Amy Campbell

Harriet an i together xxxxx

Today it was just me and my beautiful Harriet 🌿❤️ 5 km through the forest on way and turn around and go back to the car 10km all up Just the two of us. Walking, talking, laughing, stopping to take in the trees and the quiet around us. But to me, it was so much more than a walk. There was a time when I never knew when I would get another ordinary moment like this with my daughter. So today, every step felt precious.Today, walking beside her through that forest, I looked at my daughter and felt incredibly grateful. Because sometimes you don’t need grand gestures or perfect circumstances. Sometimes healing looks like two sets of footsteps on a bush track. Sometimes rebuilding trust looks like a conversation while walking beneath the trees. Sometimes strength is simply getting up, putting one foot in front of the other and continuing forward together. And today, we walked 10km Not just along a forest track, but a little further along our journey back to each other. 🌿❤️ I can’t change the things that have happened. I can’t give Harriet back the moments we’ve lost. But I can make every moment we have now count. I can show her that I’m here. I can listen. I can walk beside her. And I can love her with everything I have. My girl. My youngest. My last born. My heart. One step at a time, we’ll keep walking forward together. ❤️🌿 Share

FAMILY

My beautiful girls, Jamie and Harriet ❤️ My oldest daughter and my youngest daughter. Two completely different chapters of my life, but two pieces of my heart that I could never live without. Jamie, my firstborn, my beautiful girl. You will always hold that special place in my heart as my first baby, the one who made me a mum. ❤️ And Harriet, my youngest, my beautiful girl. Our journey has been one of the hardest things I have ever had to walk through. There have been things said, things that I believe were untrue, and circumstances that have created so much pain and separation. But through all of it, the love between Harriet and me has remained strong. Our bond is pure. It is built on years of love, memories, cuddles, laughter, tears and being there for each other. No paperwork, no circumstances and no words from anyone else can change what I carry in my heart for my daughter. Harriet, you are my everything. ❤️ This photo of us in Sydney means more to me than people could ever understand. When I look at it, I see my beautiful girl. I see the love between a mum and her daughter. I see a bond that has been tested beyond words but has never disappeared. I am incredibly proud to be Mum to both of you. My girls, my heart, my greatest loves. No matter what life throws at us, you will always be my daughters and I will always love you with everything I have. Some bonds are simply too deep to be broken. ❤️🥹 Share

MY JOURNEY

My name is Amy Campbell, and my story is one of survival, resilience, recovery and a lifelong fight to protect the people I love.

My childhood was changed forever by the Milperra massacre. I was only eight years old when my father died, and from that point forward, life was never the same. As a young girl, I experienced sexual abuse at the hands of my stepfather, something no child should ever have to endure. That trauma followed me throughout my life and affected my mental health, my relationships and the way I learned to cope with the world around me.

As I grew older, I experienced abusive relationships, difficult circumstances, court battles and years of trying to simply survive. For a long time, I self medicated with alcohol. It wasn’t because I didn’t care about my life or my children. It was because I didn’t know how to carry the weight of everything I had experienced.

Eventually, I reached a point where I knew something had to change.

Alcoholics Anonymous became a massive part of my recovery. The AA community in Bathurst became a place that genuinely helped save my life. It gave me somewhere I could walk through the door exactly as I was, without judgement, and begin learning how to live differently.

On 10 March 2027, I will reach two years of absolute sobriety.

But recovery isn’t about perfection.

It is about progress.

Mental health is something I deal with every single day. Some days are harder than others, but I have learned that I don’t need to have everything figured out at once. Recovery is progress, one step at a time, one day at a time and sometimes one hour at a time.

It’s about getting through that day, making the next right choice and continuing to move forward.

Throughout this journey, Justin has never given up on me. When I couldn’t see the person I was underneath my trauma, my mental health struggles and my mistakes, he did. He saw me when I couldn’t see myself.

He has helped me walk one step at a time, reminding me that I am more than my worst days and more than the things I have been through. He has reminded me that there is still a person underneath the pain, the anxiety and the struggles. He has stood beside me while I have worked through some of the hardest parts of my life and has continued to believe in the person I am becoming.

That support has meant more to me than words can explain.

I don’t expect perfection from myself anymore. I recognise progress. Every sober day, every difficult day I get through, every time I reach out instead of shutting down, and every time I choose to keep going is another step forward.

Two years of sobriety isn’t about being perfect. It is about two years of choosing life, choosing recovery and choosing to keep moving forward.

I became a mother of seven, and protecting my children became one of the most important things in my life. I have tried to give my children the love, safety and opportunities that I didn’t always have myself.

Then came the most devastating chapter of my life, Harriet leaving my care.

The separation from Harriet has had an enormous emotional impact on me and on our family. I believe DCJ has fundamentally misunderstood important parts of our circumstances and, in doing so, an innocent family has suffered dramatically.

I know I am not perfect. I have never claimed to be.

But there is a huge difference between being imperfect and being an unsafe parent.

I have spent my life surviving trauma, facing my own mental health struggles, confronting my past and doing the work required to become healthier. I have sought help. I have embraced recovery. I have stayed sober. I have continued to fight for my children.

My greatest fear is that the system can sometimes see a person’s history without seeing the person they have fought so hard to become.

I know what it feels like to be a frightened child who doesn’t have a voice. I know what trauma can do to a person. I know what addiction can look like. I know what recovery looks like. And I know that mental health isn’t something you simply fix once and never think about again.

It is daily.

It is progress.

It is one step at a time.

It is getting through today.

My life has not been defined by the abuse I suffered, the mistakes I made, the alcohol I used to numb my pain or the court battles I have endured.

It is defined by the fact that I am still here.

I am sober. I am recovering. I am learning. I am fighting. And I am still standing.

Most importantly, I am still a mother who loves her children more than anything and will continue to advocate for them and for the importance of understanding trauma, mental health, recovery and the human being behind every case file.

Because sometimes the person who looks broken on paper is actually the person who has fought the hardest to rebuild their life.

Share