From The Inside of My Fall

Amos Ashley

A Fall from Grace: The Unraveling of My World

I went from having private dinners with people like Hamish & Andy, being flown around the country, nominated for national innovation awards, and working with the district’s biggest businesses, to being admitted to psych wards, being medicated, hated by my own community, becoming homeless, and enduring one traumatic experience after another. The harshest part was the fact that some people were saying it was exactly what I deserved.

No, it’s not 9/11, it’s not hell rising—it’s a chapter of my actual life, my fall from grace. For six years, between 2016 and 2022, my life went from wonderful, though still in need of support for long-term unresolved issues, to a labyrinth of death, destruction, decay, and otherworldly affairs.

Aside from our maker, during that period, nobody else on the planet understood what was actually going on with me. There were assumptions, presumptions, half-truths, stories, claims, accusations, speculations, allegations. By the end of it, there wasn’t even a fragment of the corpse of me left.

It had been said to me before by somebody who was close to me, “You were given a chance, but you didn’t listen.” I guess that was just their perspective, but I had always been listening closely and responding throughout my life. Yet, it had seemed to me that nobody was listening to my responses. My voice was drowned out by the crowd. It seemed as if the people around me just wanted me to ‘fall into line’ and had no time or desire to hear any of my backstory, my struggles, my thoughts, my perspective, or my situation. I needed specific, special attention in certain areas of my life before I could permit myself to move forward in any direction, and I found nobody around who I could let in to provide that support. In the end, I drowned.

There is more detail to my backstory than there is time or space to tell it here, yet to understand more comprehensively who I am today, those details are quite relevant. Maybe one day there will be time to delve deeper into my backstory, but for now, I'll share some of the basics.

I was born in Kyabram, and we lived in Bendigo for a short period, then moved to Myrtleford, where I started Kindergarten and my first half of Primary School. I was raised by my mother and stepfather in a religious household, attending several of the old Assemblies of God churches, now rebranded as Australian Christian Churches, a branch of Pentecostal Christianity.

Foundations of My World: A Childhood of Contrasts

My early years were fairly strict, and I was preserved from much of the world’s influence. This had both its benefits and deficits. On the positive side, my parents ensured I grew up in a stable household. I always had a roof over my head, food on the table, and the basic provisions needed to survive. For that, I am deeply grateful. They showed up in key moments and provided a foundation of care that I know not every child receives, and those material and structural forms of love were important.

However, there were gaps that profoundly affected my development. While my physical needs were met, I often felt emotionally unsafe. I struggled to open up about some my own personal needs, challenges, hopes, and dreams without fear of feeling attacked, ignored, or rejected. As a result, I kept a lot inside that I really needed to talk about and process. This became the beginning of my self-destructive habit of isolating my true self from the world—a pattern that would follow me for years.

Looking back, I understand that my parents did the best they could with the tools and understanding they had at the time. My mum, in particular, has always had a loving heart, though her approach and perspectives often clashed with mine. At times, she felt like a powerful queen whose weight I couldn’t bear; other times, she was gentle and encouraging when I was at my lowest, even if she didn’t fully understand my needs or struggles. I know her intentions have always been rooted in love, even when her methods missed the mark. What I truly desire is a relationship where she empowers me without feeling threatened by my power or momentum—a relationship where her support is constant, whether I am thriving or struggling. Talking about these things has been a challenge, but she is my mother, and no matter the complexities, she will always hold a place in my heart.

In hindsight, I see that their efforts to protect and provide for me were significant, even if certain emotional and developmental needs went unmet. These experiences have shaped me, for better or worse, into the person I am today, and I am working toward integrating the good they gave me with the lessons learned from the struggles we faced as a family.

Other things, like only ever being able to listen to Christian catalogue music, the lack of exposure and encouragement to get involved in community activities or sports, or not being able to receive the toy guitar my grandfather purchased for me as a gift before he died because I’d become a ‘devil-worshiping guitar player,’ left lasting marks. I remember running off to my room devastated and upset because none of that made any sense to me. Finding out at age 13 that my stepfather wasn’t my biological father left me feeling unsure if anything was real. What could I trust in?

I was a loving child—cheeky and silly, but always with the intention to give, to extend generosity in one way or another. Our family, along with my two new sisters, moved to Benalla when I was 8 or 9. I was first enrolled in a small Christian school for a couple of years before transitioning to a State Primary School and later commencing High School at Benalla High School (Benalla P-12 College).

There, I shared classes with Jesse Hooper from the band Killing Heidi, and we once worked together on an Ancient History project. During lunch periods, I’d often hear Jesse and Ella Hooper rehearsing in the school assembly hall. I even snuck in a few times to watch.

Silenced Identity: The Struggles of Growing Up Unspoken

At age 10 or 11, I found myself having crushes on my male friends from school or church. Because of the strong anti-homosexual stance of the church, none of those expressions were tolerated, supported, or even discussed. Instead, I felt like I couldn’t discuss any of my thoughts or feelings related to my crushes, even though they were, to me at that age, natural and innocent childhood developments. Because of the awkward nature of things around my childhood sexual development, I found myself feeling quite alone, unsupported, unloved, abandoned, and basically like some kind of freak. In fact, the topic of sex in the household was taboo altogether. We didn’t talk about body parts, sexual identity, or sexual development of any kind, much as we weren’t allowed to watch The Simpsons, unlike many of the other kids at school.

I internalized a lot of my feelings from that stage onward in life because I felt so ashamed of opening up about these feelings I was having. This was really the beginning of my fall, decades before I became a public train wreck later at age 36.

When I was 15, our family moved to Wodonga from Benalla. It was then we joined a local Wodonga church, where I became heavily involved in many of its programs, such as the youth group, as well as the audio-visual department with roles including live sound mixing, video production and live video mixing, voiceovers, performance vocals, and youth leadership.

Exiled from Belonging: Faith, Identity, and the Cost of Truth

I was rather well accepted in the church at that point in time. I was even given a key to the building and my own security code so I could enter at any time for the purposes of setups and other developments. All the while, my same-sex attraction and inability to open up and talk about my sexual development with anyone was brewing under the surface. The inner conflict, shame, guilt, and sense of isolation were growing stronger with each passing year.

By my late teens, however, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I felt like I was going to burst if I couldn’t speak to anyone, but I wasn’t sure who I could trust. I finally told one of my friends at the time that I was ‘bisexual’ because I didn’t really know what I was feeling or how to describe it. Word ended up getting back to the church leadership, and I was put under close observation and made to attend a form of sexual conversion therapy if I wanted to remain in my role as a youth leader. Adding to that, news of my ‘sexual identity’ spread around the church fairly quickly, and the favour I once found in their eyes was rapidly diminishing.

I quit attending the conversion therapy after six months and was subsequently stepped down from my role as a youth leader, which up until that point had been something I held in high regard and honour. I felt like I had a sense of belonging and purpose. That all came crashing to the ground in an instant.

