SuN
.:~**~.~**~.~**~:.
So proud of mah cuz 
lulz skydiving seems to be the flavour of the tiems...
Greetings Sam,
I wish to reply to your blog posting about me this week. I have not spoken to the media so they don't have my side. Frankly, I've always loved your blog and have massive respect for the writing that you give us. So I'm replying to you.
I will be brutally honest here.
I was born with a disability. I have cerebral palsy.
I was always a very determined young kid. I had constant speech therapy, physio, legs in plaster, legs in splints, chiropractor appointments and massages up until the age of 16. I still do constant stretching and free weight work.
As you might suspect, I got singled out for being different and bullied. I couldn't physically defend myself, so I just took the crap I had pushed upon me. It was verbal stuff, not physical thankfully.
Things were OK until I was 12. I was coping. It's when puberty hit that the rot really started to kick in. Everybody wants acceptance from the opposite sex. When I was 14, there was a high school social I went to. It dawned on me that night that I was going to be up against it in the girl department.
My friends were getting interest and I felt like I never was going to. It was very isolating. I went home to my mum that night and cried for two hours in her arms. Sadly, I resigned myself to defeat there and then. It was too painful so I shut off.
Because of this, asking girls out was simply a rite of passage I missed out on. I had too many inner demons to fight. Every time I thought someone was showing interest or my mates told me about it I would think, "Nah, couldn't be right. Has she seen my leg?"
As an adult going into the world (think beyond high school) I was a spineless little wuss in general. I simply had no self-esteem as I had been battered around emotionally. Time passed and I thought I was getting better. I thought I was ace.
Last year, I met a girl with a similar mind to mine. Ticks the same way etc. Basically, I get complimented on my looks a bit so I get interest. That photo is not representative of me as I write this now. I will explain that part in a minute.
Because of my issues, every time a girl would try and get close to me, I would want this, but I would self-sabotage. I simply could not open up about my disability. It was too painful. That wound would get picked at every time I was asked. I had a massive wall around me.
For the girl mentioned above, I sucked it up and told her. That was 15 years worth of stuff locked away. It was f---ing hard. She asked if I'd ever had a girlfriend, I plainly said "no".
Basically, after that she got scared off. Not because of me but because I probably had an emotional overreaction to the relief, like a dam wall busting. I lost my head after that. Not masculine.
Time passed and she floated back into my orbit again. Again, she expressed an interest and I started to freak. I thought she was going to string me along. I wrote her a message on Facebook. I wasn't abusive but I projected my problems on to her, thinking they were hers.
This was about three months ago.
The impact was like a bomb going off. She felt sick. This smashed my mind open. It was then I realised how poisoned I had become. I felt sick. I was in tears. I was in a blind fury for the time I felt I had wasted in my life. I felt I'd been lied to. I was told I was worth nothing. I believed the bullies.
This started an absolutely furious emotional purging process. I wrote down my innermost thoughts and sent it to my mum. I was devastated doing this and in tears. I had to open up about my greatest inadequacies. I sent her the letter. She was speechless.
I also started writing to my closest mates. At this time, I composed a "footnote" that contained multiple bullying incidents that had made me ashamed of myself. This included uncensored language to give the tormented little boy inside his chance to speak up. I also sent this to people.
I had responses come back to me. One from my closest mate and another from the girl mentioned above. My courage gave them courage.
I had a beard. I shaved that off. I had long hair. I shaved that off. I threw out a stack of old belongings. These were all objects that I was emotionally attached to. Links to my sad past. Throwing them away was yet more weight coming off.
I also started seeing a counsellor through work. As you can likely imagine, my underlying issues had an impact on my work performance. I have always been a perfectionist to make up for my inferiority complex about my disability. Luckily, I found an awesome one who gave me tools to rationalise my thoughts.
I am a massive advocate for mental health after this. We frankly all need these "mental tune-ups" from time to time. The world is full of mixed messages and it can be hard to make sense of them. Our mountains are often just molehills.
I was told something in counselling that resonated with me hard:
"Lying uses emotional energy."
