From the age of four, I proudly declared I would become a kindergarten teacher—and after years of study, that dream came true. I didn’t spend long in the classroom, as my career led me into advocacy, supporting children with additional needs, helping educators deliver best practice and leadership roles. 
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These roles were deeply fulfilling. At the heart of my career was a simple but powerful question: How can I make a difference? I found meaning in supporting children, families, communities, and colleagues to grow, connect, and thrive.
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In 2024, my professional journey paused with the sudden and heartbreaking loss of our eldest son, Cooper, at just 25 years old. Life as I knew it changed forever. I stepped away from my work to be with my family and to honour Cooper’s life—his light—and to try to find a way forward through the darkness.
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What I didn’t expect was that, in grief, I would rediscover an old part of myself. I’ve loved writing since primary school. I started a school magazine in Grade 6 and even attended a TAFE writing course as a child. But like many dreams, that passion faded with the challenges of adolescence and the demands of adult life.
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Now, in this new chapter, it feels strangely fitting that all these worlds—my love for growing the minds of young children, my deep grief, my desire for connection, and my early love of writing—have come together.
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Writing has become a lifeline. A way to keep Cooper close. A way to process, reflect, and hopefully help others who are also navigating profound loss. While I still feel like a bit of an imposter calling myself an author, I’m proud to be here. I’m proud to share my story. And I’m honoured to help keep Cooper’s light shining.
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