Fiercely ME

By Stephanie Rowe

In her self-published memoir, Stephanie narrates her remarkable journey through childhood, adolescence, and early-adult life with parents who struggled with addiction and poverty. She describes her fight to survive and reveals her growing understanding of the role that

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephanie Rowe
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9780645769319

Book preview

Reflection_Looking_Back_at_You_Front_only_978-0-6457693-1-9.jpg

Fiercely

ME

A Memoir by

STEPHANIE ROWE

Fiercely Me; A Memoir by Stephanie Rowe

A candid and inspiring journey about self-discovery and perseverance

©Author: Stephanie Rowe, Year 2023

Website: https://www.mrsrowe.org/

Facebook: Mrs Rowe Author

Instagram: Mrs_Rowe_Author

TikTok: Mrs_Rowe_Author Stephannierowe

The moral rights of Stephanie Rowe to be identified as the author of this work have been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Act 1968.

First published in Australia 2023 by Stephanie Louise Rowe

www.mrsrowe.org

ISBN: 978-0-6457693-1-9

Any opinions expressed in this work are exclusively those of the author.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Disclaimer

All the information, techniques, skills, and concepts contained within this publication are of the nature of general comment only and are not in any way recommended as individual advice. The intent is to offer a variety of information to provide a wider range of choices now and in the future, recognizing that we all have widely diverse circumstances and viewpoints. Should any reader choose to make use of the information herein, this is their decision, and the author and publisher do not assume any responsibilities whatsoever under any conditions or circumstances. The author does not take responsibility for the business, financial, personal or other success, results or fulfillment upon the readers’ decision to use this information. It is recommended that the reader obtain their own independent advice.

Fiercely

ME

A Memoir by

STEPHANIE ROWE

A candid & inspiring journey about

self-discovery and perseverance

A note from the author

to the reader

I would like to thank you for purchasing a book from a self-published author, your purchase assists artists and writers to continue doing what they love. I appreciate your purchase and do not take it lightly; thank you.

I am from Australia and have grown up in a country where our education system teaches us to spell certain words differently to other English-speaking countries, so when reading this book, depending on where you live, you might come across some words that look a little funny to you. That’s because us Australians have our own quirky way of spelling. As they say, it takes all kinds in this world, so please just use your imagination, and change the s to z, and so on. I am sure you will be fine.

I’d also like to request that you take a moment to rate and review my book. Like many authors, we survive on praise from our readers, and without those positive reviews, it becomes difficult to drag ourselves out of bed every morning to sit behind the computer keyboard for unending hours, slaving away.

By granting this self-published book a delightful four or five-star rating, you will be assisting in its success. Similarly, leave a comment if you’d like, even if it is a single word, like ‘outstanding’. If you would like to share your stories or feelings about my book, please feel free to reach out via the email provided below. I would love to hear from you.

If you’ve found a mistake, please let me know via: [e-mail]. My editors and I are only human, and we do miss the occasional incorrect word selection or comma placement.

If you find this work is not to your liking or you didn’t enjoy the book, let me know via the same e-mail address. I understand that everybody is different and has different likes and expectations. Please remember, public feedback can make or break a book. All I ask is that you consider the impact of your review on my book. If you would like to share your thoughts with me, feel free send them to the email address above rather than publicly leaving a negative review.

Thank you to my husband for your unwavering support, help, patience, and love. To all my friends who have loved me without hesitation, unconditionally and fiercely—I love you. To my family who I love and have let go of all the things that have happened and forgave. My family have forged the creation I am today, without you I would not be the person I am. This book reflects taking back my own story and breaking cycles.

I would like to thank and acknowledge everyone who assisted in making my dream of publishing my memoir into reality.

Masterful editor: Samuel Boyce

Photographer of front cover photo: Jill Kerswill

Graphic designer of cover: Fiaz Ahmed

E: [e-mail]

Yours faithfully, with much love,

The passionate Australian from the bottom of the globe.