I used to say that I was in a car accident when somebody would ask about my cerebral palsy. I couldn't hack the truth myself. Too traumatic. Too many years of being called "spastic" and "retard".
Since the counselling process started, I've cut the bullshit and dropped the "mask". I'm a much happier person for it. I'm not seeking advantage from anyone. People can accept me as I am or not. I finally accept myself, warts and all.
With my past, I never used to take risks in life. I wrapped myself in cottonwool. I fell over so many times physically as a child that I didn't want to feel that pain again. I cocooned myself emotionally.
To test the "new me" I set myself a real challenge. I enrolled for skydiving.
I think I rehearsed the scenario about 1000 times in my head for a month, wondering if the parachute would deploy or not. I didn't tell too many people I was skydiving. This would have built extra pressure into the situation.
The day came and that feeling of having my legs dangle out of a plane at 14,000 feet, looking down at Wollongong was terrifying. However, the feeling of jumping out of the plane and conquering that fear was exhilarating.
Naturally, I was f---ing content with myself that day, at peace. I had accomplished a massive goal I had set myself. The old me would never have gone skydiving.
That night I went out to a club with mates. This was the night I met Olivia. I met her at a club, not a party as has been reported.
Olivia came up to me and started talking. We got along easily. She has a mind as well as being attractive. This caught my attention. And her attention flattered me greatly. She told me I was lovely. She was tactile. She seemed in control and not overly drunk. When my mates saw this, they became instantly more animated. Excited. I was relaxed.
Anyway, we had our encounter and parted as you do in those environments. She went back to her friends. As soon as this happened, my mates got straight in my face.
"Dude, that fish has jumped straight in your boat. Do something!" was one comment.
Another guy who I had said 20 words to all night then gave me a 10-minute "pep talk" uninterrupted. It was during this time Olivia left the club area.
Her friends were still there so I thought she would come back. She did not. The level of disgust you likely felt at my not seizing [the] moment pales in comparison to what I felt on that night.
Then the comments continued: "Man, maybe that stuff doesn't bug you but it would if it was me."
The guys were trying to help, but all they did was make me gradually more pissed off. They were ramming that pedestal males have for attractive women down my damn throat. I've worked my arse off to overcome that. I'm not impressed by a woman easily. Not at all.
I went home that night completely frustrated. Again, I had choked. Like the old me would have.
This was a night I should have been feeling chuffed about my skydiving achievement and my personal journey thus far. Instead, skydiving felt like it was worth nothing. I had been through the hardest time of my damn life and achieved something great.
I gained 10 hours of inner peace from it. I felt ripped off.
All Sunday I was ruminating over it. I wasn't going to do anything about it at that stage.
However, I woke up the Monday morning knowing I was going to go through with it. I was going to go through the entire mental process I had done for skydiving and jump again, only in a different context.
This was me saying: "Society you always have ripped my dignity away as soon as I attain it. I've had enough. If you're threatening to totally cut off my balls, I'm fighting you tooth and nail for what's left. I dare you. F---ing bring it on."
I simply took matters into my own hands. If I had a 0.00005 per cent chance of making contact with Olivia, I was going to take that instead of having a zero per cent chance.
This was about reinforcing the lesson from skydiving. I was not going to let the fear from others, and peer pressure, dictate the situation. I understand this is a negative motivation, Sam but I'd simply had enough. That email was a last resort. I did try a Facebook search.
I stuck everything on the line, I was that fed up. My balls were on the guillotine and the blade was lowering ... This was my Michael Jordan moment. Game six in the '98 finals against Utah.
I composed my email. I went to push the button. I hesitated. I muttered to myself "F---ing push the button." (This would have been audible; on the inside I was screaming it.)
I pushed it ...
I stuck my head straight in my hands and went into a cold sweat. The email program started to choke and my PC started to whirl like a lawnmower.
The reason I composed the email in the way I did was to be respectful to Olivia firstly, to warm other people's days secondly, and to elicit compassion to hit my target.
I wrote that email from a place of soul-bearing honesty, not approval-seeking. I admitted I f---ed up to 4000 people. I didn't expect the court of public opinion to expand to 22 million people.
I immediately got phone calls.
