It came as a whisper – subtly yet undeniably.

There was a time when I felt small, like I didn’t matter, I felt as if I was screaming at the top of my lungs, yet no words came out. I existed, but quietly – taking up as little space as possible, unsure whether my voice or my needs were allowed to be there at all.

My first few moments in this world were filled with trauma. Those first moments became the foundation for years of experiences I didn’t have language for but felt deeply in my body and my identity.

I have Cerebral Palsy, and yet I didn’t know about it until I was 9. Oddly, though, I sensed a difference. I craved to fit in, be like every other kid in the classroom. When I was included, I still felt like the odd one out – always following, always working harder just to keep up. Like everyone’s little sister.

Teachers would write, saying I’m doing things that are 'insurmountable' but truthfully, I was just living my life, getting on with things.

Sport became a safe haven for me – swimming, skiing, athletics – these spaces felt safe and made sense. I felt seen and acknowledged for effort and progress. My body wasn’t something to hide or explain; it was something I could trust.

Yet the tension between these two identities lingered, and I ignored it. Ignored pain. Ignored fatigue. Ignored the quiet signals my body was sending. So I learned to stay quiet – even when my body was asking for more. Even when I wanted to let people in, there was an invisible wall between my symptoms and the outside world.

Another university experience, alongside persistent pain, intensified this disconnect. Deakin, however, responded differently. They listened. They believed me. They made me feel safe and supported.

Eventually, I chose to take a leap of faith – I let doctors and allied health professionals in. I trusted my gut and acknowledged that I needed help. When I did, I finally felt heard. Seen. Believed. Like I was allowed to take up space.

To anyone struggling: you don’t need permission, proof, or a label – and you don’t have to do it alone. Trusting your gut and advocating for yourself is both power and freedom. You deserve and have every right to be heard and seen.

– Anonymous

Conversations about mental health and mental illness can sometimes be difficult, and reading about other people going through the same things as you might be confronting. If you need to talk, reach out to our counselling team.