NAME: Tara Rose*



AGE: 43

LIVES: Western Australia

TURNING POINT: Separating after 14 years of marriage

AFTER HOUSING COSTS HAS TO LIVE ON: $260 week

Tears of frustration, anxiety and bewilderment roll down my cheeks as I look at the colossal water bill that my real estate property manager has just sent through – $273 for two months. “Surely you have a water leak somewhere,” she said, before instructing me to do a water test. I do have water pressure issues in one half of the house at the moment, and perhaps there is a leak. At least that’s what my heart is hanging on to, because then I will get reimbursed and won’t have to pay the full amount.

My brain, however, is aware of the probability that my veggie garden and lawns – that I’ve taken great pains to establish and maintain, and water twice daily – are responsible for this increased consumption. Maybe the little inflatable pool that I bought on special for $50 over the summer is also a contributing factor. Thankfully as we trek through the winter months, the water usage for outside will decrease a little, though that bill still looms. But then the children will want long hot showers and baths.

Since my marriage broke down three-and-a-half years ago, the struggle has been colossal

Again, the reality of constant financial struggle kicks in. I allowed my kids some fun cooling off over the hot WA summer, but now I’m paying the price, quite literally. I used water to develop my garden and again, I’m hit with a financial burden. But that sacrifice means a small amount of fresh vegetables and some sustainability. Hopefully the more vegetables I grow, the less often I’ll have to recite my usual mantra of “I’m not hungry” or “I ate earlier” when the kids ask why I’m not eating. It will also mean a slightly reduced grocery bill.

I do take some comfort in knowing that the vegetables that have gone into tonight’s dinner for the kids are home grown, freshly picked and healthy. I can still smell the soil. I have to take comfort in this, otherwise the sacrifice is all consuming. And I have to confess: I find my garden incredibly therapeutic and a source of much needed relaxation.

Since my marriage broke down three-and-a-half years ago, the struggle has been colossal. The personal and financial obstacles I’ve had to overcome have been infinite. But each day is a step closer to freedom and independence, hopefully. I can only hope.

I have three teenagers who have been stuck in the quagmire that has been the breakdown of our family. They have struggled too, emotionally and socially, but also in terms of their basic needs being met. Two of the teens have some special needs, and with no family in the state to help out, it’s been physically draining and emotionally exhausting, especially with the added costs of therapy and specialist schooling.

I'm trying to find a better future for my children and myself

As a mum who is generally running on empty, it’s debilitating. I often don’t eat enough, as I make sure the kids are fed first. Sleep often eludes me, as I lie awake for countless hours wondering how I’m going to pay the rent and bills and provide my growing kids with new winter wardrobes as the temperatures start to drop and cold sets in. I’ll make do with op-shop clothes for myself.

My secondhand car that my friends bought me broke down two weeks ago and now sits idle in the driveway – the car for which I desperately struggled to save $260 to purchase new tyres for last month; necessary at the time, but now a waste of money. The car will cost a few thousand dollars to repair and while being on a benefit qualifies me for a no-interest loan, I can’t conceive how I can afford to make repayments.

So I lie awake wondering what else I can I sacrifice to make the repayments to get the loan. The kids don’t understand that when they ask for new shoes or jeans, the answer is more often than not, “no”.

‘Things might be a little easier if I sold the horses. But then the sacrifice would be our mental health.’ Photograph: David Dare Parker/The Guardian

It must be difficult for them to understand how we were a comfortable two-parent family, even well off to a degree, that could purchase things without much thought, and now I’m heading a single-parent household with extremely limited financial resources.

Amid all of this, I’m trying desperately to find time to study to gain another qualification so I can hopefully provide a better future for my children and myself – one that will allow me to buy new clothes in winter and use the air conditioning in summer and not have to worry about watering the garden.

My study time is usually very late at night when the kids are asleep, often running into the early hours of the morning, taxing my sleep even more. Another sacrifice that will hopefully pay off in the end by helping me to be able to provide for their school and tertiary studies – because even public schools for a Year 12 ATAR student run at a steep price, never mind the specialist schooling for the other two.

My energy is zapped further when I think of the upcoming weekend workload. Every weekend I work to cover the costs of keeping two horses – one that I have owned since well before the separation and one that my teenage daughter is now working to pay off.

I know that people think I should sell the horses. But the truth is that since the marriage fell apart and I became a single mum living below the poverty line, it’s my horse that has saved me and kept me sane, providing light in my darkest hours and teaching me how to be me again. My daughter was riding him through the marital breakdown and he was her therapy as much as he was mine. He’s now ageing and ill, so she is working to pay off a horse of her own – her dream come true.

But horses are costly to keep, so I volunteer for a couple of hours two evenings a week, and from 7am to 6pm every Saturday and Sunday, feeding, grooming and teaching at an equestrian centre, in return for their board.

The physical work is exhausting, that’s this mum’s sacrifice, and it’s one I’m prepared to make. It’s my daughter’s passion, her love, her life, and she’s shown real talent, winning and placing well in competitions, so maybe it’s more. I just wish she would understand that when she asks for things to be done and I reply with “I’m tired, so not today honey” or “I’m sorry, I can’t afford that this week”.

Things might be a little easier if I sold the horses. But then the sacrifice would be our mental health and her dreams and desires. That’s not a sacrifice I’m prepared to make.

*Name has been changed