"Why did you do this?"
"Totally inappropriate".
I got called into my bosses' office. I explained what happened as best I could. I immediately got responses.
Then a funny thing happened. Despite the initial shock, the replies I got back were positive on the whole. About 95 per cent of them.
A woman said: "I wish a guy would go to that sort of effort for me."
The response that sticks out the most is this: "I didn't expect it to go viral. Amazing. I wish you all the best with Olivia but regardless of what happens, I love your spirit. You have a strong one. Honour it."
I expected a few "tut tuts" and "Aw, isn't that sweet?" responses and for it to remain "in house".
How naive I was.
Prank calls then started. My work number was immediately cancelled and a new one set up. I was instructed not to reply to any of the responses. I got wind of my email going to the riotact at 1.45pm.
I forwarded it straight to our Values and Conduct section. I thought I was toast employment-wise. I had a recorded interview with them. I hid from nothing.
After I got back from the interview and sat at my desk, I saw it. Olivia had responded. The real Olivia. Her response was "Wow". She mentioned that she was sort of seeing somebody but was really flattered. She called me a dag for sending the email to the entire department. I couldn't reply at that stage, I was muzzled.
Mission accomplished. I did not fail.
I went back to my boss. I explained my thoughts. She said she knew I was mentally preparing for the worst case scenario but that it likely wouldn't result in termination.
That night, I was at my friends getting my legs massaged. Totally freaked out.
After my massage, I was pacing around the kitchen. Anita, my friend said "Steve, I can tell when you're not all right, you're not are you?"
I simply shot back "No."
Her reply was "Go and talk to Wes [my mate and her husband] now."
That's what I did. I hashed it out for an hour with him. It was tough. I then went out into the living room. The Channel Ten late news was on in the background. That's when I got wind it had gone national. I freaked out again.
I then told Anita. Thankfully, she advised me to stay at their place and not go home. I needed them at this stage. Obviously, I couldn't look at the media storm. An absolute frenzy.
I had the Tuesday off and hid out. Anita and Wes monitored the public sentiment: 75 per cent positive on the whole, they said.
I went back to work on the Wednesday.
All media requests in my inbox were nothing but respectful. For this I am appreciative. I did get the SMH contacting me. If I'm talking to any SMH journalist, it's you Sam. I respect your message and support everything you stand for.
During the period of time before I sent that message on Facebook to the first girl I mentioned, I realised how cold and empty I was inside and how isolated my disability had made me feel. I wasn't giving any warmth to others because I wouldn't let people get close enough to me. I thought I was a man and didn't need anybody to lean on. I had minimised my torment and pushed it down. This is why I never spoke about my disability.
What I learned from this is that if you're lacking something on the inside, you need to give it out to others. Even if it isn't returned in kind, it will make you feel happier inside.
The media storm over this whole thing has been a joke. I achieved my primary purpose before it broke national. Things got blown massively out of proportion.
Ninemsn had the wrong photo of me.
The Sunday Telegraph had an article featuring an Olivia Nasser. I have never met her. This was the number one clicked article on the news.com.au website.
Kerri-Anne Kennerley claimed to have found Olivia; whether it was Nasser or another one, I don't know.
If the "Olivia" quoted in media doesn't remember me it's because I look totally different with a shaved head and stubble compared to the Jedi photo and I've likely never met her.
The real Olivia most likely went underground as she wouldn't have wanted a part of the hype. She is seeing somebody else and needs to protect that. This is not another invitation to find her by the way. I have stayed silent whilst the media twisted themselves in knots.
I haven't really looked at much of the press, Sam. It's too overwhelming. The Olivia Nasser report alone disgusted me. I know I have to take the good with the bad.
I specifically logged into your blog to check if you had said anything about me. I sensed you would say something. Thanks for taking the middle ground and not completely sticking the boot in. You have illustrated why I respect your opinion. You're a good man.
I suppose my message can be interpreted as having romantic undertones. Respect and dignity were my main objectives.
I had the best of intentions, but I lit a fuse and the bomb exploded. I had more pure objectives than what the scuttlebutt suggested. I only wanted to make contact with her: you know, one step at a time.
