My parents came from Auckland and lived here for 50-something years. They never called themselves locals, but always said their children would be, as we were born and raised here, so this is and always will be home for me.
My earliest memory is paired with my mum’s retelling of it; she used to take me to Awanui School [where she taught for many years] with her, right from when I was 10 weeks old. Although I don’t remember that early on, I remember being around 4 years old and being led through the playground by other school kids, I have many happy memories there.
I always had a lot of fun throughout my childhood and teen years, growing up in Kaitāia, I was very lucky. My best friends today are still the girls who were my neighbours on Matthews Ave growing up. My biggest pride is my family unit – my husband and my children. They’re just good people, you know? They care about the world and people and family. And that’s all that matters to me. We may not be perfect, but we always try to do our best. I can look at my family with much pride.
I’ve always been passionate about the work I do in Human Resources and Compliance. One of my best bosses and mentors, Trevor Gray, put me onto the journey of HR which I’m really grateful for. Another great boss, Tunney McFadyen told me I should work for myself, but I wasn’t brave enough to take the leap. I was scared! You see, I’m not a risk-taker. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realised that it’s those risks that bring about the change you need in your life. If something compromises my ethics or integrity, or the environment I’m in doesn’t honour human rights and partnerships, I won’t hesitate to speak up or remove myself from that environment. That’s something I’d tell my younger self. If your beliefs aren’t being respected, walk away. Someone else, somewhere else, will appreciate you for who you are. I work for myself now, and I love it, and I treasure the relationships I’ve made along the way.
In the future I want to travel more; whether it’s travelling locally or internationally, I think travel opens your eyes in ways nothing else can. You meet new people, experience new cultures, and learn more about yourself and the world. I remember the first time I was invited to a national REAP conference and I missed out because I was afraid to fly. For years, I made excuses. But once I faced that fear, I never looked back – I would be first on the list for all future conferences! I believe life isn’t about the things that you have, but the experiences you get to live. I used to always drag my kids along to community events because I wanted them to experience things, it’s really important.
The most pivotal moment of my life came when I lost my dad and followed by my sister, Kim. Who even was I before that happened? I don’t remember. Loss changes you in a way that I can’t fully describe. It really changed the way I view life, and I’m always learning this and being reminded of it – but you really, genuinely try to stop sweating the small stuff. It just doesn’t matter anymore. There is no point. When you watch someone like my sister who wanted to live, would’ve given anything to live, who had four children and three grandchildren at 49 years old, and through no fault of her own got cancer and pass away. It really changes how you see things. I got stuck in the angry phase of grief for a long time, and it wasn’t until I did grief counselling that I was able to come out of that, I couldn’t recommend getting that external help enough.
There was so much going on around the time that my sister got diagnosed. My dad had passed away, my mum had already been diagnosed, and then my brother was diagnosed five months after Kim was. Kim passed in September of 2012, and then two months later my husband had to have life-saving open-heart surgery, and I was suddenly back in the hospital that my sister died in. It was a tough time.
It feels like a really depressing part of my story but it’s real – people don’t often talk about this kind of stuff because it feels awkward or bizarre, but it’s the truth. Once I passed the angry stage, humour is what got me through, maybe a bit of a warped sense of humour. Because if you don’t laugh, you pretty much would cry all the time and you know those that have passed on wouldn’t want you to be doing that.
I live knowing that life is so precious, and it’s too short to sweat the small stuff. My children are like that too; they appreciate sunsets and sunrises, the moon and the stars and the rainbows – all the things that are bigger than us that bring joy. I love that.
I’m so lucky that I have so many people in my life who are influential to me – my late sister, my Mum & Dad, my brother, my dear friends, my Matthews Ave girls that I grew up with, oh and my husband and my two children – I’m learning from them every second.
My mum used to say, “Will this matter in a year’s time?”, sometimes things feel really, really huge but if you stop, and think, is this going to still be important in a year’s time? It helps to put things into perspective. Above all, I just want people to always be kind. You never know what someone is going through.