The Three Men I Lost & Found Myself

Number #1 - Darren

Song: Stevie Nicks - Edge of Seventeen

When I was 15 years old, a hostel girl at NGHS and very innocent, I met a guy named Darren and fell in love. Little did I know, he was a very toxic male, and he was 5 years older than me. I had left school after getting a School Certificate the second time around. The holes in my education — I went to many schools, and spent Standards 4, 5, and 6 at a country school — made learning challenging, except for maths.

My first job was as a private secretary for HB Insurance Brokers, and I did well and thrived. I would go out with my best friend Rose, who was a day bug at NGHS and is still my very special best friend today.

She had a group of mates, and we would all meet at my place, drink and smoke and have so much fun. We went to the Onekawa Pub, ended up at Jarques — a nightclub upstairs in Hastings Street — and danced till it closed. It was cool. They had a wall of mirrors and a light that highlighted white clothes. We’d walk up Shakespeare Road back to Bay View Road where I lived and crash for the night.

Darren got very angry with me doing this and we would fight, but I didn’t let him stop me. Then one night he’d had enough and punched me in the face while I was getting ready in the bathroom. I fought back as he continued, and ended up in the bedroom on the bed where he strangled me. I was able to kick him off me and get away. I rang Rose, who came and got me, and I stayed at her place in Bay View for the weekend.

I hung out with our group, and Kelvin, who liked me, gave me hugs, and I felt safe. One other friend, Dion, had already stopped Darren from hitting me another night at my house. By this stage, I was 16.

I found out my mum and dad were in town at my godparents’ place, so Rose took me there and I told them I had kicked Darren out of the house and why. My face and lip showed what had happened. Unfortunately, they owned the house, and Mum said I had no right to kick him out. I was forced to live in the house with him still there.

There was a spare room, so I had space. I went to work and got closer to Kelvin. He even let me drive his prized V8 Holden car he built — with his friends in it — back then that was a no-go for guys. I had planned his 17th birthday party at my place; he would visit me even with Darren there. I was mentally not good and told Kelvin I needed space. I heard later he had tried to climb the long staircase from Shakespeare to Bay View Road to visit but had an asthma attack.

I never saw him again.

He was a passenger in a mate’s car — his own was getting an upgrade. It was raining, the car spun a 360 and hit a power pole, killing Kelvin instantly. I remember getting ready for work, got the call, and cried my eyes out. Darren asked me, “What are you crying for?” when I told him Kelvin was dead.

I had the party anyway, as a celebration of Kelvin’s life. So many turned up. I told my cousin downstairs she may want to go out for the night as it would be noisy. She didn’t, and came up a couple of times to complain. I would turn the stereo down, but someone would turn it up. Rose and I tidied up before we went to sleep. My parents lived an hour away and at 3am there was banging on the door. I answered to my very angry dad storming in. He opened the kitchen door and threw all the crates full of empty bottles out the door. Rose was so scared. I couldn’t get a word in, and the next day I was served an eviction notice.

Darren took advantage of my state of mind, took me to Wairoa, and a few weeks later I found out I was pregnant.

Number #2 - Steve

Song: The Best of My Love – Eagles

I met Steve when I was 29, a single mum of two beautiful, awesome daughters and working as a meat packer. I joined his indoor netball team, hadn’t played since primary, and loved being in a mixed team. We shared the love of music, accepted each other for who we were, and fell in love.

We planned my 30th together, recorded so much music, went to Shooters where local live bands played weekly, and drank homebrew bourbon — $20 for a 40 oz!! I found the band for my birthday “Man Sized Rooster,” hired the fire station hall, and bought drinks over 3 months. Steve got my cake made for me — a special surprise I still treasure. He had sneakily taken a photo of me as a kid in a pink bikini sitting on the sand — and that whole photo was the top of the cake. “Happy Birthday Beach Bum” — that was me to a T.

I was happy in Latham Street, but my parents asked me to move to Bay View Road as they had many problems with tenants. I did move there, and Steve moved in with us. We had our teething problems, especially when I realised he rang his parents each time we disagreed. His mother would ring me to tell me off for making him make his own lunches — my girls had to, so I didn’t see the problem.