Headlines of me being a "lovelorn public servant" are hyperbole.
I don't become impressed by a woman very easily. My self-worth does not hinge on their approval. This one was exceptional, however. And I do want to mend fences with the other person in this story.
I felt like I had to do what I did. Otherwise, skydiving would be forever tarnished and my mates would constantly refer back to Olivia and make me feel like shit.
I am a person that is different from the majority. I look at the world differently. I've had a different life with much adversity thrown in my path from a very young age. I listened to what other people told me I was worth. This shaped me into a very timid adult.
I have been going through a personal transformation the last three months. I learned that I was an unhappy person inside with many demons I had not come to terms with. Thus, I started a process to face these and kill them off.
That photo leaked to the press is the "old" me.
I look totally different now.
This revolves around me living my life as honestly as I can. People are too unsure of themselves today; especially men. I've had enough of peer pressure and the media stereotypes brainwashing males into submission. I'm as loathing of it as you are.
These messages had controlled me for long enough so I threw a punch at it. Society is cold and most people have to always wear a mask. This disgusts me.
People want acceptance but they aren't doing anything to get it. Instead, they walk around staring at the ground, unsure of themselves. I injected some warmth back into the place.
I wasn't taking any risks before and it was making me unhappy internally. I sought to redress this balance. And I am happier. The fact I stirred both sides of public opinion meant I took a real punt.
What this all boils down to [is] me not distinguishing the difference between controlled risk (skydiving) and blind risk. That email was blind risk. It was an error of judgment. I accept this. I made a mistake. To my employer and especially the innocent people caught up in this mess through photos and rumours, I apologise from the bottom of my heart.
I was simply standing my ground for the deeply traumatic process I have gone through. I took matters into my own hands, the "old" me would not have. My territory had been stepped on for the last time.
The uproar this caused astounded me. Certain pockets of society have been carrying on like I committed murder. I sent an email.
The fact I wrote that email so honestly was why it propelled to the level it did. That and I had a "captive audience" in Canberra to generate the buzz. It certainly unblocked the "emotional constipation" in this town. This emotional constipation is society-wide, not Canberra specific. This is not another invitation to bash the ACT. It gets rubbished enough.
Despite any perceived embarrassment in the media, life really has been no different for me. Not one person has sniggered and laughed at me in a mean way. I have a high degree of anonymity due to my appearance having changed.
My friends absolutely admire me. I'm a hero to them: a "Love God" a "Rebel for Love", "Love Guru", "Office Romeo", "Love Jedi" etc.
My name generates an instant reaction when mentioned. Girls look at me differently. I may not have got "Juliet" (if you believe the media spin) but this thing exploding viral has had massive positive spin-offs. I have inspired people.
My dad is going to have more of a dip at life. My aunty has said: "Maybe there is something to this counselling thing."
My story is not about "Romeo & Juliet", it is about every kid being bullied in the school yard. It is about teenage kids committing suicide because they feel worthless.
It is about people dealing with disability; those who cannot communicate their suffering and the families that care for these people tirelessly.
It is about telling peer pressure to go f--- itself. It's childish behaviour and it impacts our adult lives in ways we don't see.
It is about gender stereotypes (both of them) and social conditioning. It is about mental health and getting help if needed.
It is about telling people what they mean to us while life is good. Not when a personal crisis hits. Tomorrow isn't a guarantee for any of us.
It is about standing up to society and illustrating that it has lost its way. We live in a culture of fear. Society had dimmed my spirit for long enough.
I didn't expect to get in the news, Sam, but the fact is I have. This has been my journey. I have dealt with all of these elements. I have endured this and come out the other side.
I'm telling my side to stop the bullshit and telling disadvantaged people: "You can win. I am proof of this. But you must have a go to give yourself a fighting chance at a happy life."
There are no shortcuts. Happiness is not handed to you. Capability is developed by simply having a go. If you're "outcome orientated" you won't do the things you really want. If you believe in something enough, go and get it in the right way.
I went to a party last weekend. I spoke about some of the deeper meaning behind my email with my disability to a friend. His answer: "That email has put you back to where you should have been."
lulz skydiving seems to be the flavour of the tiems...