The 1990s (ages 10–19) was an incredible era in world culture and music culture (the first half of which I mostly missed due to the strict religiously influenced nature of the household), but on the inside, I was experiencing violent conflict, and I hid it exceptionally well. I was a professional at hiding it. It was a mix of shame, guilt, abandonment, rejection, a whirlwind of anxiety, lack of confidence, and low self-esteem stemming from the lack of acceptance, support, public humiliation, and embarrassment. There were no humans around me who would take me under their wings or whom I could open up to about my human development for some guidance, acceptance, understanding, and support.

By around age 21 (2001), the church fell out of love with me, and still, there was nobody I could talk to for support, acceptance, and guidance. In a few different cases, opening up got me pushed even further away. By that stage, I’d earned the nickname "Freakboy," albeit in a somewhat endearing tone. I no longer felt wanted or supported by the church I’d grown up in; it was no longer a home for me. So I left and went into full-time commercial media work in the network radio industry.

Prior to working full-time in media, I had done some training at a Christian narrowcasting station, as well as countless hours of ‘bedroom’ radio shows and listening to Ty Frost hosting the Hot 30 Countdown on B104.9 FM. I performed as a live DJ in pubs, clubs, weddings, parties, and events. I mostly completed an Advanced Certificate of Media Studies at Wodonga TAFE, where I met other multimedia professionals such as Robert Morrison, Michael Banovic, and Robyne Young.

• Robert Morrison, former AMV-4 and Prime Network News Reader (1979–1990), taught the radio component.

• Michael Banovic, former Nine News camera operator and editor, as well as DJ Entertainer & MC for Bowens Entertainment, taught the video, multimedia, and TV component.

• Robyne Young, who has 30 years of experience in journalism, marketing, media, writing, and event management, and is a CSU lecturer, taught me Publicity & Public Relations.

I hosted various nightly pop-based music shows on 107.3 Border FM, the community radio station, and worked at various events and on the road with Albury Sound & Lighting, including as a lighting and follow-spot operator for a regionally touring Neil Diamond Tribute Show. Additionally, I worked as an Assistant Stage Tech at the Albury Entertainment Centre, assisting with regionally touring shows at the venue.

Breaking into the Industry: From Work Experience to On-Air Dreams

Added to that, I did work experience with Dylan Lewis, Jane Gazzo, Angus Sampson, and Leigh Whannell (who later went on to write the Saw horror movie franchise) on the Melbourne-based ABC Television show Recovery. This was a live broadcasted three-hour music show every Saturday morning between 1996–2000. I did work experience at B104.9 FM as well, mainly working in the on-air and commercial audio production departments, meeting all the personalities and recording the odd voiceover for a commercial with Barry ‘Crash’ McCaul, who was the production manager at the time.

A few years later, in 1999, B104.9 FM had moved premises and became 104.9 Star FM, and ‘Crash’ allowed me back to volunteer to practice producing radio commercials for three hours every Saturday morning for about six months, while he hosted the ‘Buy Swap Sell’ show on 1494 2AY. Then, in 2000, they (DMG Radio) hired me as a full-time Junior Commercial Producer. This was a massive achievement for me. I was over the moon to be officially joining the mainstream commercial media industry alongside all of my local media figures whom I had looked up to since moving to Wodonga in 1995. I was responsible for producing radio commercials and providing voiceovers for 22 networked radio stations across Victoria, New South Wales, and South Australia.

I desperately wanted to be on-air, however. While working at 104.9 Star FM and the networked stations, I was still hosting weekly shows at 107.3 Border FM until a full-time host and audio producer job came up in Moree, NSW, at Now FM & 2VM, just a stone’s throw from Lightning Ridge and Tamworth. I took that job and moved north in 2001. I hosted the nightly ‘Dirty Thirty,’ which was the 2SM Caralis network’s take on the ‘Hot 30’—aka Top 30 songs based loosely off ARIA charts. I produced station branding, commercials, and was an Assistant Music Director and Promotions Assistant.

The Rise and Fall of The Star Party

Six months later, I received a phone call from Anthony ‘Wighty’ Wight, the then Group Program Director of the Star FM network, inviting me back to voice and produce radio commercials, as well as feature as an announcer on-air across the 12 Star FM network stations on weekends. I accepted the opportunity and returned to Albury in 2002. The network became Macquarie Southern Cross Media at this point, and between 2002–2007, I developed my own network song request show alongside the content and production teams called The Star Party. It featured plenty of co-hosts in the studio, including many celebrities via phone and in-studio. Even singer Kamahl joined us at one point. We linked up parties all across Victoria, New South Wales, and South Australia on the phones, played countless song requests, gave away plenty of prizes, and consistently delivered an epic Saturday night party atmosphere filled with antics, games, banter, and shenanigans.

The Star Party was quite successful and had a lot of fans, which was why I was rather upset when the network ended the show and replaced it with another program—essentially the same format but broadcast out of Sydney across the full national network. The new show borrowed many of the concepts developed for The Star Party. On one hand, it was disappointing that they didn’t approach me to take my show national instead. On the other hand, it was a compliment that the format I had developed was strong enough to be adapted at a higher level.

Either way, I was feeling down about the decision because that show was my life—literally. It was the highlight of my week: prepping the show, the celebrity interviews and giveaways, and the thrill of broadcasting live with phone lines lighting up like a Christmas tree for six hours of high-energy radio. So in the second quarter of 2007, I took six months off and invested myself full-time into launching an independent record label called Vemma Records in partnership with an Albury/Melbourne-based band called Star Assassin. I handled music video production, writing bios and media releases, securing interviews with music journalists, band photography, merchandise, and other marketing-related duties. It was an incredible experience that created some unforgettable memories.

Climbing the Ranks in Commercial Media

By the end of 2007, I returned to radio, resuming my role as a radio commercial voiceover and producer while hosting various shifts on the Star FM network. During this time, I had the privilege of working with countless local talents, many of whom went on to take roles across Australia. I also collaborated with numerous locally based businesses, helping them master their advertising and marketing campaigns.

A highlight of this period was working with Louise Arnold on a weekly basis, producing her radio and TV commercials. My work was diverse—I hosted weekend radio shifts, live radio broadcasts, and filled in for breakfast, morning, afternoon, and occasional overnight radio shows. By this stage, the network had been rebranded as Southern Cross Media Group.

Beyond my on-air duties, I worked as an MC, hosting various live events across the district, including fashion and modelling shows at the old Liquid Nightclub on Dean Street. I also joined the network’s promotions department, where I engaged in live phone and Outside Broadcast (OB) crosses, driving Warran, the black Star FM ute, and working in street-based promotions that included giveaways and prizes.

At that time, 104.9 Star FM, 105.7 The River, 1494 2AY, and Southern Cross Ten all operated from the same building. This was when Steve Block was hosting the breakfast show on 2AY, following his decades as a senior journalist and nightly news presenter at Prime News. I had always looked up to Steve and had wanted to observe a Prime News bulletin being broadcast live at the Albury studios before they ceased production there, but unfortunately, I never got the chance.

