Human Nature wasn’t just therapy – it was a support system that changed my life in ways I can’t even explain. – Clara
When I was first referred to Human Nature, I didn’t think therapy could work for me. I’d tried it before – the kind where you sit in an office, stare at the floor, and feel like you have to say the “right” thing. I always left feeling worse. Everything felt like too much. I wasn’t sleeping, I was dealing with anxiety, I was self-harming and using anything I could – alcohol, weed, vaping. Things with my mum were really tense, and my dad had just gotten out of jail. Some nights I had somewhere to sleep, some I didn’t. But when I heard Human Nature did sessions outdoors, I agreed to give it a try.
That first drive to the beach with my Adventure Therapist felt strange, but not in a bad way. It was the first time a service didn’t feel like a service. It felt human. We’d talk in the car, walk along the beach, just sit and watch the waves. My therapist helped me tell my story in a new way — not just what had happened to me, but who I was underneath it. Through narrative therapy, mindfulness, and something called acceptance and commitment therapy, I started figuring out what actually mattered to me. Music helped too. I’d make playlists to explain how I was feeling.
Eventually, my therapist helped me get a spot in youth transitional housing. That changed everything. I started going back to school more, I even agreed to see a counsellor who works with victims of crime – something I never thought I’d be able to face.
Being part of Human Nature over the last few years has changed my life in ways I can’t even explain. It’s not just therapy — it’s a support system. People who show up, who genuinely care. The beach walks, the check-ins, the real conversations, the practical help — even the big adventures, like the trip to Moreton Island — they all helped shape who I am now. Human Nature has given me stability, opportunities, and a sense of belonging that I’ll carry with me always.
I’m still figuring things out. But I’m not struggling alone anymore. And that makes all the difference.
Photography Phil Gallagher. Posed by models for confidentiality.