Greetings Sam,
I wish to reply to your blog posting about me this week. I have not spoken to the media so they don't have my side. Frankly, I've always loved your blog and have massive respect for the writing that you give us. So I'm replying to you.
I will be brutally honest here.
I was born with a disability. I have cerebral palsy.
I was always a very determined young kid. I had constant speech therapy, physio, legs in plaster, legs in splints, chiropractor appointments and massages up until the age of 16. I still do constant stretching and free weight work.
As you might suspect, I got singled out for being different and bullied. I couldn't physically defend myself, so I just took the crap I had pushed upon me. It was verbal stuff, not physical thankfully.
Things were OK until I was 12. I was coping. It's when puberty hit that the rot really started to kick in. Everybody wants acceptance from the opposite sex. When I was 14, there was a high school social I went to. It dawned on me that night that I was going to be up against it in the girl department.
My friends were getting interest and I felt like I never was going to. It was very isolating. I went home to my mum that night and cried for two hours in her arms. Sadly, I resigned myself to defeat there and then. It was too painful so I shut off.
Because of this, asking girls out was simply a rite of passage I missed out on. I had too many inner demons to fight. Every time I thought someone was showing interest or my mates told me about it I would think, "Nah, couldn't be right. Has she seen my leg?"
As an adult going into the world (think beyond high school) I was a spineless little wuss in general. I simply had no self-esteem as I had been battered around emotionally. Time passed and I thought I was getting better. I thought I was ace.
Last year, I met a girl with a similar mind to mine. Ticks the same way etc. Basically, I get complimented on my looks a bit so I get interest. That photo is not representative of me as I write this now. I will explain that part in a minute.
Because of my issues, every time a girl would try and get close to me, I would want this, but I would self-sabotage. I simply could not open up about my disability. It was too painful. That wound would get picked at every time I was asked. I had a massive wall around me.
For the girl mentioned above, I sucked it up and told her. That was 15 years worth of stuff locked away. It was f---ing hard. She asked if I'd ever had a girlfriend, I plainly said "no".
Basically, after that she got scared off. Not because of me but because I probably had an emotional overreaction to the relief, like a dam wall busting. I lost my head after that. Not masculine.
Time passed and she floated back into my orbit again. Again, she expressed an interest and I started to freak. I thought she was going to string me along. I wrote her a message on Facebook. I wasn't abusive but I projected my problems on to her, thinking they were hers.
This was about three months ago.
The impact was like a bomb going off. She felt sick. This smashed my mind open. It was then I realised how poisoned I had become. I felt sick. I was in tears. I was in a blind fury for the time I felt I had wasted in my life. I felt I'd been lied to. I was told I was worth nothing. I believed the bullies.
This started an absolutely furious emotional purging process. I wrote down my innermost thoughts and sent it to my mum. I was devastated doing this and in tears. I had to open up about my greatest inadequacies. I sent her the letter. She was speechless.
I also started writing to my closest mates. At this time, I composed a "footnote" that contained multiple bullying incidents that had made me ashamed of myself. This included uncensored language to give the tormented little boy inside his chance to speak up. I also sent this to people.
I had responses come back to me. One from my closest mate and another from the girl mentioned above. My courage gave them courage.
I had a beard. I shaved that off. I had long hair. I shaved that off. I threw out a stack of old belongings. These were all objects that I was emotionally attached to. Links to my sad past. Throwing them away was yet more weight coming off.
I also started seeing a counsellor through work. As you can likely imagine, my underlying issues had an impact on my work performance. I have always been a perfectionist to make up for my inferiority complex about my disability. Luckily, I found an awesome one who gave me tools to rationalise my thoughts.
I am a massive advocate for mental health after this. We frankly all need these "mental tune-ups" from time to time. The world is full of mixed messages and it can be hard to make sense of them. Our mountains are often just molehills.
I was told something in counselling that resonated with me hard:
"Lying uses emotional energy."
I used to say that I was in a car accident when somebody would ask about my cerebral palsy. I couldn't hack the truth myself. Too traumatic. Too many years of being called "spastic" and "retard".