When my dad evicted us (another story), we ended up having to move in with his parents. His mother had a liver transplant but was still an active alcoholic, which meant my girls and I paid big time when Steve and his dad were at work. I was studying and home a lot.

I tried to tell Steve and his father what was going on, but they didn’t believe me. Not until Steve helped his mum unload groceries one night and saw two 40 oz bottles of gin.

Eventually, we moved to Massy Crescent with the help of his parents. We paid for everything. The agreement was it was ours but under their name so we could build up finances. I later found out the control they had over Steve. One time I convinced Steve to paint the house with me — his dad came over, yelled, and Steve silently packed everything up.

Then came the “meeting” at his parents’ place where I was told the house was now split in thirds: Steve, his parents, and his brother. I reminded them the agreement was 50/50. I asked Steve, are you going to accept this? He looked at the floor. I cried the whole way home and asked how he could let this happen. He said I was greedy and ungrateful — not his words. I knew he’d been coached.

After that, Steve turned very dark. He stopped talking, shut himself in the garage, and cut the girls and me off. I would take his dinners out every night, beg him to talk. He became aggressive and scared my girls. They would crawl into each other’s rooms when we fought. Eventually, he became physical.

An old friend of Steve’s began visiting. I knew he was a meth addict and told Steve I didn’t want him around the girls. Another fight. I ended up in one room at a work colleague’s place until I found a house for the girls and me.

I was working for First Chiropractic and even became NZ’s first qualified Chiropractic Assistant during this time. When I went to get my things, I found out Steve’s parents had gone to police saying I’d stolen a camera and PlayStation — got a warrant for my arrest. Thankfully, I explained everything and the officer called Steve. The warrant was dismissed.

A few months later, I rang Steve asking him to stop his mum ringing my daughters at night, drunk and abusive. He did.

Then one day I saw him at the supermarket. He was thin, eyes dark. He’d once had the most beautiful green eyes. I said hi and carried on. A few weeks later, he came into my work — hands shaking — gave me my CDs and asked me to say hi to the girls. I was happy to see him.

I asked the girls if they wanted to see him. One said no, the other said yes — he had been the only dad she’d known. I took my eldest to Wellington to stay with my brother for uni, and the day I was meant to leave, I got sick and stayed an extra day.

Then came the call. Steve had taken his life in the garage. My world collapsed.

I was allowed to see him every day until the funeral. Many blamed me. I didn’t care — they were wrong. I was still estranged from my parents, but they came to the funeral and we stayed distant.

I was numb for months. My youngest too. I know this because I got us a grief counsellor after 3 months. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, panic attacks every day after work. I gave my daughter time off school to ride horses with her best friend. That’s all I could do — I felt like a failure.

Number #3 - Kevin (Dad)

Song: Simple Man – Lynyrd Skynyrd

I’ve shared a bit above about my relationship with my parents. My dad Kevin was adopted to wonderful parents who couldn’t have children. Nana was a lady — Dad didn’t appreciate the hairdos or clothes. He was a swimmer, drummer, milk and paper boy on Napier Hill. He was caned daily at NBHS for not cutting his hair short. He was a drummer — no one told him what to do.

He left school at 15, ran away to Wellington when someone told him he was adopted. Lived under a bridge till he found his mates. Cooked, cleaned, got a job. Met Mum — they were 16 and 17. He was in a band.

Dad loved fishing. We had many years fishing together, with competitions about who could catch the most. Dad usually did — but I would catch the biggest. Those days were some of our happiest times.


He passed away in 2020, taking his life.

Our relationship was complicated, but I’m proud of the woman I’ve become.

To the reader:

If you’ve read this far, thank you. These stories aren’t just about heartbreak and loss — they’re about survival, and about learning to hold your own hand when no one else will. They're about finding your strength through devastation and not letting the world turn you bitter.

For every tear, there has been a lesson. For every door slammed shut, I found one I could build myself. And in those moments of absolute despair, I discovered the fire inside me that no one could take away.

If you’re going through it — keep going. You are not broken. You are becoming.

With love,

Me