Having Steve in the building was a buzz—it was a reminder that I was among talented and highly regarded media professionals. However, for some reason, Steve and I never bonded, and we didn’t get to know one another before he left 2AY to work as a media advisor for Sussan Ley MP. Perhaps our paths will align more constructively in the future—who knows what’s around the corner?

In 2009, I was promoted to Network Image Audio Producer, managing audio branding for the 22 stations on the Southern Hub radio network. Around this time, the network rebranded again to Southern Cross Austereo (SCA), as it’s still known today. I continued hosting on-air shifts throughout this period.

In 2013, I was promoted again to National Production Audio Distribution Manager for the 74+ stations on the national regional network. My role involved integrating and managing daily image and branding audio flow across multiple media networks, coordinating with various departments, content directors, producers, marketing and sales managers, station managers, broadcast staff, news directors, and promotions managers. This included integrating regional and metropolitan content and branding under the supportive leadership of Brendan ‘BT’ Tacey, SCA’s National Head of Production for Hit FM & Triple M.

Success Without Fulfillment: The Isolation Beneath the Spotlight

My career was thriving, and opportunities to connect and network with some of the country’s most influential figures—both behind the scenes and in the limelight—were abundant. However, beneath the surface, things were not as they seemed. I was a reliable and dependable worker, but aside from my two cats, I had little else in my life. My job had essentially become my entire world. While I loved my career, my life lacked balance and meaningful human connection.

My family had moved away years earlier, and I had no wife, partner, children, or close friends. Most of the people in my life were associates who seemed to enjoy the ‘character’ of Amos Ashley more than the person beneath the layers of persona. Outwardly, I continued performing, but inwardly, I yearned for balance. I felt incredibly empty. The unresolved issues and impacts from my childhood and teenage years remained unaddressed, quietly undermining my growth. I experienced ‘arrested development,’ as much of my emotional and personal growth seemed to have stalled around age 16. My soul felt stuck, waiting for the answers and support that never came.

Despite my professional success, the lack of solid personal relationships eroded my confidence and left me feeling insecure, making it difficult to put myself out there. I was no longer involved in sports, local functions, or community groups and had even withdrawn from hosting local events. My life became a monotonous cycle of work and home, with only my cats and garden providing a sense of companionship. Adding to this, I struggled with persistent neck and back problems—possibly the result of years of poor posture while working at a computer—which further contributed to my isolation.

The trauma, inner conflict, and religious influences from my past made relationships nearly impossible. I had never gotten close to a woman, fearing rejection based on past experiences. Similarly, any relationships I attempted with men were sabotaged by my guilt and shame—deeply ingrained from religious indoctrination and the lack of support or acceptance in critical areas of my early development.

The Fall Begins: A Slip, A Fracture, and the Unraveling

Despite the challenges, I was proud of my professional achievements and my ability to rise from a difficult past. However, I felt divided. There was the character Amos Ashley that people knew, and then there was the real me—the one nobody knew. Being a single guy in a high-profile national media role in Albury-Wodonga, I often felt misunderstood and uncertain on a personal level. Still, my inner vision and drive were more alive than ever.

Things took a turn for the worse in 2015. During an outing at a waterfall in Beechworth with a young hip-hop artist I was producing at the time, I slipped on a wet rock, sliding 50 meters down a smooth rock face at a 45-degree angle. I was heading toward a 50–100 meter drop when a boulder abruptly stopped my fall. Unfortunately, my right foot collided with the boulder at high velocity. In shock, I was carried back to the car and had to drive myself to Albury Base Hospital, as the others didn’t have driver’s licenses. X-rays revealed a fractured foot, and I was discharged with pain medication and crutches.

The pain was intense, and although I regularly spoke to my doctor about it over the next several years, my requests for further treatment and investigation were repeatedly dismissed—met with vague reassurances, reluctance to order imaging, or assumptions that it would resolve on its own. With no guidance or support to navigate the medical system, I relied entirely on my GP, trusting their approach was sufficient. I had no advocate, no referrals, and no deeper diagnostics—just basic painkillers and temporary measures that did little as the pain worsened. Left without direction, I struggled to cope, unaware of what other options existed or how to push for the care I truly needed.

Without close support, the pain went untreated and became unbearable. Desperate for relief, I resorted to self-medicating with cannabis, having read that it could help with neurological pain and inflammation. While it masked some discomfort, it did nothing to address the underlying condition, and with no regulation of dosage or delivery method, it was an unreliable solution. The combination of untreated physical pain, inner turmoil, lack of support, and unregulated cannabis use caused me to begin to unravel.

The chronic pain in my lower back, right leg, hips, neck, and right arm worsened, consuming me with inflammation and eroding my temperament and nature. I was losing the essence of who I was, with no one to call for help. My public unravelling was devastating. Living in a small district, rumours spread quickly. Being a prominent media figure exacerbated the situation, increasing gossip and further isolating me.

The Breaking Point: Isolation, Intervention, and Betrayal

By November 2016, the physical pain became unmanageable. My mental and emotional state deteriorated, leaving me unable to perform my duties for the network. I had other development ideas and innovations for them, but there was no interest or support at that time, so I reluctantly resigned. Without a salary, I couldn’t afford rent. Drifting off my usual tracks, I explored adult photography content—feeling lost and disconnected from my intended path, yet still driven by research and experimentation.

What I needed most was a good friend—someone to help me process my inner conflict, seek proper physical treatment, and create a plan to move forward. But no such person was in my life.

Someone contacted a social worker on my behalf, who visited me, but rather than listening to my backstory or understanding my struggles, they seemed more focused on managing me as a case. Their approach felt clinical and detached, as if I were just another problem to be handled rather than a person needing genuine help. They suggested I see a psychologist, to which I agreed—not because I believed I needed one, but because I had always been fascinated by psychology and the mind. Having never spoken to a psychologist before, I thought it could be an interesting opportunity to network and gain insight.

Unfortunately, the moment I stepped into the psychologist’s office, I realized it was a setup. There was no conversation, no assessment—just a demand: “Either you come voluntarily, or we take you by force.”

Locked Away: The Mental Health System and Losing Myself

I’m a peaceful person by nature, so I wasn’t going to put up a fight. However, I was extremely upset that my opportunity to discuss my backstory, work through my inner conflicts, and find physical treatment was hijacked by impatient and uncaring professionals who had no concern for the life I had worked so hard to build. They admitted me to a mental health ward, locking me in an isolation room with a metal bed and toilet for three days for observation. It was literally like a prison cell. I had suddenly gone from being a professional producer and broadcaster for Australia’s largest media network, working with local authorities to cover major fires around the region, to being thrown in the hole like a crook. It was surreal and devastating to experience.

