Self Made

“There’s no map for becoming who you’re meant to be. You stumble, you fall, you rise again, and somewhere between the fear and the fire, you find a courage that can’t be taught. That’s what being self made really is, building light from the dark, one quiet step at a time.”

“I built it all from nothing, not for applause, but because no one else was going to do it for me.”

I wasn’t born into ease. I didn’t have a family that cushioned my falls or parents waiting with open arms when things went wrong. I came from a small town in Northern Ireland where fear sat quietly in every home. The Troubles were the backdrop of my childhood, a constant hum of unease. It was a chaotic world that taught me two things early, how to read danger, and how to depend on no one but myself.

I remember knowing, even as a girl, that I didn’t quite fit the life mapped out for me. There was always this quiet restlessness, a whisper that there had to be more, more light, more freedom, more of who I could become. I learned early that no one was coming to rescue me. Deep down, I knew I had the drive and the need to seek something bigger, a life elsewhere in the world, one that I would shape with my own two hands.

When I finally left, I left everything behind, the familiar streets, the voices, the history that had both held and haunted me. I arrived in Australia with no safety net, no one waiting at the other end, and no plan beyond survival. I started from scratch, new country, new rules, new version of myself. Australia was my blank page, and I wrote on it with everything I had.

But starting again without backup isn’t romantic. It’s raw. It’s nights counting coins, jobs you take because you can’t afford not to, and an ache that sits just beneath the surface, the ache of knowing that no one is coming to save you. I’ve had moments of rummaging down the back of the sofa for loose change, praying it would be enough to buy bread or milk until payday. Those are the memories that keep you humble, the ones that never leave you no matter how far you climb.

People often think “self made” means a millionaire, a headline, a company in your name. But that’s not what it means to me. Being self made is surviving against the odds. It’s learning how to make a home out of uncertainty. It’s holding yourself together when you’re breaking, because you don’t have the luxury of falling apart.

There were times I tried to fill the emptiness with the wrong things, distractions, noise, people who looked like comfort but weren’t. I learned the hard way that escape and peace aren’t the same thing. I learned that even love can wound when it’s built on broken foundations. I’ve been married and lost myself in the process. I’ve had moments that looked perfect from the outside but were quietly collapsing underneath.

But here’s the truth, every collapse taught me how to rebuild differently. I became my own safety net. Every job I’ve ever held, every success I’ve carved out, every step forward, it’s been built from sheer persistence. I didn’t have someone pulling strings or making introductions. I had to walk into rooms and earn my place in them. And that does something to you. It makes you tougher, yes, but it also makes you aware. You see through pretense, through privilege disguised as effort.

I’ve sat at dinner tables where people speak casually about the help they had, the networks they were born into, the “luck” that carried them through. I smile, sip my soft drink, and think of the years I spent learning to hold my own without any of that. My version of luck was waking up one more morning determined to try again.

There’s a kind of pride that comes with that, not loud or boastful, but steady. I don’t need to tell the world what I’ve survived. I carry it quietly, in the way I move through my days. In the way I show up for others. In the way I work, consistent, committed, resilient.

People sometimes mistake independence for strength. They see the woman who handles everything and assume it’s effortless. What they don’t see are the private moments, the loneliness of having no fallback, the fatigue that comes from always being the responsible one, the silent questions you ask yourself when no one’s around. There’s a deep ache in doing everything alone, but there’s also a deep peace that comes from knowing you can.

When I look back now, I realise I’ve reinvented myself more times than I can count. I’ve risen, fallen, rebuilt, and risen again. But this time, the rising feels different. It isn’t about fire or fury. It’s about acceptance. About knowing I don’t have to prove my worth through motion anymore.

The girl who left Ireland was running from fear. The woman I am today is grounded in her own power. I’ve built a life that’s mine, not perfect, not polished, but honest. These days, I wake up to the soft light spilling over the Gold Coast hinterland, my little apartment nestled inside a private, secure country club estate. My balcony overlooks the pool, the palms swaying just beyond, and every time I stand there with a coffee in hand, I remind myself, this is mine. I built this from nothing but belief, work, and faith.

I no longer envy those who had a head start. They had comfort; I had character. They had guidance; I had grit. I wouldn’t trade what I’ve learned for any of it. Because when you’ve built yourself from the ground up, no one can take that from you.

Sometimes people say, “Remember where you came from.” I smile, because I never forgot. My past lives in me, not as a wound, but as a reminder. A reminder that everything I have, I earned. That the peace I live in today was built on years of chaos and courage.

Being self made doesn’t mean having everything. It means having yourself. Knowing that you can lose it all tomorrow and still be okay, because you’ve done it before and you know how to start again.

I’ve made peace with the fact that I did it all alone. Not out of pride, but out of truth. It was never easy, but it was mine. Every choice, every step, every scar. And even in my most desperate moments, when I felt completely alone, I still believed in something greater than me, a quiet higher power that carried me when my own strength ran out. That belief became my anchor, the invisible hand that guided me forward when I couldn’t see the way.

And that, to me, is what self made really looks like.
Not the millionaire, but the survivor.
Not the fame, but the freedom.
Not the noise, but the quiet knowing,
that I built this life,
and I did it all by myself.

If you recognise yourself in these words, know that you are never truly alone. There’s a quiet, steady power within and beyond you, and when you lean into it, it will meet you exactly where you are.

From the heart, Nicky Montgomery, Mind and Body Alchemist