And, so it was for thousands upon thousands of young children who like myself, would come to be known as the Stolen Generations; the official term used for aboriginal children forcibly removed from their families between 1883 – 1969. The innocent lives of children, shattered, exposed, vulnerable and raw, at the mercy of the powers that be. A government with barely a thought or concern for the lifelong ramifications they’d imposed on children who were left to cope with no family, no roots, and no identity!
I was born at La Perouse 13 February 1952…
About Judi
I’m Judi — a woman who lived a long time in silence before I learned how to speak in my own voice.
For years, I carried experiences I didn’t know how to name. I did what many people do — I held myself together, stayed busy, kept moving, and hoped life would make sense if I didn’t look too closely.
On the outside, everything looked steady.
On the inside, I was surviving — not living.
I didn’t arrive at change gently — I was pushed there.
Life backed me into a corner the way it does for many people: you break, or you stand.
When my husband’s world began to fall apart, I realised I could no longer stay silent or pretend I was fine.
If you’ve ever been forced into a moment like that, I understand.
That moment didn’t fix anything —
but it made survival a choice I was willing to fight for.
Writing became my way to breathe.
My book, When Time Means Nothing, wasn’t written to impress anyone — it was a lifeline. A way to understand myself, protect my marriage, and try to build something honest out of the pieces I’d been holding.
I believe in gentleness — not because life has been gentle, but because strength doesn’t need to shout.
I believe in truth — not as a weapon, but as a kind of freedom.
And I believe in calm spaces — especially for people who have carried more than others can see.
This website, my newsletter, and the community that’s growing around it are all rooted in one simple hope:
You don’t have to face everything alone.
You can move at your own pace.
You can take what you need.
You can breathe without asking permission.
> You don’t need a net when you’ve become the ground.
Thank you for being here.
If you want to read, reflect, or walk beside another human being who understands what it means to start again — I’m here too.