I remained in the mental ward for three weeks, subjected to observation, medication, interviews, and psychological analysis. Their conclusion? That I had a unique mind. With no real support plan in place, they discharged me into the care of my parents. I spent the next six months living in a spare room at my parents' house in Geelong, while all of my possessions from my three-bedroom Albury apartment of 13 years were packed into a storage shed—where they still sit today, as I write this on February 16, 2025, on a 23°C afternoon.

While my parents' home provided stability, it offered zero social life. My underlying health concerns and inner conflicts remained unresolved, and I was placed on lithium and antipsychotics, which caused thought deceleration, analysis suppression, and emotional suppression. My once incredibly high-functioning and creative brain had essentially shut down. I struggled to communicate and express myself effectively as I once had, leaving me lost, confused, and more alone than ever—with nobody actively helping me rebuild my life.

Drifting Through Uncertainty: A Search for Stability

I posted on Facebook that I was interested in cheap Albury/Wodonga accommodation so that I could relocate back from Geelong and received an offer from a kind man who rented me a room in his house at a rate I could afford on my Centrelink payments, which was my new source of income while figuring out where I stood and how to go about treatment. I took the offer and moved back to Wodonga by the end of 2017. It turned out he was from a bikie family, deeply invested in their sense of community and looking out for one another.

Despite this, I was still in bad shape. None of my medical issues or internal conflicts were being treated. I lacked solid support, was still medicated with mental health drugs, and self-medicated with cannabis for the pain and discomfort. I was far from the heights I had once climbed to in my career. Determined to understand humanity better, I began social research across various sectors of society, seeking to learn from people of all walks of life. I pushed aside my fears and anxieties to hear their stories and challenges and fully immersed myself in them.

Around March 2018, I had to vacate the room I was renting to make way for the leaseholder’s family member. This marked the beginning of my homelessness. The local housing agency, Beyond Housing, couldn’t provide me with a home to rent or occupy but did put me up at the Twin City Motor Inn for two weeks. While I was grateful for the temporary shelter, those two weeks passed quickly, leaving me desperate and unsure of what to do next.

I went to an Albury food bank, only to find it closed. However, I encountered an older woman nearby who offered me a room to rent in her home. Relieved, I moved in, but the house was overrun with cockroaches. The woman herself had been through extremely troubling times—she had worked as a street prostitute in Melbourne, had struggled with heroin addiction, and endured domestic violence that left her brain damaged. The environment was far from ideal, but it was better than living on the streets. Still, it became clear she needed more help than I did, and living there proved to be very challenging.

A Nomadic Existence: Seeking Shelter and Solace

After three weeks, around April 2018, I found another option through Facebook—a garage—and moved in. While the garage was an improvement, it was still far from ideal. After almost two months, I was asked to leave again. By May 2018, with nowhere else to go, I pitched a tent at a camping ground by the weir and lived there for ten days. From there, I made my way to Berrigan, staying with my uncle for a few weeks. Not long after, via Facebook, an old schoolmate offered a connection to someone with a spare room. In June 2018, I moved into a unit owned by a locally based drag queen. The lounge was like an art gallery of wigs. The unit was small but peaceful and clean, giving me a much-needed respite while I tried to figure out my next steps.

After several months, the leaseholder moved out of town, and I had to vacate the unit once again. Homeless and feeling utterly beaten down in spirit, physically, mentally, and emotionally, I didn’t know what to do. In desperation, I called my youngest sister and begged for help. She and her partner found me a share house with an available room. By the end of 2018, around November or December, I moved in that very day. My sister generously helped cover some of my rent for the first few months, providing a much-needed lifeline during one of the most difficult times of my life to date.

Rock Bottom and the Road to Reinvention

By this stage, I was a wreck—untreated physical pain, unresolved inner conflict, lack of close relationships or support, and living on government payments. Years of survival mode had taken a toll on my body and mind. I was still self-medicating with cannabis and taking mental health medications that weren’t helping my mindset. I felt at rock bottom and even considered ending my life, but I knew my purpose was greater. I turned my focus to understanding the mental health system, medical system, and legal system from the inside out.

Things got so low that I smoked plastic scrapings covered in resin from my cannabis grinder, hoping to numb myself completely. My life spiraled further. Under the influence of cannabis and other substances clouding my judgment, I explored adult photography again, inadvertently circulating images to the wrong people on social media. This led to a court case.

Following that, I conducted a social experiment, walking in public with private parts exposed to see if anyone would notice. This incident led to an arrest for indecent exposure and months in a mental health ward under heavy lithium and antipsychotic doses. I experienced the mental health system’s inner workings, mingling with patients of varying conditions, and it was startling.

After months, I was discharged under a psychiatrist’s care, awaiting court proceedings for the indecent exposure charge, which was dropped after a year. However, the medications turned me into a zombie. I became a hermit, sitting in an armchair all day watching TV, with no visitors or friends. The weight of my circumstances crushed me, leaving me haunted and traumatized for months.

I sat in silence, in the grip of death, lost, numb, and unable to express any emotion. I wanted to cry a river, but my body wouldn’t allow it. I used to cry easily, but now nothing. I used to sleep like a baby, but I’d become an insomniac, a medicated zombie with little to live for. Under the observation of my psychiatrist, I came off the mental health medication and began investing my time into developing principle-based frameworks. These frameworks were designed to rebuild a mindset pushed to the utter brink of existence, like mine had been. They were simple enough to integrate into the complexity of human society, usable by anyone—whether down and out or excelling in their field—to direct their minds toward constructive, creative, and productive thought patterns.

Alongside a friend I met along the way, I developed something called the Mind Bridge Card™. It is a collection of specific frameworks that work together to help focus and direct the mind toward positive growth. Used over time, it can assist a person in rebuilding their mindset and successfully reintegrating with society, or if already integrated, in leveling up internal operations.

Breaking Free: A New Chapter of Healing and Growth

By the time COVID-19 struck, I had already been isolated and alone for most of the time between 2016–2019. I spent 2019–2021 coming off mental health medications, installing the principle-based framework into my thinking, reading, volunteering at a local food share operation, and further developing the online course I had written back in 2017 while living with my parents in Geelong.

At the beginning of 2021, my stepdad gifted me a budgie and a cage to help me get back on my feet. Although I had never owned a bird before, my stepdad had kept Princess Parrots and African Ringneck Parrots when I was young. My first new budgie, Jackson, became my best friend and helped me climb out of the dark, isolated hole of depression. Soon after, I got him a friend, Jemima. I inherited SweetPea, and later bought William, Brumbie, and Georgie. Georgie and William had babies, Billy and Penelope. Then there was Princess Rahni and baby Clover.

By 2022, I was off all mental health medications and had moved past the worst of my fall from grace. However, my physical pain was still chronic, and I continued to self-medicate with cannabis while lacking support for medical treatment. It had never occurred to me, likely due to my traumatic headspace, to change doctors. When I did, my physical pain was finally taken seriously for the first time since my 2015 waterfall injury. The process of diagnosis began, though it was slow, and I experienced several ambulance calls as the pain became crippling. I was bedridden, unable to walk without excruciating pain in my hips and back.

