24/06/2026
Two years ago I was forced to walk away from policing.
Today these arrived.
A National Police Service Medal.
A National Medal.
A Certificate of Service recognising 10 years and 3 months with the Queensland Police Service.
Itâs strange receiving them now. It kind of feels like a participation award, especially when 10 years service is summarised in 6 lines.
For a long time I measured my worth by a badge, a rank, a station, or the job I was doing.
Looking at the certificate today, it lists where I worked, the medals I received, and the dates I served.
What it doesnât show are the people I met, the lives I crossed paths with, the jobs that stayed with me, or the personal cost that sometimes comes with service.
The truth is that many of us leave carrying things nobody can see and for a while I struggled with that. I felt like I had lost part of my identity. I feared my wife wouldnât love the man I was being forced to become, worried my kids wouldnât see me as their superhero anymore. A lot of it was ego and pride but so many nights I spent in the dark thinking Iâd never be good enough for them again.
Thankfully, and slowly, over the last two years Iâve realised something important:
I wasnât defined by the uniform.
The values that led me to serve are still here.
The desire to help people is still here.
The willingness to keep getting back up when life knocks you down is still here.
The chapter ended. The person didnât.
To anyone who has had to walk away from a career, a dream, or a version of themselves they thought would last forever:
You are more than the title you once held.
Be kind to yourself đ