Since the counselling process started, I've cut the bullshit and dropped the "mask". I'm a much happier person for it. I'm not seeking advantage from anyone. People can accept me as I am or not. I finally accept myself, warts and all.
With my past, I never used to take risks in life. I wrapped myself in cottonwool. I fell over so many times physically as a child that I didn't want to feel that pain again. I cocooned myself emotionally.
To test the "new me" I set myself a real challenge. I enrolled for skydiving.
I think I rehearsed the scenario about 1000 times in my head for a month, wondering if the parachute would deploy or not. I didn't tell too many people I was skydiving. This would have built extra pressure into the situation.
The day came and that feeling of having my legs dangle out of a plane at 14,000 feet, looking down at Wollongong was terrifying. However, the feeling of jumping out of the plane and conquering that fear was exhilarating.
Naturally, I was f---ing content with myself that day, at peace. I had accomplished a massive goal I had set myself. The old me would never have gone skydiving.
That night I went out to a club with mates. This was the night I met Olivia. I met her at a club, not a party as has been reported.
Olivia came up to me and started talking. We got along easily. She has a mind as well as being attractive. This caught my attention. And her attention flattered me greatly. She told me I was lovely. She was tactile. She seemed in control and not overly drunk. When my mates saw this, they became instantly more animated. Excited. I was relaxed.
Anyway, we had our encounter and parted as you do in those environments. She went back to her friends. As soon as this happened, my mates got straight in my face.
"Dude, that fish has jumped straight in your boat. Do something!" was one comment.
Another guy who I had said 20 words to all night then gave me a 10-minute "pep talk" uninterrupted. It was during this time Olivia left the club area.
Her friends were still there so I thought she would come back. She did not. The level of disgust you likely felt at my not seizing [the] moment pales in comparison to what I felt on that night.
Then the comments continued: "Man, maybe that stuff doesn't bug you but it would if it was me."
The guys were trying to help, but all they did was make me gradually more pissed off. They were ramming that pedestal males have for attractive women down my damn throat. I've worked my arse off to overcome that. I'm not impressed by a woman easily. Not at all.
I went home that night completely frustrated. Again, I had choked. Like the old me would have.
This was a night I should have been feeling chuffed about my skydiving achievement and my personal journey thus far. Instead, skydiving felt like it was worth nothing. I had been through the hardest time of my damn life and achieved something great.
I gained 10 hours of inner peace from it. I felt ripped off.
All Sunday I was ruminating over it. I wasn't going to do anything about it at that stage.
However, I woke up the Monday morning knowing I was going to go through with it. I was going to go through the entire mental process I had done for skydiving and jump again, only in a different context.
This was me saying: "Society you always have ripped my dignity away as soon as I attain it. I've had enough. If you're threatening to totally cut off my balls, I'm fighting you tooth and nail for what's left. I dare you. F---ing bring it on."
I simply took matters into my own hands. If I had a 0.00005 per cent chance of making contact with Olivia, I was going to take that instead of having a zero per cent chance.
This was about reinforcing the lesson from skydiving. I was not going to let the fear from others, and peer pressure, dictate the situation. I understand this is a negative motivation, Sam but I'd simply had enough. That email was a last resort. I did try a Facebook search.
I stuck everything on the line, I was that fed up. My balls were on the guillotine and the blade was lowering ... This was my Michael Jordan moment. Game six in the '98 finals against Utah.
I composed my email. I went to push the button. I hesitated. I muttered to myself "F---ing push the button." (This would have been audible; on the inside I was screaming it.)
I pushed it ...
I stuck my head straight in my hands and went into a cold sweat. The email program started to choke and my PC started to whirl like a lawnmower.
The reason I composed the email in the way I did was to be respectful to Olivia firstly, to warm other people's days secondly, and to elicit compassion to hit my target.
I wrote that email from a place of soul-bearing honesty, not approval-seeking. I admitted I f---ed up to 4000 people. I didn't expect the court of public opinion to expand to 22 million people.
I immediately got phone calls.
"Why did you do this?"
