From Mumma Bear to Mental Health Advocate: Why My Sister Inspires Me Every Day

The universe has a funny way of giving us what we need, even when we don’t see it at the time. Back in 2017, my world collapsed. One moment I thought I was strong, unstoppable, carrying the weight of life on my shoulders like I’d always done. The next, I was staring down a diagnosis of severe heart failure with left ventricular dysfunction. My body betrayed me, my life hung in the balance, and I was forced to face my own mortality head-on.

Years later, it happened again. Autoimmune pancreatitis. Septic shock. ICU. I remember Ryan (my partner) and my sister telling me the words I still can’t shake: the doctors had given me just a fifty–fifty chance of surviving. Flip a coin—that’s what my life had come down to. Weeks in intensive care blurred into one another. Tubes, machines, sterile white walls, the endless beeping of monitors. Every breath was a fight. Every morning I opened my eyes was a miracle.

And yet, in the middle of that storm, I clung to one thought: stay alive long enough to see the people I love thrive.

Life was different. My health was fragile. My body carried the weight of illness, medication, and despair.

I stepped away from my mainstream corporate job, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. And while that decision felt like failure at the time, the universe was quietly working in the background. What it gave me in return was something I could never have planned for—time.  Time to build my own corporation, sure, but more importantly, time with my sister Tammy and her kids. I suddenly had the chance to do school drop-offs, help out when she needed, and just be present in ways I’d never been able to before. And in that time, I witnessed something extraordinary.

For almost two decades, Tammy has been the backbone of her family. A mumma bear in every sense of the word—fierce, protective, loving, and selfless. She carried five kids (and two beautiful souls departed) on her shoulders, raised them with grit and grace, and gave up parts of herself so they could have everything they needed. That alone is enough to call her a hero. But Tammy wasn’t finished. Beneath the daily grind, a quiet fire had been burning inside her for years.

And I had the privilege to see that fire catch alight.

Tammy went back to study. She walked into her placement with the same determination she’s always had, but this time, she was building a future for herself as well. I watched her flourish, watched her find a new version of herself beyond “Mum.” And when her placement ended, the world didn’t just pat her on the back—it opened a door. She walked out with a job in mental health. And she’s not stopping there. She’s already dreaming bigger, planning more study, determined to help as many people as she can.

There were messy, chaotic moments along the way too. The kids would sometimes look at me and ask, “Where’s Mum? I Miss Her?” And I’d tell them straight: “Who fucking cares where Mum is, she’s on a new path now, a new chapter. Our job is to support her you hear me. So clean the fucking house, do your chores, and when she walks through that door, tell her how much you love her and how proud you are.” Because that’s what she deserved.

One night Tammy called me in tears, saying she couldn’t do this anymore—that it was all too much. I could hear the weight in her voice. I could feel the years of sacrifice pressing down on her. And I wasn’t about to let her give up. I told her she had to keep going, that she was stronger than she knew. The next day after school pick up I marched those little fuckers to the table and made them write, two hundred times: “I will not make Mum cry ever again.” It wasn’t about the punishment—it was about making sure they understood the power of their words, the depth of her love, and the respect she deserved.

Moments like that are etched into my heart because they show what this journey really looked like. It wasn’t easy. It was raw, it was messy, it was full of tears and late-night phone calls. But it was also full of growth, resilience, and love.

For me, it’s not just inspiring — it’s deeply personal. Tammy has seen me at my lowest, right back to 2017 when I was first diagnosed with severe heart failure and slipped into depression. She’s watched me ride the waves of that darkness — the silence, the breakdowns, the moments where I wasn’t sure I could keep going and wanted to kill myself. She saw me wrestle with the stigma of admitting I needed help, especially as a PNG and Torres Strait Islander man who was raised to believe that showing weakness wasn’t an option.

Over the years, Tammy saw the cracks that I tried so hard to hide. She saw me fight my way back, learning that depression isn’t weakness, that speaking up and taking medication isn’t shameful — it’s survival. And in some ways, I like to think my journey planted a seed. Maybe it helped shape the chapter she’s writing now in mental health. Because while I was struggling to make sense of my own battles, Tammy was quietly preparing to help others with theirs.

And now here she is: flourishing in a new career, determined to study further, and using her lived experience — as a mother, a carer, a woman who has seen the toll mental health takes on the people closest to her — to change lives.

Tammy’s story is more than just a career change. It’s proof that it’s never too late to reinvent yourself, to take everything you’ve lived through—the sacrifice, the hardship, the love—and turn it into a force that heals others. She has shown her kids, her family, and everyone around her that resilience doesn’t mean carrying pain in silence. It means finding a way to turn that pain into purpose.

I couldn’t be prouder of her.

Recently, even TAFE Queensland wanted to share Tammy’s story — a piece written to inspire other mums out there who might be wondering if it’s too late to start again. If you want to read more about her journey, click here. Or better yet, please share this story with your friends and family who could use a reminder that the struggle is real, but it’s also worth it. Because Tammy is living proof that no matter how heavy life feels, it’s never too late to rise.

Tammy, if you’re reading this, know this: you are my inspiration. You remind me every single day that strength isn’t just about surviving—it’s about thriving. You’ve spent years lifting others up, and now it’s your turn to rise. The world needs your light, your heart, your story. And I am beyond grateful that I get to stand beside you, not just as your brother, but as your biggest fan.

#GetItGurl #FuckingSlay