CONTENTS

Introduction 9

Part 1: Marks the Beginning of Something 15

1. Travelling Around Australia in a Bus 24

2. The Mirage in the Desert 27

3. Bus Broke Down in the Middle of the Desert 32

4. Living on an Island 39

5. The Misadventures of a Father and Daughter 42

6. Getting Lost in the Wilderness 47

7. Go-Karting with Colleagues 56

Part 2: Where Are You From? 64

8. 10-Pound Pom 65

9. Farming in North Queensland 72

10. Spanish, German and Irish Heritage 77

Part 3: Learning How to Fiercely Back Myself 87

11. Learning to Defend Myself 88

12. Trajectory 95

13. Starting Out 107

14. Perception of a Different Life 110

Part 4: Life as a Young Adult 117

15. Depression and Learning New Skills 118

16. Bringing a Festival to Life 128

17. Seeing Australia as a Young Adult 147

18. Brunswick, Melbourne 153

19. Adventures of Tasmania 156

Part 5: The Parts Behind the Smile 168

20. The Concept of Healing 174

21. Repressed Memory, A Special Trick my Mind Can Do 180

22. Sweep it Under the Rug 214

Part 6: Love 217

23. Deprivation of Love 220

24. Self-Reflection 224

25. Learning to Love Myself 231

26. My Reflection in the Mirror 234

27. Loneliness and Finding External Love 241

Part 7: Working for The Man 248

28. Success: The Meaning and Contradictions 249

29. Developing and Learning About Myself 263

30. Leveling Up 272

31. Building Trust and Championing Others 278

Part 8: What is Next? 283

INTRODUCTION

One of the hardest things I have ever done is to allow myself to be vulnerable. The vulnerability that permeates this book is a testament to my unwavering dedication and a direct relation to deep internal debate with myself, arriving at a place where I felt courage in baring my soul to the world. Within these pages, I have expressed parts of myself that I didn’t want to see manifested within me, as you, my reader, will witness.

I have been wounded, I am vulnerable, I am caring, I am strong, I am a force to be reckoned with, I am disruptive, I am loving, I am fierce, I am opinionated, I am fiercely independent, I am an empath, I am compassionate, I am so incredibly sassy, and yes, I am hysterically myself. I own each part of who I am. Stand aside, I have now taken my power back. Nothing will ever stop me from walking into my destiny.

I have written this book for many reasons. I will share some of them with you. Fiercely ME is written through the medium of storytelling as if I were sitting around a fire, sharing my life with you. Storytelling is the oldest form of sharing history. For hundreds of years, humans have shared stories with each other to pass on wisdom and knowledge across generations. It is a technique I have consciously used in writing this book for you and I hope you enjoy the way I write my life’s stories.

Although it pains me to say it, parts of my life have been distressing, and it’s reasonable for people to be disturbed by these details. I have reached a point in my life where I can now lift the carpet and show you what is underneath, to share things that no one wanted me to talk about or make public. My past is filled with struggles and challenges which have shaped me into the woman I am today. Any discomfort you might feel while reading about these details is an indication that sharing such things is important. Although it’s uncomfortable, sharing the tough parts of our life’s stories can lead to positive growth and development.

Therefore, I have written this book for the reader to give them the opportunity to relate to elements of this account. I also wanted to share my story with people to learn from and use it as knowledge sharing.

For anyone who didn’t feel seen or heard and who can relate to being left out or bullied, I want you to know that you are not alone.

Through my demonstration of strength by opening up about sexual and other forms of abuse, I aspire to spark a wave of change that motivates others to speak out as well. Our collective experiences have subtle differences, but they still share a common thread. The opportunity for change can be the catalyst needed to break the conditioning that keeps people from speaking out and being taken seriously.

