Gidget Angel, Jess, Gave Heartfelt Speech to Mark the Opening of Gidget House Griffith

"Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for having me here today.

It is both humbling and emotional to stand here and tell the story I never believed I’d have the courage to share. The truth is, silence speaks far louder than words when it comes to mental health.

Like many others, my journey with perinatal depression and anxiety began in that silence. After a miscarriage, I carried the weight of my grief alone, cocooned in shame and confusion. When I fell pregnant again, I thought joy would come rushing in — but instead it felt like nine months of just holding my breath.

When that rainbow finally arrived, I thought that relief would follow. But the reality was much darker.

Each night as the sun went down, a heavy sense of dread would fall over me. And every morning, it felt like a little less sunshine rose in its stead.

The newborn months — the ones we’re told to cherish, to soak up, to remember — they’re all blurry for me. I cannot recall the newborn stretch or his very first smile. What I do remember is how his cry cut through me, leaving me wishing I could somehow be more — be enough — for him.

On the outside, everything looked fine — a healthy baby, a loving family. But inside, I was unravelling. I loved my son with everything I had, yet I felt disconnected from myself, as if I were watching life unfold from behind a glass wall.

It was in my darkest moment, when I truly wondered if my family would be better off without me, that I realised something had to change, that I couldn’t keep going alone. I needed to speak the words I’d been swallowing for so long, and I needed professional help to find my way back.

That’s where organisations like Gidget Foundation Australia changed everything. Reaching out showed me what I needed to see the most, that what I was feeling, going through was real, common, and treatable. They helped me to see that asking for support isn’t a weakness — it’s a strength, for ourselves and for our families.

Fathers can feel the weight of PNDA as well — usually silent, in a desperate attempt to remain the strong presence they’ve been conditioned to be; but when one parent struggles, the whole family feels the weight of it.

I found the small gestures meant the most: when someone asked how I was, how I was coping, when a friend brought a plate of food, or even just washed my coffee cup in the sink. Sometimes I didn’t reply, but just knowing someone cared was enough to carry me through some of the hardest days.

And that’s why today matters. With the opening of Gidget House Griffith at Tresillian, parents across our region will have somewhere safe to turn, close to home. No one has to feel they are carrying this burden alone. These walls will hold space for honesty, for tears, for healing, and for hope.

Because when you’re in the depths of PNDA, it feels like you’re the only one awake in the middle of a long, dark night. But if you zoom out, you see there are many other lights on too. Other parents, other families, sitting in their own darkness, thinking they’re alone. Services like Gidget help us find each other’s lights. They remind us that while the night may feel endless, dawn does come.

To Arabella, Rob, Jarrod, and the Gidget team — thank you for making this possible. To the healthcare professionals and community partners here today — thank you for being the listening ear, the guiding hand, and sometimes the first lifeline.

And to anyone who may be struggling, please know, you are not alone. You are not broken. There is light after the darkest nights, and there are people ready to walk alongside you until you find the strength to walk on your own.

Thank you."