"Totally inappropriate".
I got called into my bosses' office. I explained what happened as best I could. I immediately got responses.
Then a funny thing happened. Despite the initial shock, the replies I got back were positive on the whole. About 95 per cent of them.
A woman said: "I wish a guy would go to that sort of effort for me."
The response that sticks out the most is this: "I didn't expect it to go viral. Amazing. I wish you all the best with Olivia but regardless of what happens, I love your spirit. You have a strong one. Honour it."
I expected a few "tut tuts" and "Aw, isn't that sweet?" responses and for it to remain "in house".
How naive I was.
Prank calls then started. My work number was immediately cancelled and a new one set up. I was instructed not to reply to any of the responses. I got wind of my email going to the riotact at 1.45pm.
I forwarded it straight to our Values and Conduct section. I thought I was toast employment-wise. I had a recorded interview with them. I hid from nothing.
After I got back from the interview and sat at my desk, I saw it. Olivia had responded. The real Olivia. Her response was "Wow". She mentioned that she was sort of seeing somebody but was really flattered. She called me a dag for sending the email to the entire department. I couldn't reply at that stage, I was muzzled.
Mission accomplished. I did not fail.
I went back to my boss. I explained my thoughts. She said she knew I was mentally preparing for the worst case scenario but that it likely wouldn't result in termination.
That night, I was at my friends getting my legs massaged. Totally freaked out.
After my massage, I was pacing around the kitchen. Anita, my friend said "Steve, I can tell when you're not all right, you're not are you?"
I simply shot back "No."
Her reply was "Go and talk to Wes [my mate and her husband] now."
That's what I did. I hashed it out for an hour with him. It was tough. I then went out into the living room. The Channel Ten late news was on in the background. That's when I got wind it had gone national. I freaked out again.
I then told Anita. Thankfully, she advised me to stay at their place and not go home. I needed them at this stage. Obviously, I couldn't look at the media storm. An absolute frenzy.
I had the Tuesday off and hid out. Anita and Wes monitored the public sentiment: 75 per cent positive on the whole, they said.
I went back to work on the Wednesday.
All media requests in my inbox were nothing but respectful. For this I am appreciative. I did get the SMH contacting me. If I'm talking to any SMH journalist, it's you Sam. I respect your message and support everything you stand for.
During the period of time before I sent that message on Facebook to the first girl I mentioned, I realised how cold and empty I was inside and how isolated my disability had made me feel. I wasn't giving any warmth to others because I wouldn't let people get close enough to me. I thought I was a man and didn't need anybody to lean on. I had minimised my torment and pushed it down. This is why I never spoke about my disability.
What I learned from this is that if you're lacking something on the inside, you need to give it out to others. Even if it isn't returned in kind, it will make you feel happier inside.
The media storm over this whole thing has been a joke. I achieved my primary purpose before it broke national. Things got blown massively out of proportion.
Ninemsn had the wrong photo of me.
The Sunday Telegraph had an article featuring an Olivia Nasser. I have never met her. This was the number one clicked article on the news.com.au website.
Kerri-Anne Kennerley claimed to have found Olivia; whether it was Nasser or another one, I don't know.
If the "Olivia" quoted in media doesn't remember me it's because I look totally different with a shaved head and stubble compared to the Jedi photo and I've likely never met her.
The real Olivia most likely went underground as she wouldn't have wanted a part of the hype. She is seeing somebody else and needs to protect that. This is not another invitation to find her by the way. I have stayed silent whilst the media twisted themselves in knots.
I haven't really looked at much of the press, Sam. It's too overwhelming. The Olivia Nasser report alone disgusted me. I know I have to take the good with the bad.
I specifically logged into your blog to check if you had said anything about me. I sensed you would say something. Thanks for taking the middle ground and not completely sticking the boot in. You have illustrated why I respect your opinion. You're a good man.
I suppose my message can be interpreted as having romantic undertones. Respect and dignity were my main objectives.
I had the best of intentions, but I lit a fuse and the bomb exploded. I had more pure objectives than what the scuttlebutt suggested. I only wanted to make contact with her: you know, one step at a time.
