Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would face homelessness?
I have always been highly ambitious, placing in the top 5 percent of the state for the HSC, then studying a Bachelor of Applied Science (Food and Nutrition) full time, while working two jobs and securing a position in food science – all before graduating.
By my early twenties, I was a homeowner and by my mid-twenties, I had climbed the corporate ladder to secure national and regional leadership roles in global food businesses.
I became a landlord several times over. By all accounts, I was thriving.
I believed then, as I do now, that we are limitless. We can achieve anything and everything we put our minds to.
But life, as I’ve learned, is unpredictable. It can change in ways you never expect.
Sudden shift
Becoming a first-time mum during the pandemic was emotional, marked by perinatal depression and anxiety. When I tried to return to the corporate world, I felt unseen and unsupported, lasting all of two hours. Confronted with what felt like serious discrimination, I made the difficult decision to leave my 20-year career, sell my investment property to cover legal fees, and file an adverse action case.
The next 10 months were a blur, but I remember a moment when I looked at my little girl, Indie, and asked myself, “What would I tell her to do if these things had happened to her?” At that moment, I knew that no one would ever take my power again. I did what I would have told my daughter to do: I stood up for myself and took control of my story.
I poured everything I had into a new venture. Having already launched Mumma Life is NOW and Kick Fear in the Butt, the first and second arm of what is now part of the Unlimited NOW Network social enterprise, I went all in on the third arm of my business, Little Paws Big Roars.
Using my scientific mind and lived experience with mental health challenges and bullying, I began developing resources and a community to help parents, carers, educators, and therapists support children through big emotions.
I began producing animations, audiobooks, and a personal development app. I published three children’s books and released a full range of products.
I took a calculated risk, walking away from my high-paying corporate leadership role to heavily invest in my passions, while still maintaining my financial security. Or so I thought. After an unexpected relationship breakdown with my partner and the father of my child, I found myself with limited funds, no place to stay, and a three-year-old daughter to care for.
A lesson hard learned
I guess you could say it was a perfect storm. I had a new start-up company, that in hindsight I overinvested in, and had no means to cover accommodation costs and bills.
While this might sound reckless, as a homeowner who was well ahead of mortgage repayments, I had carefully considered and planned the risk of investment at the time, and never anticipated my relationship breakdown or being unable to return to my home.
This was a tough lesson in impermanence. A wake-up call that homelessness can happen to anyone, at any time. We never really know what lies ahead. And while we shouldn’t get caught up in fear and anxiety, we need to acknowledge the fluidity of life. It’s a reminder to face life’s challenges with resilience and self-compassion.
A broken system
Having rented only once over 20 years ago, I had no recent rental history, a significant challenge as a single mum with a start-up, and no access to business funds in today’s housing market.
As a director of a company, albeit a start-up company whose funds had been spent, I was placed outside of the “typical” criteria to receive accommodation and government support to get me on my feet.
I learned firsthand the challenges of an outdated system that struggled to fit me into a box that didn’t fit my situation. I remember the trauma I faced, in tears, spending hours on the phone and sending emails to “fight” for support, from a system that I had personally injected significant amounts of money into for many years. But when I needed the support, the system wasn’t set up to provide for me.
I was in survival mode, focused on ensuring my daughter and I had a safe place to stay and food on the table. Each call felt like a battle to prove my worthiness for support. I spent hours on hold with government agencies, only to be met with vague answers or told to call back later. There were no call-back options, and the lack of communication between state and federal agencies compounded the frustration.
Often I would be jumping from one call to another, sometimes missing private number calls from government agencies, while I was on the phone to another agency. This meant having to call back and go through the full wait process again. This inefficiency not only wasted time but also heightened the anxiety of an already dire situation. Waiting for hours on hold while trying to manage a toddler’s big emotions in a car or a cramped motel room was nothing short of soul-crushing.
After 10 weeks of homelessness, I managed to secure a private rental just before Christmas, finally bringing an end to a long and challenging chapter. Throughout this time, I have been accessing temporary accommodation through Link2home with the support of wonderful organizations like Coast Shelter.
However, it wasn’t always smooth sailing. During this time, my support was ceded twice, which required me to once again self-advocate and represent under the Independent Tribunal to have support reinstated after an “independent review”. All of this rigmarole prevented me from moving forward and focusing on my business, as I continued to fight for basic human rights.
A system that overlooks the vulnerable
Most refuges were at capacity on The Central Coast NSW, so we were placed in fairly simple motels, with a very basic room where Indie and I often had to share a bed. Others facing homelessness were clustered into one section of the motel, which proved to be a challenge. I witnessed and overheard several abusive situations among patrons that required police intervention. I was scared. Often I didn’t feel safe.
