I live by three words now — health, home, and happiness. They might sound simple, maybe even obvious, but to me they’re hard-earned. I didn’t always have them. For a long time, I didn’t have any of them.
These days, my home is clean, quiet, and calm. It’s somewhere I can close the door, take a deep breath, and know I’m safe. That feeling — that sense of safety — is something you don’t truly value until you’ve lived without it. Before now, my life felt like a constant state of noise. Noise from outside. Noise in my head. Noise from people who didn’t care or didn’t understand. Now, when I sit in my living room, I can actually hear the clock ticking. I can hear my own thoughts without them turning against me.
When I first came to First People, I wasn’t just looking for a place to live. I needed a fresh start, but I didn’t even know how to take the first step. They gave me more than a set of keys — they gave me a plan. A real, practical way forward. They didn’t just say, “Here’s your flat, good luck.” They stuck around. That’s what makes the difference.
The wraparound support they provide has been life-changing. Counselling sessions have helped me unpack things I’ve carried for years. I’d always thought counselling was just talking in circles, but it’s not. It’s someone listening without judgement, helping you make sense of why you think and feel the way you do, and showing you tools to manage it. I’ve learned that motivation isn’t something you just “have” — it’s something you work at every day. Some days are easier than others, but with the mental health awareness programmes they run, I’ve got strategies for the tougher ones.
Before, I used to react to everything. If I had a bad day, I’d spiral. If someone said something negative, it would knock me off course for a week. Now, I can pause. Think. Choose how to respond. That might not sound like much, but for me, it’s huge progress.
I’ve also thrown myself into learning. First People encouraged me to take courses, and once I started, I realised how much I enjoy it. I’ve completed drug and alcohol awareness training, as well as substance misuse courses. It’s not just for me — it’s so I can use my own experiences to help others, especially young people.
You see, I know how easy it is to slip into the wrong crowd, to make one decision that leads to another, and before you know it, you’re somewhere you never wanted to be. If I can stand in front of someone younger than me and tell them the truth about where those paths lead, maybe — just maybe — they’ll take a different route. Even if it’s only one person, it’s worth it.
First People have also helped me set goals that are realistic. I used to think goals had to be big — get a job, buy a house, fix everything all at once. But that’s overwhelming, and when you can’t achieve it straight away, you feel like you’ve failed. Now, my goals are smaller but solid: cook healthy meals three nights a week, keep my home tidy, attend every counselling session, go for a walk twice a week. They might not sound like much, but they stack up. One small success leads to another, and slowly you build a life that feels stable.
And that’s where health comes in. I’m looking after myself more — eating better, sleeping better, staying active. It’s not about perfection, it’s about consistency. My health isn’t just physical, it’s mental. I can’t have one without the other. If my head’s in the right place, I take better care of my body, and if my body feels good, my head’s clearer.
Happiness, though — that’s the tricky one. For a long time, I thought happiness was something other people had. It was pictures on social media, families in adverts, people who didn’t have my past. But I’ve realised happiness isn’t a constant state. It’s moments. A quiet morning coffee. Watching a good film without feeling anxious. Getting a message from someone I’ve helped. Those moments add up.
And my home is at the centre of it all. It’s not just four walls — it’s proof that I’ve moved forward. When I look around, I see a space I’ve made my own. The calm here gives me the headspace to focus on my health, and together they bring me those moments of happiness. It’s all connected.
When I think back to where I was, the difference is night and day. I remember the stress of unstable housing — not knowing how long you’d be somewhere, constantly packing and unpacking, sleeping with one eye open. I remember the impact that had on my mental health, how it chipped away at my confidence until I wasn’t sure I had anything left to give.
First People didn’t just hand me stability, they helped me rebuild myself. They’ve made sure I’m not just surviving, but actually living. I’ve got people I can turn to if I’m struggling. I’ve got a reason to get up in the morning. I’ve got a voice again — and I’m using it to try to make a difference for others.
There are still challenges, of course. Life doesn’t suddenly become perfect because you’ve got a roof over your head. But now, when something goes wrong, I’ve got tools and people to help me work through it. I’m not facing it alone.
So when I say “health, home, and happiness,” it’s not just a nice phrase. It’s a reminder of where I’ve been and where I’m going. My home gives me the foundation, my health keeps me moving forward, and those moments of happiness — no matter how small — are what make it all worthwhile.
I’ve learned that you can’t always change where you start, but you can change where you end up. And right now, I’m finally heading in the right direction.