Rebuilding Strength: A Journey Through Recovery and Renewal

I was prescribed proper pain medication, and by the end of 2022, with pain management under control, I was in a much better place. I still lived in the share house, and I was offered a casual role at Ace Radio’s 1494 2AY, a station where I had previously worked in my career. This gesture from past colleagues helped me reconnect with society. I produced the O & M Football and Netball call team live broadcasts alongside Gus MacLeod, Robbie Mackinlay, and Panda, as well as producing other live broadcasts back in the studio with talent like Matt Griffith, which I still do to this day.

In 2023, I had consultations with multiple surgeons and underwent a battery of diagnostics, including X-rays, MRIs, CTs, and blood tests. Finally, the cause of my pain was revealed: two prolapsed lumbar discs, two torn hips, two hernias, cervical facet arthropathy, and foraminal stenosis. These injuries had remained undiagnosed and untreated since the 2015 waterfall accident, untreated for eight years. Winning a medical insurance claim allowed me to rejoin a private health fund, which facilitated scheduling surgeries for 2024. The surgeries—two hip, two back, and two hernia operations—were delayed 12 months due to waiting periods for pre-existing conditions. Managing the chronic pain during this time was challenging, but I received proper medication and underwent steroid injections to help alleviate the pain.

In 2023, some old church associates of mine needed to rehome 22 birds—finches, canaries, quails, and small parrots. I took them in, rehomed some, and added 13 more birds to balance pairings. In total, I now have about 45 birds, some currently sitting on eggs. The birds were instrumental in my healing, teaching me how to socialize again after years of trauma and isolation.

In 2024, my surgeries began. Two back surgeries in February were followed by recovery, then hip surgeries in March and April, and two hernia surgeries in July. While most of this time was spent alone with my birds and cat, a few community-minded individuals visited, dropped off food, or helped with transportation, including the Wolki Family, Singh Family, and Seymour Family, for which I was deeply grateful.

Rising from the Ashes: Healing, Growth, and Moving Forward

I continued my casual work for 1494 2AY during recovery and rehabilitation. The rest of 2024 was dedicated to resting, physiotherapy, and personal training to regain muscle strength, as my body was weak and injury-prone. Before my 2015 injuries, I had been very fit, attending CrossFit and deadlifting 100kg. Post-surgery, my hips and lower back still caused some issues, but the reduction in pain was monumental and life-changing. As I rebuild core strength and stability, my mindset, temperament, and nature are returning to a healthy balance, allowing me to reopen emotionally, socially, and occupationally.

The progress is helping my personality reemerge, and I’m beginning to regain momentum in my life and mind after years of being out of action. While this account is a brief overview, it offers insight into my development and how I’ve been shaped. The past decade since my waterfall injury has been a journey through pain and unravelling, one I view quite differently from those around me, including family, friends, colleagues, and onlookers. It’s a perspective shaped by surviving and growing through every challenge.

There was a lot going on in my conscious and unconscious mind, and in my heart or soul, as I navigated through that tumultuous period. To some, it was just me losing the plot. To others, I’d had a breakdown. Some saw me as a menace to society, while others viewed me as someone on a unique path they couldn’t quite understand. For me, it was multi-layered. It wasn’t just one thing or another—it was a combination of events taking place simultaneously, about eight layers to be precise.

Firstly, it was an unravelling of my tightly wound early childhood and church life wounds, alongside the pressures of my 16-year media career in public life. Years of unresolved conflict, confusion, anxiety, rejection, betrayal, and abandonment were unwinding after being held together under immense pressure for so long.

Breaking the Bubble: A Journey Beyond Familiar Worlds

Secondly, it was a time to meet the real community outside of the bubbles I had lived in—the media bubble and the church culture bubble. Until then, I had lived a sheltered life, aware of the world but only at a distance. This period provided me with a deeper, firsthand understanding of different types of people and their journeys, offering alternative insights into how society operates and flows.

Thirdly, it was an opportunity to let go of the public media persona I’d been unwittingly stuck in for decades. It was freedom from that image—a chance to prioritize finding answers to the deeper questions that had been holding me back and arresting my development. It was a time to face trauma and embrace the necessary "coming undone" part of the process.

Fourthly, it was a time to heal from the madness and pain. I began seeking healing for my inner conflicts, turbulent emotions, fractured social and occupational life, inner spiritual struggles, and physical injuries.

Fifthly, it was a chance to explore aspects of life I’d never encountered before, particularly those I had missed while professionally representing corporate entities on public platforms. It was a period of self-discovery and growth.

Sixthly, it was a time to resolve my purpose and plans. At age 16, I had set a course for my life: to be part of the solution on this planet, whatever it took. I committed myself to researching human nature and understanding global issues with enough depth to produce effective responses to our evolving world. This period allowed me to combine my childhood knowledge, media network perspectives, and newfound societal insights to inform my future decisions constructively.

Laying the Foundations for a Future Rebuilt

Seventhly, it was a time to build a foundation for the future—not just for myself but also for my community and those I deeply care about. After spending nearly two decades building a media network, I shifted my focus to the needs of my family and community, aiming to contribute knowledge to their development.

Lastly, it was a time to deepen my spiritual relationship and refine my inner characteristics. This laid the groundwork for better interpersonal relationships and dynamics with individuals, groups, communities, nations, and various gatherings on this planet.

Alanis Morissette once sang, “I recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone.” I remember thinking, “Okay, I’ll give that a go.” So I did. I set wild, beyond-what-I-could-see goals. It was a challenge to my faith, pushing me to trust in the unseen. It lit a fire under me, driving me forward and forcing me to rise above challenges as if I had no other option. When you make promises, set public goals, or communicate visions, it’s a vulnerable act. Failing to deliver can make you feel like a liar and a chump, which is why many avoid stepping out of their comfort zones. Life is hard enough without adding the pressure of large goals, right?

But that pressure can be beautiful. It acts as a catalyst for growth—refining, shaping, teaching, transforming, and pushing us to become what is required. Without it, growth stagnates. Setting large requirements forces us to adapt and learn, or face the consequences. Nobody wants to choke, so biting off more than you can chew becomes a powerful tool for extracting the most from yourself.

A New Perspective: Financial Focus, Growth, and Gratitude

I had never prioritized money in my life. Many around me, including my stepdad and those in church culture, often spoke of money, but my passion had always been understanding people: who we are, how systems operate, and how society works. When I sought answers, they came—sometimes subtly, and sometimes like a punch in the face. For the first time in my 44 years, especially now that my health is under better management, I’m bringing financial provision to the foreground. Over the past decade, characters I’ve met have highlighted the urgency of financial provisions to sustain a healthy society, create scalable solutions, and provide relief and joy to the planet’s occupants.