Creating a society that ensures the safety and well-being of every human being, including children, is vital in the times ahead. The more we develop and educate ourselves as a society and a race, the more we equip ourselves to confront change and shape a more positive future for the upcoming generations. I think only through sitting in discomfort are we able to give ourselves the opportunity to develop.

I want the reader to know that hardships can be experienced and be survived. The ability to enjoy life and flourish is possible. This book is a testament to being believed. This is my story about my life, my experiences, and how I felt living through them. You, too, can flourish; even if today you don’t think you can, you might tomorrow.

As for me, I was born into a world I wouldn’t have chosen. But once we are here, we can either live or survive, and I have done both. We have only one choice, so I did what the most of us do—I made the most of it.

As the eldest of five children, poverty is still present in my parents’ lives. My upbringing differed greatly from my current life because I worked hard to make that happen. Now, I have a fruitful career, and I earn enough to pay my bills, which brings me happiness. But not everyone has been as lucky as me, and I do not take that for granted.

My aim is to reclaim my story’s narrative and ownership, as many individuals have attempted to take it away from me. This book is my legacy to myself, and it will survive longer than I will. It documents what I have survived and what I turned my life into. I share insights into the depths of desperation, but also finding love and cherished friendships. You, too, can love yourself through learning to appreciate yourself and share your life with others.

I love fiercely and unconditionally. My heart has been broken a few times, but it has also been filled with love. Walking through life, truly experiencing its wonders, is a journey I have chosen. Life is invigorating, like the first days of summer; you can smell the jasmine as the wind blows against your face. This world has changed me in the most poetically and beautiful ways, and I have learned that genuine connection with your fellow human being is the most enchanting part of being alive.

When I finished writing the initial manuscript that was to become Fiercely ME, as life does, it throws something at you that is very difficult to process and is very painful to deal with.

I had finished my book, and it was off at the editor being edited. The joy that I had felt knowing I had finished my memoir was overwhelming. I had accomplished a personal goal, one which I had had my entire life. I sat back and felt how remarkable this personal achievement was. I was bursting with positive feelings of accomplishment. I had achieved something very dear to my heart.

I was eagerly waiting for the edited book, but on the day I was to receive it, I found out that it hadn’t been edited owing to a variety of obstacles the editor had faced. I experienced an unprecedented level of devastation and was upset. I was enraged. I truly felt like I had failed.

The stories started, and the negative thoughts began swirling around in my mind: the self-talk, the inner critic saying, ‘No one would buy Fiercely ME!’ ‘Who do you think you are writing a book about your life?’. I thought it might be the universe telling me to abandon pushing towards getting the book published.

Since then, I’ve accepted that publishing my story in a book will come with a high price tag. I have also accepted the enormous emotional and creative toll of pouring myself onto the page to self-publish. People will undoubtedly have opinions about my writing. I will have to accept this is a part of the process of releasing such vulnerable aspects of oneself to the world. To face the reality of vulnerability, to share my story, and to bare the most intimate parts of my soul to the world is a part of being an author.

I am now in a place where if people buy the book, read it, and think it is good or feel connected with the writing, this will bring immense joy to my heart. I have emotionally reached a place where I feel content. Life is about possibility. I never know what life has in store for me. That is all part of the ride that is life. My life has been, and will continue to be, filled with chance. It could go either way.

Upon reflection, if I have learned one thing from my life, it is that I have faced many challenges and have overcome them. I have succeeded in areas in which people thought I wouldn’t succeed. I stand tall, like a poppy, as I have for most of my life. People have found it hard to understand me because of my vivacious personality, my inner drive to succeed, and my ambitious nature. This book, in my eyes, is just another one of my ideas; a goal I have held dear to my heart, which I have now successfully accomplished.

I now realise that the book didn’t get published when I wanted it to for many reasons. The main reason was because it wasn’t finished. I had to be honest with myself; when I didn’t get the draft back from the editor, deep down, I knew I had more to say. I knew I had to let go of everyone’s opinion of this book and turn inward to express my brutal honesty derived directly from the heart.

