Hi, I’m Ree.

I’m a single working mum to two incredible boys — one in primary school, one in high school — and we live in South Brisbane.

Three years ago, I made the big decision to move us away from our hometown and our entire support network because I was offered a career opportunity that had real upsides for my kids. It was scary, but it felt right.

All three of us have ADHD. At the beginning of last year, my youngest was diagnosed with severe anxiety with tactile sensory needs. He needs to be physically touching the person he feels safe with. That person is me.

I went from working full-time as a poultry farmhand to part-time so I could be available for him. It was tight financially, but manageable. We were making it work.

Around that time, I started dating my neighbour who became my friend, then my boyfriend. By July last year, the four of us moved into a rental together.

By December 2025, my youngest was thriving. He was engaging in school again, making friends, learning, smiling. It felt like things were finally stabilising.

My job, however, was becoming more chaotic. The roster demands weren’t aligning with being the only regulated nervous system in the house.

A few days before New Year, my boyfriend and I had our final argument. Within two days, he moved out. The breaking point was this: he told me he didn’t love my children and didn’t even like them as people.

So now he’s gone physically.

And financially.

I’m currently paying $1,500 per fortnight in rent, earning about $2,200 per fortnight in wages. That leaves roughly $700 to cover:

• car repayment

• bills

• fuel to get to work

• food

• school costs

• everything else

Two neurodivergent boys don’t come with budget settings. One of mine is so picky he literally vomits if he eats chocolate. Easter is not our holiday

School has just gone back, expenses hit hard, and recently I missed my son’s birthday because I couldn’t afford a present or cake that day. We celebrated the next day when I was paid, but the guilt sat heavy in my chest.

I’ve contacted support services and community organisations. Many are underfunded. Many have wait lists. Many simply can’t help right now.

I’m applying for every rental in my price range, but for every property there are 20–25 applications. It’s the owner’s choice. And I don’t have weeks of financial breathing room.

I am working. I am trying. I am budgeting. I am showing up for my kids every day.

But right now, it’s not enough.

I’m asking for help to bridge this gap — to secure stable, affordable housing and keep our footing while I continue rebuilding.

This isn’t about extras. It’s about stability. Safety. Breathing room.

If you can donate, thank you. If you can share, thank you. If you’ve ever rebuilt your life while exhausted and scared, you understand why this ask matters.

I am not giving up. I just need support getting through this stretch.

Ree