Progress is essential for personal and societal development. Without progress, we regress. Hope is fundamental to progress, and investing in anything less than hope for a more satisfying shared existence leads to disappointment. This perspective drives me to muster the courage to take uncommon paths, explore uncharted territories, make misunderstood decisions, and navigate challenging terrain. Growth stretches us and increases our capacity, altering our shape and form. The goal is to understand and trust that process while focusing on objectives and weaving discoveries into a constructive, creative, and productive framework.

That brings us to the present moment. I am deeply grateful to my surgeons, doctors, and treating specialists, as well as to each person who has played an active role in my recovery, including family, colleagues, and community members. It would have been all too easy to become stuck in negative thinking patterns, learned helplessness, social alienation, poverty mentality, or even a psychosis mindset as a result of the trauma, medications, and substances that once fueled my pessimistic outlook.

It has now been six years since I moved into the share house at the end of 2018. This space has provided me with the safety and stability I needed to begin processing the PTSD I developed after enduring the traumatic circumstances of homelessness and survival mode. It has served as a haven where I could unpack and process events, organize treatment, and rehabilitate both my body and brain.

A Shelter, a Lifeline, and a Cultural Tapestry

My landlord, Peter Schmetzer, who operates a farm in Walwa and drives buses for Dyson Group a few days a week, has been incredibly supportive throughout this turbulent chapter of my life. His understanding and generosity, offering affordable rates at a time when I wasn’t earning a full-time income and relied on support payments, have been pivotal in my recovery. His patience and kindness gave me the safe space I needed to recoup and rebuild. Without it, I honestly don’t know where I might have ended up—or if I would have survived at all.

Living in the share house has also been an interesting cultural experience. Initially, there was a revolving door of tenants, each staying for a brief period, until around 2020 or 2021, when a non-English speaking Indian couple moved in. They are a lovely couple with incredible cooking, but the language barrier has presented its challenges, especially during my recovery when I haven’t quite been myself. Some amusing and occasionally frustrating incidents have included being locked out of the house regularly—at one point nearly 30 times in a single month—while I was in the backyard, taps frequently left dripping, and the entire house filling with smoke when they char capsicums directly on the hotplates. They’ve taken over the dining room with their Indian spices and food items, which now cover most of the dining table. For the first few years, I had to teach them how to use the bin system, as items were constantly being placed in the wrong bins. Despite these quirks, we’ve managed to coexist peacefully, and their presence has added an unexpected layer of richness to this chapter of my life.

Coco Soota: An Unlikely Guardian in My Darkest Days

At my lowest point, about a year after I had moved into the share house, one of the cats from a neighbouring property (they had four) began visiting my yard daily, curious about my presence. During that time, I spent many hours sitting on the deck, reading, still in a medicated haze—slow in both mind and body. The cat became more curious over time and eventually made daily visits to join me on the deck. One day, he brought his favourite toy over the fence into my yard. Though the neighbours retrieved it, he brought it back again, clearly deciding this was where he wanted to be.

Over time, he essentially moved onto the deck full-time. A few years later, I made a formal offer to purchase him from the neighbours, and he was officially transferred to me. His name is Coco Soota, and along with my birds, he has become one of my closest companions during this incredible journey. Coco’s affection and presence have been a constant source of comfort and strength through years of long, lonely days and nights. I truly don’t know how I would have coped without his companionship.

Facing our hardest challenges rather than running away from them is tough, but it builds character within us—resilience to handle responsibility, which in turn makes us reliable enough to handle recognition.

We each have different kinds of needs, and crafting our lives and goals in a way that enables us to meet those needs—and offer something toward the needs of others—is a satisfying and rewarding purpose to integrate into life. Going the extra mile requires more time, energy, and emotion, which can initially be a struggle to balance. However, once this approach gains momentum, it leads to exponential growth and benefits everyone involved.

Rebuilding from the Ashes: A New Foundation for the Future

In any undertaking, it’s vital to establish a thorough and comprehensive foundation before building upon it. This may slow the initial process, but it ensures more reliable and long-lasting results. Sometimes, it requires a counter-intuitive approach to gain understanding and wisdom where gaps exist before proceeding hastily, avoiding foundational faults that could undermine the entire development. I view each chapter of my life, whether externally perceived as good, bad, or ugly, as experience and insight that helps perfect the foundation I’m establishing.

Who I am now is who I’ve always been on the inside. Learning how to express ourselves in a confusing and often savage world takes time. It took me years to understand certain aspects of life before I could communicate effectively. Understanding tragedy provides insight into the depths of human experience, which is essential when placed in roles that influence societies, districts, and nations.

The scars, bruises, and internal carnage have shaped me in a positive way, though not before annihilating me. The good was on the other side of the death and uncertainty. If this transformation is true for me, it can be true for anyone. The end was only the beginning. My approaches may have been unconventional, eccentric, experimental, and nontraditional, but they were the desperate measures of a young boy searching for answers for a hurting world and his own soul. Thankfully, these experiences have paved the way for revolutionary frameworks, groundbreaking discoveries, and innovative approaches, which I look forward to sharing with the community, nation, and world as I return to full health and establish more effective spaces to operate alongside a growing team and network of aspirational architects.

Lessons from the Margins: Understanding, Healing, and Redefining Identity

Until you’ve become one of the most hated people, you cannot fully understand what some others endure. Life is an incredible teacher. We can let what was stolen from us define us, or we can use those experiences to create solutions and share them. Before this past decade, I understood success, self-control, and patience. What I didn’t understand was lawlessness, brokenness, despair, or the realities faced by the marginalised and outcast. This decade allowed me to walk in their shoes, not just to read or hear about it but to feel it firsthand. This perspective has been powerful and transformative.

The lack of medical treatment led to self-medicating, which created instabilities and social disdain for me within my community. This cascade led to a kind of death—a spiritual and emotional one. Living in survival mode alone for years, grappling with extreme anxiety and trauma, left me unhealed and suffering from PTSD. Survival mode is not a time for creativity or growth; it’s a time of running, fighting, and hiding. Processing my experiences, rehabilitating, and resocializing myself with the help of my animals took years. Animals have been incredible companions in this journey.

I’ve never subscribed to societal categories for sexuality. While humans often need to categorise everything, my development has been complex and slower than most. I’ve never slept with a female, not because I didn’t want to or never will, but because my sexual development has been unique. My sexual impulses have never been gender-based but connection-based—rooted in emotional depth and mutual understanding. As a teenager, I coined the term ‘Emosexual’ to describe this. For me, attraction is determined primarily by emotional connection, supported by physical chemistry. This perspective made me an ‘odd one out’ in social groups, particularly within the limited frameworks of religious expectations or excessive promiscuity.

Shaping the Future: Learning from Experience and Rebuilding Purpose

Instead of fitting into these predefined options, I looked at how people lived. I observed the successful, the marginalised, and the outcasts, seeking to understand social and health systems, their problems, and gaps. Over the decades, I felt taken advantage of by people across all groups I interacted with. Many believed second-hand stories about me, distorted by assumptions, projections, or embellishments, like a game of Chinese whispers. Instead of defending my reputation, I distanced myself and focused on researching and understanding culture. My aim has been to help shape it constructively for the future.