Something happened to me recently: I was very sick because of a few unforeseen circumstances, and I found out I had a cyst in the middle of my brain. This news shook me to my core. I was petrified. I had to relinquish all control and realise that I couldn’t fix this problem. My body was turning on me.

Through some inner turmoil, I realised that life is fleeting and that if I died or had a seizure resulting in the loss of my body function preventing me from writing anymore, I wouldn’t be happy with where I had ‘finished’ the book. I have now written my story the way I want to write it and to share what is deep inside of me. So, although this book has been delayed, I am happy about it now and I know it will be worth the wait.

I will ask you, the reader, to please share this book: tell somebody about it or buy it as a present for friends or family. I am genuinely asking you to help me by spreading the word about it to others. Grassroots-style self-publishing requires selfless promotion and the help of others to support independent authors along the way. I hope my story keeps you company.

PART 1

MARKS THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING

I sit in the car and look at the sleepy street lined with white fences and friendly houses, the evergreen overhanging the familiar street corner. So many times, I have driven down this cul-de-sac to the house my parents brought me home to when I was born. So many times, I have sat wondering what my life would be like if my parents were different, if I were understood and welcomed into this world, and had access to an education that enabled me to thrive, to have opportunities I didn’t have to fight for, and access to a support network.

I have left my twenties and entered my thirties. The feeling of not being so insecure is invigorating. As I walk towards what I can achieve, I feel my worries slipping away. My ambition is stronger than it has ever been. A deep-rooted desire to help people fills my body. I have many skills that can aid others on their journey through life, but not in the large impactful way I want to.

Instead, I make a lot of money for companies that already have a lot of money. I seem to be ahead of the times in the way I approach business. Either that or the system we live under doesn’t see logic or proficiency as a viable way of running a business. Only through the prospect of a loss of profit does a company really need me. Facing bankruptcy or a sell-off forces management to change the way they do business.

Countering my inner drive is the reality of financial freedom. The sight of endless possibilities and opportunities without the constraints of monetary pressure was not something I experienced for three quarters of my life. Like sharks in the water, nipping at my feet, as I frantically swim towards survival. To be in a place where I can consistently pay my bills on time. Helping friends and family through sharing financial knowledge gives me a feeling of achievement.

Let me tell you a little about myself. Melbourne was my home for four years. I’ve called four states home and have travelled more of Australia than most Australians my age. My free spirit leads me to have a genuine desire to experience and understand how others live. I think, at some point, my ancestors must have been Irish travellers. I understand the desire to move is in my blood.

My attempts to settle down by getting married were successful, but buying a house was unsuccessful. Realising that we weren’t supposed to buy a house and attempt a life that didn’t fulfil our souls, i.e. living differently, appealed to us.

A drive to come home to my birth city, Brisbane—where the sun warms you from the inside out, the feeling of being able to frolic outside throughout the year—was appealing. I wanted to feel familiarity again, the feeling of being home. So, I packed up everything and moved interstate from Melbourne. Turmoil surrounded this move; I struggled with mental health and did not understand what was happening to me. I would soon realise in the next year what was truly happening. When I left Melbourne, my relationship with my brother became strained, and I still mourn that loss today.

I was the cornerstone that held my family together in this life. When I started unravelling, I was no longer able to sustain the façade I had worked so tirelessly to fabricate, one that I had so valiantly kept for my survival. I started to feel the ground crumbling beneath my feet. I could no longer hold on, and the people I turned to couldn’t help.

I stood my ground on domestic violence and fought for it to be extinguished within my family. This, coupled with my deteriorating mental health, created a perfect potion for disaster. I was abandoned by my brother. Turning to my familiarity with life, I moved, and with all the responsibility—abandoned by my blood family to carry on—I went home, back to Brisbane.