There were typically no cooking facilities, and most rooms didn’t even have a microwave (or a communal microwave for that matter), making cooking even basic meals very challenging.
During this time, we often had two-minute noodles, some fruit, and other simple foods that didn’t require heating or intensive preparation. It’s something that is really overlooked, especially considering that children in their key developmental stages need more substantial meals and may find themselves staying in these accommodations.
There was also no means to do laundry. Twice a week, I would drive to my dad’s to wash and dry my clothes, which ended up being a three-hour process. What I had taken for granted for years became a huge task that had to be coordinated so that we had clean clothes.
The toll of constant uncertainty
We were placed in extended temporary accommodation, primarily because I had a child with me, which meant I was able to gain access to temporary accommodation beyond the typical 14 days. Although I am hugely grateful for the support, and not having to spend a night in the car, it was a highly disruptive and challenging time, being placed in a multitude of different accommodation locations throughout the coast.
Temporary accommodations were often short-term, and I had to reapply for extensions every few days. This meant packing up all our belongings, not knowing if we would be allowed to stay in the same place or be relocated to a completely different area.
On one occasion, I was placed at the far end of The Central Coast, requiring a 40-minute drive each way just to get my child to daycare.
The constant moving added to the stress and disrupted any semblance of routine. Indie, who was still attending daycare, became resilient and adaptable, helping me pack her toys and clothes as we prepared for yet another move. But I could see the toll it was taking on her and it broke my heart.
The homelessness cycle
I now understand, firsthand, the challenges of breaking free from the cycle of homelessness. I knew I needed to break free from temporary housing and find something more permanent, but my situation had me gridlocked. I was technically a homeowner but was unable to return to the former family home, leaving me homeless, with no rental history. I was also a single mum needing support from the government, which made trying to secure a rental, something already challenging enough in a housing crisis, almost impossible.
I was attending open homes where there were upwards of 20 groups of people. Even during open homes where I was the only prospective tenant, when I was honest about my situation I could see the judgment in the facial expressions of the real estate agents. On one occasion I had an agent falsely state to the Department of Housing that I hadn’t applied for the property or attended the open home, despite providing evidence otherwise. I once received an email that the landlord had found a more suitable tenant, over 10 days after I was declined.
This situation completely disgusted me, and if I wasn’t already stretched between self-advocating for support, being present for my daughter, and creating memories of our “adventures” as we moved from one location to the next, I would have had this formally investigated. I simply couldn’t fight all of the fights in what I can see now, is a broken system.
After many rejections, I rallied support from long-term friends, former colleagues, and real estate agents from my days as a landlord and homeowner. I gathered over 10 strong references to vouch for my character, created a video to share about me, and a PDF deck that showcased my former homes, and how I maintained them – all in an attempt to stand out from the crowd. Eventually, it worked and I was given a chance.
Finding hope and moving forward
I was so grateful when we secured our private rental just before Christmas. The home was sparse, but it was ours. We were together, and that was all that mattered. Despite the challenges I faced, I held onto hope. I channeled my energy into Little Paws Big Roars, creating tools and resources to help families navigate life’s difficulties. It gave me purpose and reminded me that even in the darkest moments, we can create something beautiful.
Today, I continue to build my business and give back to the community that supported me. As a social enterprise, we support organizations like Coast Shelter and other charities and not-for-profits that align with our vision. That’s why 50 per cent of our profits go back into supporting these vital causes.
This Christmas, I encourage you to join me in supporting Coast Shelter by donating to their Christmas Appeal, to ensure families in need experience joy and hope this holiday season.
I am a firm believer that there is always enough abundance to go around. No one should ever have to suffer – it is greed that leaves people lacking. This message is something I feel deeply about, especially as we teach our children, our future leaders, about the importance of generosity and giving back.
A call for compassion
My experience has shown me how easily someone can fall through the cracks. We need to remind one another not to judge one’s situation. We have no idea what others have faced, what they are dealing with, or how they ended up in their situation.
Too often we jump to conclusions, and want to put everyone in the same bucket … and that’s just not the case.
We need a system that treats people with dignity and compassion, one that acknowledges the complexities of individual situations with empathy and without judgment. Homelessness can happen to anyone, and we must approach it with kindness and understanding.
I share my story not to dwell on the past, but to draw attention to the shortcomings of homelessness support within Australia and advocate for change.
Life’s toughest moments have taught me that resilience, love, and connection are what truly matter. Together, we can drive meaningful reform and create a world where no one has to face these challenges alone.
Tammy Louise is the founder of Unlimited NOW Network and Little Paws Big Roars