It’s 2025 now, and it’s been eight years since I packed up my career home of 13 years and all of my possessions into a storage shed, enduring an unstable life of moving from place to place, as well as periods of homelessness. I am still living in a share house at present, primarily because I am recovering and rehabilitating from my physical injuries and surgeries, while also reclaiming my purpose and vitality after trauma. As a result, I’m not yet earning an income sufficient to afford my own home. I am counting down the days until I’m in a position to retrieve my household possessions from storage and set them up in my own space, along with multimedia production facilities. A more suitable working environment would significantly enhance what I can achieve.

Many people see problems in the world and genuinely set out to help, only to find themselves trapped in the very systems they were trying to fix. This often silences their voices and buries their dreams as they fall through the cracks of the system. The models I’ve been working on take a different approach. They don’t condemn or judge those who stumble while trying to make a difference. Instead, they value their intentions and unique perspectives, focusing on empowering them to rise above setbacks and rejoin the effort with renewed strength.

From Turmoil to Transformation: A Vision for Constructive Change

My life’s journey has exposed me to significantly contrasting extremes, which were challenging to process but ultimately provided a more balanced view of life. Before my decade of disorder and chaos, I was highly attuned to my emotional spectrum and could regulate my emotions effortlessly. However, the impact of trauma, medications, and abuse left me unable to regulate my emotions, cry, or cope effectively. Without understanding or support for my situation, I felt wound up, frustrated, and isolated, receiving little empathy or compassion for my struggles.

This experience was lonely, rough on my soul, and something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Yet, it provided profound insights into the horrors of abandonment and the mental, emotional, and imaginative states that accompany it. While unpleasant, these experiences revealed powerful truths and understanding, which serve as guides for developing effective solutions and addressing present-day challenges. The models I’ve been working on are rooted in principle-based frameworks that integrate into every aspect of existence, including the political, religious, and economic sectors, which form the main pillars of society. As I attract like-minded individuals who share similar vision, we can begin showcasing these concepts and their potential.

My primary delay in presenting more personally stems from the physical health challenges and subsequent brain health issues I’ve faced over the past decade. Resolving these has required significant time and energy, but doing so has allowed me to realign my focus onto productive and creative efforts that extend beyond my personal concerns.

Building the Future: Innovation, Growth, and Purpose

During my most challenging times, I felt as though I was buried, out of sight and mind, and left behind. That feeling was emotionally excruciating and devastating. However, those pains forged the understanding, resilience, wisdom, and insight I have today. Such growth cannot be achieved without going through the perceived death of the soul.

Now, as I progress through recovery and undertake casual employment with 1494 2AY, along with occasional multimedia projects and client consultations, I am working to establish an audience for the profitable and beneficial products, services, frameworks, and operations I’ve developed. I plan to launch a 36-part series online course titled Tools We Need To Survive. The first theme, Confidence, is developed with input from personalities such as Benjamin Norris (Winner of Big Brother Australia 2012), my youngest sister, international fitness icon Stephanie Sanzo, as well as other media industry figures and characters from different walks of life. The course offers tools to transform self-doubt into unstoppable confidence, enabling people to live with clarity, purpose, and power.

Other areas I’ve developed frameworks for include talent management, multimedia production, marketing, content distribution, music production, fashion, and cultural architecture. Additionally, I’ve been working on concepts and plans to develop a local tourist beach at Lake Hume and a local theme park. I also aim to further develop the local motor racing scenes and circuits and invest in various aspects of preventative health frameworks and general health initiatives for the district, with the potential to expand these efforts nationally, which you can read more about on the vision page.

Shaping Culture, Bridging Perspectives, and Driving Transformation

One exciting initiative is Club GSM, an innovative ecosystem built on foundational principles, offering a dynamic space where diverse perspectives converge to drive transformation and sustainable progress across personal, professional, and planetary dimensions. Memberships will soon be made available, offering tailored opportunities for various members. More will be revealed as key dates arrive—I’m excited about its potential.

I’m establishing myself as a culture consultant locally and abroad. A culture consultant helps navigate cultural norms and practices, designing and reshaping cultural environments for businesses, communities, and societies. This involves decoding, designing, and navigating cultural nuances across human experience, enabling businesses to succeed globally while remaining relevant locally. It also assists individuals in reconciling personal identities within larger cultural systems and communities in building inclusive and sustainable cultural frameworks.

By addressing challenges like cultural misunderstandings, identity conflicts, and shifting values, a culture consultant fosters growth and harmony in interconnected environments. From aligning corporate values with global and local expectations to empowering individuals and advising nations on inclusive policies, the work integrates personal growth, community resilience, and societal transformation.

Our world has undergone significant changes over the past decade, and there is a need for hope, direction, clarity, and growth opportunities. My previous approaches, while unconventional and sometimes misunderstood, were focused on understanding issues from within. As I move forward, I’m determined to apply these lessons constructively to create meaningful and lasting change.

Learning from the Past, Building for the Future

The importance of looking back at our past is to grow from the lessons, not to get stuck in the guilt, shame, fear, or anxiety that it may stir up. Instead, we must process through it and share our discoveries with others. The past several decades have provided me with incredible opportunities to meet many of our leading community members, business leaders, and entrepreneurs, as well as trailblazers in various individual scenes ranging across the spectrum.

There are numerous names I could mention. For example, Steve Bowen, DJ, entertainer, and former Deputy Mayor of Albury, is an incredible asset to our district. He persists through any challenge, spreads hope, values constructive perspectives, and advocates for building a greater local tourism industry. He is a pillar of our community and much more to so many. Then there is Bob Harris, who has served the community for so many years at the SS&A Club, an extraordinary gentleman who has been around for decades. He knows the district well, understands its people, and has tirelessly invested in building the community, often going out of his way to ensure that no one falls through the cracks.

Cassie Aldridge, a colleague I had the pleasure of working with for many years at the Albury Media Centre, has now joined Wodonga Council. She is helping lead the way, advocating for regional improvements, and enriching our local entertainment sector alongside her husband, Tim McLaren. Similarly, Hannah Seymour, another long-time acquaintance, has also joined Wodonga Council. She is passionate about reinforcing the community across the region. I could name countless other longstanding and newly appointed individuals who are incredible assets to our community, but I’ll save that for future speeches.

A Path Reconciled, A Future Reimagined

Although the path of my development has taken peculiar turns, created confusion, and led to misunderstood intentions—as well as some undesirable or anti-social behaviours—it has produced significant results. It has given me the chance to reconcile parts of myself that needed understanding for me to progress successfully. In the coming decades, there will be opportunities to share my story with those I encounter and to heal some of our wounds from the past.

