How Boxing Saved My Life

I didn’t plan to fall in love with boxing. I wasn’t looking for it , I was just trying to survive.

For years, I was caught in the cycle of a domestic violence relationship. Abuse doesn’t always start with bruises or shouting. For me, it started with little comments, subtle control, and walking on eggshells. That’s the tension-building phase, the quiet storm where you start doubting yourself.

Then came the explosions: arguments that turned into threats, words that cut deeper than any punch, and moments where I felt completely powerless. After the storm, there was the honeymoon phase, the apologies, the “I’ll never do it again,” the gifts and affection that gave me hope things could change. Then, calm. Almost normal. Until the cycle began again.

He also had drinking problems, and that made everything worse. Alcohol gave him another excuse, another weapon, another reason for the outbursts. I used to tell myself, “Maybe if he stops drinking, things will get better.” But they didn’t.

I reached out to a therapist, desperate to find a way to “fix” things. In my head, I thought, “If I can change myself, maybe he’ll change too.” I’ll never forget her words: “I don’t need to be speaking to you. You currently have such low self-worth you can’t even see that you are not the problem … I need to be speaking to him.”

But even then, I didn’t fully believe it. Even with a professional telling me he was the problem, in my head, it was still all me. I was broken. I was the one to blame.

When boxing came into my life, I was at rock bottom, I was broke, my money was all tied up in assets, and I was sitting at 58kg with a severe eating disorder, punishing my body daily. But when I stepped into the gym, something shifted. Through boxing, I wanted to prove to myself that I was stronger than the lies I’d been telling myself. The drive and determination I found was like nothing I’d ever felt before.

I was so ashamed to tell anyone that I had lost everything, was homeless, and mentally I was not okay. My boss, Izzy, was the first to come to my rescue, clothing me because I had lost so much weight from not being able to eat in days and connecting me with a free counselling service. I then called my best friend, Bec, explaining that I had no money and nowhere to sleep. That was the first time I truly understood how quickly women can end up in crisis accommodation. That moment, that clarity… is now why I do what I do, working with women and refugees to help those in situations like mine.

And then there was David, my colleague, who I will never forget. He handed me an envelope with $1,000 and said, “I know what you are going through and I wanted to lend you this to get by and back up on your feet.” The true definition of a hero, the kindest, most understanding human I have ever come across.

Fast forward, I finally got back up and on my feet, I went back to work and trained to do a corporate fight to raise money for charity and…. here comes the silver lining, after my corporate fight I had an opportunity to turn pro.

Five years later, I have won two titles, travelled the world, and discovered a new purpose. I stood not as a victim, but as a voice. I realised my fight wasn’t just in the ring, it was for women everywhere who had been silenced, broken, and made to believe they weren’t enough.

In 2022, I founded It’s Her Foundation to support females from disadvantaged communities, I advocate for women experiencing domestic violence, and I also now stand as a women’s health advocate.

It’s taken me many years, a lot of deep healing, and a career of getting punched for a living. But when I tell you boxing saved my life, I mean it. From the 58kg girl laying in a hospital bed to the strong and empowering 70kg woman I am today - Thank you, boxing, for saving me.