My Story

Why I’m Sharing This

... over the years, I’ve helped many men reconnect with themselves through touch, presence and honesty. Yet, before I could do that for others, I had to learn to do it for myself. This is my story — the path that led me to this work and to a deeper understanding of connection, healing and what it means to experience your own body.

Our stories… are often the main reason we’re not connected to ourselves. All my life I have been trapped by my story: the little gay boy from the country who never felt like he belonged or was good enough. Mine is just a story — one of many. You may relate, you may not. It doesn’t matter.

I also want to acknowledge that some people have stories far worse than mine. But I believe that to grow, we need to try to let go of these stories. They are not who we are. This is not the person I am today. And yet, I am grateful for everything that has happened to me — including the negative — and for all the people in my life, including those who have hurt me. I am stronger for it and a more balanced human being because of my struggles.

But this is mainly a story of connection.

What are we if we cannot connect… alone?

I’d like to share a snapshot of my story. Why am I sharing this with you? Because I want to stop running and hiding. I want real, authentic connections. You can only truly connect if you are honest, authentic and real — right?

This is something I have never done before but I now know there is no other way. With this story, there’s nowhere for me to hide. Anyone, including my family, can read it. I am exposed and the fraud I once was can be no more. These walls I hide behind will have to come down. This is part of my healing process.

I think it’s now time to say goodbye to this story and start writing a new chapter. This story has held me back for far too long and quite frankly, I am tired of it. It no longer serves me.The most important thing to me these days is connection. Connection is in our DNA. We rely on it as a species to survive. To deny it is to go against our natural instinct.

But first, the story.

Why can I not connect?

They say to find the problem, go back to childhood. I grew up in a house full of love. I was a very happy child, but a highly sensitive gay boy who was isolated and alone with his hidden identity. I come from a family of builders and grew up on a farm, surrounded by men who, at the time, I would say suffered from toxic masculinity. It was very much a man’s world back then, run by what were mostly homophobic men.

I was a teenager in the 80s, during the AIDS pandemic, and there was a lot of fear. I listened carefully to what people around me were saying. I learned quickly to keep my mouth shut as I did not want to be a disappointment to my family. I quietly faded into the background and grew small so no one would notice me over here with my “dirty little secret.”

Coping mechanisms

I developed a range of coping mechanisms to survive and feel in control, including:

• Perfectionism – trying desperately to fit in, to be accepted and loved

• Procrastination – always thinking and afraid of making mistakes

• Self-doubt and self-hatred – I have been very busy hating myself

• Running and hiding – so no one could get close enough

• Comfort eating and shopping – eating and buying my way to happiness

• Anger, rage, jealousy, envy and bullying – not coping well

• Judgement of others – with the harshest judgement reserved for myself

• Reject before being rejected – I couldn’t handle the pain of rejection

• Obsessive porn addiction – because I couldn’t connect with boys in real life

• Severe body dysmorphia – never feeling good enough or worthy

• Trying to be a respectable person – to please the ‘right’ people and be accepted

• Good-boy syndrome – needed to be good so my parents would always love me

• Mr Nice-Guy syndrome – pleasing everyone and careful to never offend others

• Control – trying to manage my environment to feel safe

• Avoidance and paranoia – always thinking people were making fun of me

• Seeking validation – constantly seeking approval yet never believing it anyway

• Worry and anxiety – always alert to danger

Maybe you recognise some of these. There are others. I now understand why I have always felt so tired.

And of course — the never-ending shame and guilt.

Depending on how old you are (pre-internet, post-internet)

You may or may not relate to my experiences. But this was only 30+ years ago. It was a totally different world. No mobile phones, no internet, no social media, no streaming, no 24-hour news cycle — and certainly no positive gay role models for young boys like me to look up to.

Gay people were hiding in the closet. Media representations were mostly about sickness, deviance and death. Religious leaders condemned us. People didn’t know any gay people because everyone was afraid to come out — and people often fear what they don’t understand. Most gay movies were about AIDS and death.

So I was taught to hate myself from a very young age and I have spent much of my life trying to be someone I am not. I became distant and cold, never getting too close to people in case they started asking questions I didn’t want to answer. The one I hated most: “Do you have a girlfriend?”

I kept to myself, let beautiful friendships fade away and lived in fear.

Connection and self-love questions

I have always struggled with connection and it drives me to this day:

- How do I develop authentic connections?- How do I learn to love myself?- How can someone love me if I cannot love myself?- Why is it so hard for me?- Why do I still not feel good enough?

Coming out

In my early twenties, in the 90s, I left home to explore my sexuality — away from those who knew and loved me. I ran away to London, alone. It was scary, exhilarating, amazing and terrifying all at once.

But I discovered my community — gay boys just like me, my age. I could not hide my joy. I felt seen and safe for the first time in my life. It was SO amazing — and I had never felt SO alive. Yet, I also had never felt SO not good enough.

I had left my beautiful little town in South West WA, a small town of small-minded but good, honest, hardworking people. Suddenly, I was surrounded by cool, exciting people with ambition and plans — everything I wasn’t.