I did not know what would be waiting for me when I returned to my birthplace. Once I had arrived, I realised I was certainly meant to be back. The reason for my arrival would soon be known to me in a few months’ time.

I fell back to where I was exposed to the underbelly of a life lived before; housing commission. Being thrown back into that world, I abruptly realised how far I had come. Being surrounded by the most demoralised people, their survival depending on some form of substance. The staircase to the unit I was staying at while I got myself back on my feet was covered with litter, faeces, and syringes. I felt the heaviness of the unit block as I woke up and went to sleep, like a spiralling dream I couldn’t escape, seeing glimpses in the screen door of women’s faces shuffling past, trying to turn tricks for the next hit, the stench of urine permeating my senses, people knocking on the door day and night two doors down, and relentless scurrying down the corridor.

Walking to my new job each day, I reminded myself of what I had—the accomplishments of more than most have—while being jerked back to reality upon seeing the homeless sleeping on benches. I would walk into a brand-new building filled with clean, organised, straight desks with matching chairs.

I realised I could get out quicker if I made some calls to borrow money.

I lasted three and a half weeks in the housing commission block before I walked into my new rental. What a great motivator it was. I spent four years in the unit, and so many fond memories were made and stored for later years. Norman Park unit was the place I brought my fractured mind.

Thinking I couldn’t crumble any further, I decided to forge forward to create a life filled with warmth, homeliness and love, establishing friendships, and so desperately wanting a community to barricade me from my internal pain.

Upon fostering a home and turning it into my sanctuary filled with plants, my mission was to walk into my unit each day from work and feel relaxed, to feel peace. I fell in love with my unit. The longer I stayed, the more I loved it. It was mine. I found it, paid for it, turned it into a home and maintained it.

In my eyes, a major factor of success was being able to pay all my bills and rent on time. I could buy fresh produce if I chose to. I had the money to buy meat and seafood. If my car (a Moped; I sold my car and bought a Moped) broke down, I would have savings to fix it. If I was sick, I would have the money to buy medication. These are examples of things I struggled with over my life, at different times of my life, when I didn’t have the money. I know others also struggle with these things as well. I say this to my husband constantly because we see the world differently. We are successful because we can live without financial pressures. This means so much to me; it gives me the freedom to flourish.

Moving from the housing commission into my own rental flat gave me an opportunity for a new beginning. The flat was a two-bedroom, two-bathroom place. It was a ground flat that had a sweeping balcony, which connected to a beautiful sanctuary at the back, with palm trees hanging over the retainer wall. It was my sub-tropical paradise. I enjoyed every moment. I did not take it for granted.

I lived an enjoyable year in Norman Park before the blocked memories reconnected within my brain. My path was always going to end up there, like a wicked destiny that returned me to the place where it all happened. Here, I was forced to face the dark past my mind had so cleverly hidden away to protect me for my survival. Driving down familiar childhood streets, the houses lined like shots fired straight back from my memory.

It was a dark night of events that I was forced to return to. I had lost so much I could easily fall into a concoction of self-pity laced with disaster. Instead, I just chose to lose my mind every so often and hope I would come back stronger.

The trauma of my life still cloaks me like a heavy scent of psychosis. It is never far away.

The flashing sun that peeks through the gaps in the fence still haunts me. I refuse to go under Queenslander houses now. (Queenslander homes are renowned for their unique architectural feature of being elevated on stilts, serving as a protective measure against frequent flooding. It is also common for people to use slats of wood with sizeable gaps, which not only allows sunlight to enter but also provides storage opportunities underneath the houses). The slats under Queenslander homes evoke a strong sense of fear within me, stemming from the traumatic experience of the first abuse that occurred in this location. Consequently, the burden of my memory still strangles me into panic.

I let myself daydream, allowing my imagination to take over as I watch my younger self play in the front yard. I experience a flashback of the tricycle and my large, effervescent smile taking up the lives of my parents. As I allow myself to drift back, images, like photos, flash through my