Dear Friend, 

I don’t know where you are in your journey right now, but if you’re in a tough spot, I want you to know you’re not alone. I’ve been where you are, feeling like everything is too much to handle. I grew up without my dad, watched my biological mum endure abuse, and bounced between homes before finally being taken in by a family who showed me what love and stability could look like. I lost one of my best friends to suicide, a pain that still lives with me. Each of these moments shaped who I am today, though they often felt like they would break me.

When I was in high school, I didn’t even know what mental health was, let alone that I was struggling with it. My classroom teacher saw what I couldn’t and encouraged me to see the school counsellor. That small step set me on a path of learning to understand myself better. But it wasn’t easy—I used football and exercise as a way to escape what was really going on inside me. Over time, I realised that while exercise couldn’t fix everything, it played a crucial role in my healing. It gave me space to release tension, clear my mind, and reconnect with myself when everything felt overwhelming. Now, I use movement not to avoid my emotions but to process them, to ground myself, and to find strength.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that mental health doesn’t always look the way people expect. It comes in all forms, shapes, and sizes, and it can affect anyone—no matter how happy or put-together they might seem. It’s not something that just disappears, either. For me, it can stay silent, waiting for the right moment to creep back in. But I’ve also learned that it doesn’t have to define me. With the right tools, I’ve found ways to manage it and even turn it into a strength.

Some silver linings have come from this journey. I’ve discovered the power of gratitude and reflection—voice journaling helps me process my thoughts and emotions daily. I’ve learned that family doesn’t always have to be the one you’re born into; it can be the friends who truly have your back, the people who show up when you need them most. And I’ve realised that even in the darkest moments, there’s always a little bit of light. Hold onto that light. It grows.

If I could give my younger self some advice, it would be this: don’t use distractions to avoid your feelings—face them. Use exercise and movement to regulate your emotions, not to hide from them. Trust that your circumstances don’t define you. You don’t need a perfect family; you just need people who love you for who you are.

If you’re struggling, know that healing takes time. Be patient with yourself, and let the people who care about you in when you’re ready. They don’t need to have all the answers—they just need to be there. And remember, no matter how dark it feels right now, the light is waiting for you.
You’ve got this.

Trav