It’s time to speak

I still remember the physical pain I felt as a young girl when I left my mum even for a moment. It started as a big lump in the middle of my chest, it rose to my throat and my head became light as the hot tears would roll down my face.

I cannot put my finger on exactly why life was like that. I had a carefree childhood, two parents, a nice home, everything a kid could want. My mum told me it was because I had a shy, gentle nature and maybe that’s exactly what it was.

Still, it wasn’t something that I could seem to shake, and in regional Australia in the early 1980s you…