Despite the sometimes-rough path I have endured and, in some cases, instigated, I am proud of this district, its people, and their potential. While we might sometimes complain, I believe our growth potential is extraordinary. I firmly believe that this district will rise above the ordinary and achieve unprecedented milestones, spreading positive impacts across the nation and the planet.

I am exceedingly grateful to every individual who has invested time and energy into my life along the way. To those who have extended patience and understanding as I’ve been going through my period of rehabilitation, I extend my heartfelt thanks. I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or embarrassed during my unravelling, especially family, friends, and colleagues. I look forward to partnering with many local operations and organizations as we move into a new era, one with remarkable opportunities to build a lasting legacy. It is only a matter of time before our company’s products and services are established in the marketplace, generating both revenue and impactful results.

A Journey of Transformation: From Darkness to Purpose

Throughout life’s challenges, I’ve come to see the transformative power of principles grounded in love, integrity, and purpose. These principles fuel growth and healing, even in the face of resistance or pain. Societies often prioritize hierarchy, appearances, and fleeting gains, alienating those who need support the most. Yet the true path forward lies in creating frameworks that honour individuality, foster collaboration, and enable everyone to thrive—not through exclusion but through understanding and mutual respect. By facing personal and collective struggles, we unlock the potential for meaningful progress, enabling us to leave lasting contributions to our communities and the planet.

The journey hasn’t been easy. Systems of family, religion, and societal norms often impose limitations that stifle growth and creativity. I’ve experienced rejection, judgment, and isolation firsthand. But these trials have clarified my vision: to build something authentic and transformative. My mission isn’t to accumulate wealth or status but to create a company and culture that integrates people across boundaries, encouraging unity and purpose. While the road is long and the obstacles many, I am committed to aligning with life-giving principles that sustain and elevate humanity. This is a call to action for all of us to embrace our unique roles in shaping a better world.

Looking back at my life, I see how essential it is to process our past—not to dwell on guilt, shame, or fear, but to extract the lessons and share them with the world. The journey has been heavy, filled with light and shade, but it’s these contrasts that have shaped me. Through it all, I know my mother has said countless prayers for me, and while we haven’t always seen eye to eye, I am deeply grateful for the love and faith that has underpinned her intentions. I’m also profoundly thankful to our Creator for bringing me back from death to life—both physically and spiritually—allowing me to continue on this path of restoration and purpose.

The Lens of Perspective: Understanding, Conflict, and Growth

Perspective is a fascinating thing. A hundred people can witness the exact same event and yet perceive a hundred different versions of that shared reality. Our perspectives are often shaped by subjective experiences, creating a unique dynamic that can be challenging to navigate—especially with individuals who may not yet be aware of how this dynamic affects their interactions.

Take, for example, the dynamic between myself and my parents. From my perspective, while they did many things right, I often felt smothered by my mother, as if there was an ongoing power struggle. It felt like there was no room for me to fully exist in her view of things, and like there was little desire to take an active interest in my life and its developments. With my stepdad, I experienced an emotional and developmental disconnect that often left me feeling like an outcast in my own family, like I didn’t belong as myself. Over the years, the geographical distance between us has only deepened this sense of disconnect, making it rough to process how little we’re involved in each other’s lives anymore.

From my parents’ perspective, things might look entirely different. Perhaps they saw me as a challenging or difficult child. Maybe certain attributes or characteristics I inherited from my biological father didn’t fit comfortably within the dynamics of their idea of the family. It’s possible my expressions as a child were too much for them to handle or didn’t align with their core beliefs and values. Maybe I was perceived as ungrateful, troublesome, or problematic. I can’t speak for them, but I feel that over time, significant damage has been done to our relationship. That said, it is far from unsalvageable. Some aspects of our bond are mending and being reestablished, while others remain turbulent and lack stability.

Defying Limitations: Embracing Growth and Building the Future

Still, I refuse to let the areas in which I grew up deficient—through no fault or desire of my own—limit my potential, my influence, or my ability to become the best version of myself. I look forward to meeting the right individual and starting a family of my own.

As for my biological father, a Hungarian man I believe to be named Laslow, he was never part of my life, and the details about him remain a mystery to me. Perhaps one day I’ll meet someone willing to help me find him; I may even have half-siblings somewhere. My stepdad married my mum when I was four, and I served as the ring bearer at their wedding. Together, they raised me alongside my two younger sisters—one of whom has pursued numerous careers—and I am the proud uncle of six wonderful nieces and nephews. Our family reflects a rich blend of Australian, English, Hungarian, and Italian heritage, making me a culturally diverse individual.

As a child, I collected stamps, learned piano (unsuccessfully), and eventually took up the drums. By the time I was 18, I had launched a multimedia business that continues to serve clients to this day. Between 2001 and 2008, I wrote, recorded, and produced over 100 songs, collaborating with a talented local producer on some of the tracks, though they remain unreleased. Once I’m back in my own home and have a suitable multimedia studio, I look forward to exploring songwriting again.

In the past decade, my focus has been on understanding the planet’s biggest liabilities, developing insights for global leaders, and refining a powerful business engine framework. My goal has been to create a system capable of enduring immense pressures and delivering confident responses to even the most demanding challenges. There was a time when my personal life was as much a topic of gossip around the district as Robbie Williams’ life was on a global scale during the height of his career. Rumours spread wildly, blending truth and fiction into a fantastical mesh.

Rewriting Perception: From Media Influence to Cultural Transformation

Listening to old recordings from my radio days, I realize how much my approach—prioritizing entertainment and shock value—shaped public perceptions. Comments made in jest or for irony were often taken as fact, leaving me to reflect on how media shapes reality, how it shaped mine, and how it influenced the district.

Today, I see my life as a prime example of how a driven, compliant, and dedicated professional can become a societal liability due to inadequate healthcare and a lack of support. Physical pain and untreated trauma can derail even the most productive individuals. Yet, I am also a testament to hope. Those who fall can rise again, reclaiming purpose, and contributing to society’s growth. Our communities are full of untapped potential, waiting to be discovered and nurtured.

It is up to us to establish frameworks, facilities, and cultural systems that empower the disadvantaged to rise. By investing in people’s ability to deliver their best, we create collective growth and a better future. We must foster emerging cultural lines, refine existing ones, and remove outdated barriers that hinder progress. And we must reinforce the cultural values that sustain life, promote growth, and ensure stability.

There are countless incredible industry names, community members, and stories that I haven’t mentioned here—yet could—who have played integral roles in my journey. You are all part of it regardless, and I have no doubt that as we progress towards the incredible developments ahead, there will be a time and place for each and every suitable mention.

The journey has been long, but the lessons it has taught me are invaluable. The next chapter will be one of building, creating, and contributing—guided by the principles of love, integrity, and purpose. It is my mission to help reshape our cultural environments, ensuring every individual has the opportunity to thrive and make their unique mark on the world. Together, we can build a future that honours our past while embracing the infinite possibilities ahead.