"Grief taught me how to survive. Living again taught me how to feel free.” - Rebecca Ann

I've Lived a Little Blessed Life From a Young Age

Even early on, I knew something about myself that didn't follow the traditional script - I never wanted to be a biological parent. Not because I lacked love, but because I had plenty of it. I've always loved children, their energy and honesty. I just knew motherhood, in the conventional sense, wasn't my path.

That clarity shaped many of my life choices - and ultimately led me to a life I never planned, but deeply honour.

Why I Chose a Different Path to Motherhood

From a young age, I noticed how blended families could be complicated, especially for children. Even when adults did their best, kids often carried the emotional weight. I didn't want to step into something without awareness.

So when I became a step-parent, it felt like the right fit.

I loved deeply, showed up consistently, and trusted instincts I didn't even know I had. My nana used to ask me how I seemed to "just know" what to do with kids. I honestly didn't have an answer - I simply followed my heart.

Now my stepchildren are grown, with families of their own, and I'm proud of the role I played in their lives.

Meeting Les and Growing Up Together

I met Les when I was 21 and a half - still figuring out life, still finding myself.

In many ways, I grew up alongside him and his children. Together, we formed an imperfectly perfect little family unit that worked for us. Our marriage wasn't flawless, but it was deeply loving, grounded, and safe.

I miss the comfort of that partnership.

I miss having my person - someone to talk things through with, to problem-solve with, to face life alongside.

Losing My Husband at 44 Changed Everything

When your person dies, everything changes.

People say a part of you dies too - and they're right.

Les died of cancer four years ago, when I was 44. Young enough to still have a long life ahead of me, but old enough to understand what I had lost.

In those early days of grief, I couldn't imagine tomorrow. I could barely survive today. But I made him a promise - that I would keep living. That I wouldn't give up on life.

Some days, that mean doing the bare minimum: getting out of bed, making it, and pulling on my big girl pants. Not because I felt strong - but because staying still felt like disappearing.

Choosing to Live Again After Grief

Eventually, I stepped out of my grief bubble.

I realised that if I was lucky enough to still have life ahead of me, I didn't want to waste it. Slowly, gently, I began living again.

Before I met Les, I dreamed of travel and exploration. I was raised camping, fishing, and adventuring. Curiosity and movement were part of my DNA. But when Les and I built our life together, travel took a back seat.

He wasn't a traveller - but he always said, "Wherever you want to go, I'll follow."

Now, in a quiet way, it feels like he's still saying that.

Letting Go, Downsizing, and Starting Life 2.0

This past year marked a turning point.

I rented out the house - something I never imagined doing. Letting others live in a space filled with memories was emotional, but also freeing. I have wonderful tenants who care for it, and I feel peace knowing it was the right decision.

I now live and travel in my small motorhome, learning what life looks like in a smaller space. Ziggy and I are finding our rhythm. Right now, I'm based in North Queensland during the wet season, using it as a grounding point while I sort work and wait for clearer skies.

When the weather shifts, I'll head off again - slowly. Short trips at first. Then more.

I don't need a full plan. Just the next step.

What Loss Has Taught Me About Life

Four years ago, I was in the darkest place of my life.

Today, I can feel happiness again - and that might be one of my greatest achievements.

Loss has taught me that life doesn't magically move on - you do. And only after you've felt everything: the good, the bad, and the ugly. We're wired to feel it all. None of it is wasted.

As I get older, I feel deeply grateful.

For love.

For loss.

For the life still unfolding.

Life has been messy, painful, beautiful - and absolutely worth living.

And I don't regret a single thing.