Headlines of me being a "lovelorn public servant" are hyperbole.
I don't become impressed by a woman very easily. My self-worth does not hinge on their approval. This one was exceptional, however. And I do want to mend fences with the other person in this story.
I felt like I had to do what I did. Otherwise, skydiving would be forever tarnished and my mates would constantly refer back to Olivia and make me feel like shit.
I am a person that is different from the majority. I look at the world differently. I've had a different life with much adversity thrown in my path from a very young age. I listened to what other people told me I was worth. This shaped me into a very timid adult.
I have been going through a personal transformation the last three months. I learned that I was an unhappy person inside with many demons I had not come to terms with. Thus, I started a process to face these and kill them off.
That photo leaked to the press is the "old" me.
I look totally different now.
This revolves around me living my life as honestly as I can. People are too unsure of themselves today; especially men. I've had enough of peer pressure and the media stereotypes brainwashing males into submission. I'm as loathing of it as you are.
These messages had controlled me for long enough so I threw a punch at it. Society is cold and most people have to always wear a mask. This disgusts me.
People want acceptance but they aren't doing anything to get it. Instead, they walk around staring at the ground, unsure of themselves. I injected some warmth back into the place.
I wasn't taking any risks before and it was making me unhappy internally. I sought to redress this balance. And I am happier. The fact I stirred both sides of public opinion meant I took a real punt.
What this all boils down to [is] me not distinguishing the difference between controlled risk (skydiving) and blind risk. That email was blind risk. It was an error of judgment. I accept this. I made a mistake. To my employer and especially the innocent people caught up in this mess through photos and rumours, I apologise from the bottom of my heart.
I was simply standing my ground for the deeply traumatic process I have gone through. I took matters into my own hands, the "old" me would not have. My territory had been stepped on for the last time.
The uproar this caused astounded me. Certain pockets of society have been carrying on like I committed murder. I sent an email.
The fact I wrote that email so honestly was why it propelled to the level it did. That and I had a "captive audience" in Canberra to generate the buzz. It certainly unblocked the "emotional constipation" in this town. This emotional constipation is society-wide, not Canberra specific. This is not another invitation to bash the ACT. It gets rubbished enough.
Despite any perceived embarrassment in the media, life really has been no different for me. Not one person has sniggered and laughed at me in a mean way. I have a high degree of anonymity due to my appearance having changed.
My friends absolutely admire me. I'm a hero to them: a "Love God" a "Rebel for Love", "Love Guru", "Office Romeo", "Love Jedi" etc.
My name generates an instant reaction when mentioned. Girls look at me differently. I may not have got "Juliet" (if you believe the media spin) but this thing exploding viral has had massive positive spin-offs. I have inspired people.
My dad is going to have more of a dip at life. My aunty has said: "Maybe there is something to this counselling thing."
My story is not about "Romeo & Juliet", it is about every kid being bullied in the school yard. It is about teenage kids committing suicide because they feel worthless.
It is about people dealing with disability; those who cannot communicate their suffering and the families that care for these people tirelessly.
It is about telling peer pressure to go f--- itself. It's childish behaviour and it impacts our adult lives in ways we don't see.
It is about gender stereotypes (both of them) and social conditioning. It is about mental health and getting help if needed.
It is about telling people what they mean to us while life is good. Not when a personal crisis hits. Tomorrow isn't a guarantee for any of us.
It is about standing up to society and illustrating that it has lost its way. We live in a culture of fear. Society had dimmed my spirit for long enough.
I didn't expect to get in the news, Sam, but the fact is I have. This has been my journey. I have dealt with all of these elements. I have endured this and come out the other side.
I'm telling my side to stop the bullshit and telling disadvantaged people: "You can win. I am proof of this. But you must have a go to give yourself a fighting chance at a happy life."
There are no shortcuts. Happiness is not handed to you. Capability is developed by simply having a go. If you're "outcome orientated" you won't do the things you really want. If you believe in something enough, go and get it in the right way.
I went to a party last weekend. I spoke about some of the deeper meaning behind my email with my disability to a friend. His answer: "That email has put you back to where you should have been."