I learned quickly to adapt, to fit in but all my feelings and emotions that I had suppressed all this time came flooding up. I could not stop crying and it was always when I was speaking to my parents, who loved me and worried about me so much. They were so confused as to why I was SO upset. I had to confess what was troubling me.

Coming out is traumatic. The fear of rejection by the people who mean the most to you is real and painful. My parents paused… and finally said: “Alex, we love you no matter what.” And with that, the weight lifted… just a little. I knew my father would have preferred otherwise but I could live with that. I am aware that others are not so lucky.

Drugs, parties, boys and body dysmorphia

For the first time, I felt freedom. I threw myself into the gay scene — clubs, music, boys, dance parties. I experimented with party drugs. It was incredible but really, I was just numbing the deep pain I carried. I still didn’t feel good enough until the drugs took effect. Then, for a few hours, my coping mechanisms disappeared. I felt completely present in the moment, free from my mind and the endless negative self-talk.

I started to like myself. I started to love myself. I loved this guy — happy, confident and most of all, authentic. I called him Xander. But as the drug faded, so did he and I was left picking up the pieces.

This was also when my body dysmorphia began — comparing myself to all the beautiful boys around me. Was I good enough? I’m not advocating drugs. They are not the answer. But for a few hours, I could connect with my soul — my true self. I wondered: can I achieve this state without drugs?

Life rolls on

Met a boy. Fell in love. Settled down. Got a dog. Became a ‘respectable’ couple. He made me feel whole, seen, validated — everything I had dreamed of.

But my old coping mechanisms were never far away. He did not suffer with doubt and confidence like I did and the relationship was confronting at times for me. I worked hard to control it so I could feel comfortable.

Now living in Sydney, the gay scene is tough — not for the faint-hearted (i.e. me). Fun sometimes for sure but often mean. I always struggled to fit in. I still don’t really feel like I belong but I care less about that these days.

The new gay world… and the world of comparison

Now, life is online — social media, dating apps, endless connection. Everyone seems to be living amazing lives. But comparison is constant:

- Am I doing enough?- Am I enough?

Distraction is at your fingertips and I keep busy, avoiding my feelings. People stare at their phones and I am also guilty, but I have to say, I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel right. It feels so disconnected from life and doesn’t make me happy. I know I am not the only one but it is the world we now live in.

But my life as a Gen X has straddled two completely different worlds, and I still wrestle with this new one.

The beginning of change

Something happened that shifted me. I read a quote on a café blackboard: “If you always do what you have always done, you will always get what you have always gotten.”

I knew I wanted more from life. I was the problem. I didn’t understand why I behaved as I did but I knew something had to change.

I started with my career. I had been working and living for money, pleasing others but it wasn’t aligned with my real self. I wanted to work with people and connect, so I signed up for my first massage course. I thought: what better way to connect?

I have never been happier. I am more aligned with myself than ever. A good start.

Waking up

Two major events woke me up:

Death – My beautiful, loving mother passed away. My love for her was pure and losing her changed my world. The one person I could always depend on was gone. Can life ever be the same? It was like a slap across the face — wake up!

Getting dumped – After 17 years, my partner left. We had planned to marry. Another slap, but this time, a backhand, and it left a mark. Alone again at 50.

No one cares. It’s just me

My fear is back again. Panic and sleepless nights so I got a therapist — best decision ever. I started understanding my behaviour, having compassion for myself. I read self-help books, listened to podcasts sharing incredible stories of struggle, letting go and hope. I realised life can flow instead of being a battle.

We are not guaranteed life yet we carry on mindlessly, trapped by our internal stories: “You’re stupid. Too fat. Too old. No one will want you.” The endless cycle of negative self-talk.

Then I read a quote: “No one can make you feel anything. Only you can.” The penny dropped. I got it. I had been torturing myself my whole life. No one else could do that — the responsibility was all mine.

Understanding, forgiving, acceptance and letting go

Just let go, Alex. Life is not fair. It is not under our control. It will do what it wants regardless of me and what I want. I had to learn to live in acceptance.

Why worry about what others think? Who are they to make me feel bad anyway? Everyone else is worrying about their own stuff. What makes you think they are even thinking about you?

I began letting go, forgiving myself, forgiving others and accepting life as it is.I started asking myself: Who am I? What do I want? What do I need? Is it okay to put my needs first? The past shaped me but isn’t happening now, yet my mind keeps it present. I decided to reclaim my power and create new stories.

And here I am, a trained Somatic Bodyworker, helping people connect to their bodies — and helping myself along the way.

Connecting to our aliveness is the source of healing

We are trapped in our minds, ruminating on the past, fearing the future, comparing ourselves to others. We are not in our bodies.

I have numbed myself for much of my life but I want more. I want to connect to myself, to others and to life itself. We have love to give but the one person I struggled to love was myself. That must change. This work is essential.

We must connect to ourselves before we can connect to others or life. Today, I focus on love and connection. Nothing else matters. I am worthy. I deserve pleasure and happiness — and so do you!

Our bodies are a blessing and are to be enjoyed and celebrated. How can we think otherwise?

So check out my offerings — I have a range of beautiful treatments for you to choose from. Let’s celebrate your body!

Thank you for your interest in my story — if you got this far! 🙂