Reflections on ‘home’, on the first anniversary of no longer being homeless.

2011, August: ozco digital program ended and I left my gorgeous flat in Sydney. started being no fixed abode totally by choice, couchsurfing with friends and a few strangers while I caught back up with old networks and got things ready for the transition to buslife.

2012, December 31st: started living in #homeJames – 5 months in an empty shell with a swag in the back, then gradually getting her sorted with a basic fit-out (back to couchsurfing during those fit-outs). started working out what no fixed abode means when you own your home but not the land it sits on, and more deeply questioning how anyone can really own land in the first place.

2015, October: #homeJames’ engine blew, taking 9 weeks and costing $9k to rebuild. back to no fixed abode while waiting.

2016, September: left #homeJames, my life and belongings in AU while ‘temporarily’ returning to UK to try to prevent my elderly and disabled mum losing her home, and to sort out proper care for her. back to no fixed abode again, but this time not by choice, and with far fewer options.

2017, September: mum died, her financial and legal issues remaining. still no fixed abode. still not by choice. citizens advice bureau told me in very clear terms to stop calling it ‘no fixed abode’: I was homeless. felt wrong to use that term because I wasn’t on the streets. whatever I felt about the word, the legal definition of homelessness was accurate to my circumstances. I had to accept that, to understand that if I was going to be successful seeking help in the system, I needed to own and state my vulnerabilities very clearly.

2018, June: moved in to my housing association flat in Salford, ending almost 2yrs of homelessness (I don’t count any of 2011-16 as homelessness, because I had the choice at every stage). not long after (Sept), I began working one day a week with local, national, and international arts and homelessness communities. not much longer after that (Oct) I was diagnosed as Autistic.

2019, June – present day: gradually my flat has become a home that I love, a place to feel safe, to grow. took a while to be ok with the guilt of ‘bailing’ on buslife, and having such luxury (a roof, the fragments of free healthcare and some welfare benefits) while so many still don’t. but this place, and being back in Manchester/Salford, has provided roots, stability, growth.

Acclimatising to Autism has allowed me to see the world and my own brain through different lenses, with new understandings and futures starting to reveal themselves and this weekend we finally got possession of mum’s home back; we can now finish our financial and legal obligations, and I am free to choose again.

There’s still a journey left to close down mum’s life. I’ve had to accept I won’t get to really choose, not the big decisions, until that’s over. will I choose to return to Australia and buslife? if not, what happens to all that? will I choose to stay in bricks in UK? if not, what’s next for me? will it end up as some kind of combination, or some other journey entirely? I really don’t know.

Feeling exhausted, physically and emotionally, as is to be expected. feeling grateful for my home(s), sister, friends, a great new therapist and so much kindness that’s got me through so much experimenting and failing and learning and falling and growing and rebuilding.

I’ve been so fortunate to be able to live around and within so many different lives, countries and cultures, to see the world through their eyes. I’ve got so much more to learn, so much more to see, hear, taste, smell, feel, and touch, and so very much more to share. the phoenix is forming. let’s hope the earth is still turning, with us on it, by the time she’s ready.