marched forward I ran.
Coming out was an awakening of who I was always meant to be, I found community, became an activist, went to uni and I blossomed. I had amazing relationships, not all ending well but I grew and learnt so much more about myself. Over the next 20 years I gained 3 degrees, eventually had a state wide role at the QLD AIDS Council that was my dream job and fought a 9.5 year anti discrimination case with a local gun owning council member who had a sticker on his car stating that the only rights gays had was the right to die. We won, we set a precedent and ensured constitutional law was embedded. Community advocacy marching forward
During this time I also navigated menopause, now that was something, even as a sexologist who had loads of research to back me up I struggled to get medical professionals to listen to me, until one day someone decided to refer me to a specialists and what I had known was confirmed, I needed testosterone as mine was 0. Self advocacy 101, marching forward.
And then……the end of a relationship meant once again I was being stalked, but as technology had evolved it was now online as well….hello CPTSD…..marching slowed right down.
A new love in another state meant a leap of faith, a move away from the trauma, a fresh start, I was taking back my power and marching forward again….little did I know I had jumped int the fire….covert narcissist, attractive, charming, generous and at the time a balm to my CPTSD affected soul.
For 4 years life was amazing, overseas travels, something I had dreamed of as that 17 year old, new friends, lots of adventures…then lockdown…burnout…and when I was trying to give from an empty cup I was discarded in a new state in lockdown with only a suitcase as everything I owned was still back in the other state…..I hit rock bottom. I had been suicidal in the past but it was always about escaping the abuse and the pain, this was different, this was a deep hopelessness, but I was not going back there….I pulled myself together and I marched forward.
I found a job, a share house, then a housesit, while I waited to save enough to get my thing sent over…I marched forward, baby steps at first but then a run
I found a little old flat, all I could afford, made new friends and reconnected with old ones and eventually a 20 year friendship became more. Just as I was revelling in a new love I was diagnosed with breast cancer….time to regroup and then march forward
Advocacy 101 ramped up…medical professionals once more would not listen, by now I am 60 years old, they treat my like I know nothing…guess what I know my body……my body my choice, I march forward and get my double mastectomy to flat
It is now 2.5 years ago I had surgery, I moved back to QLD to be closer to my kids and grandies. I advocate for flat as a viable surgery options, I volunteer with BCNA and Breastscreen as a consumer rep, I work as a D&I Advisor to a DV service working with perpetrators and as a sexologist.
Cancer treatment has left me with some issues but I am back where I love to be, I have an amazing partner and am closer to family and I continue to march forward.
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