THE PIECES ARE ALL IN PLACE
IRL MAIL #13 —
30.01.2026
IRL MAIL #13 — 30.01.2026
Sometimes it takes you 10 solid years to put all the pieces together.
One day you have to recognise you’ve done it.
I can confidently say: it took me ten full years to put all the pieces in place.
I've had a checklist in my mind since the beginning of my adult life of all the things I would need to get properly started. Over the years, I thought I had a lot of them done and ticked off, but nothing fit together quite right. The dreams I wanted to fulfill were always just a little out of reach. I looked to others who seemed like they had it all figured out (spoiler: they did not) and wondered how they had arrived there before me. In hindsight, their pieces just fit together a little earlier.
I started writing this newsletter series in 2020, right before the pandemic started, and it went on an indefinite hiatus in 2021 as my life fell apart after calling off my engagement. I've wanted to get back to writing it all these years, and now it feels right. The pieces are all in place, and it's time to do the work I've been wanting to do for a decade.
This particular email is about all those pieces, why they didn't work at various points in time, and why they all fit now. I think it's important to share this complete picture with you instead of a checklist of basic self-improvement with no sense of intersectionality or understanding of how real life goes.
When things aren't all working the way you want them to, it's hard to pinpoint exactly why. In sharing this list, I hope it might help you spot the things in your own life that are preventing you from achieving what you want and living the life you dream about. This is not a criticism by any means, it's just a way to see where you are and where you could be.
This list operates in a similar way to the Hierarchy of Needs, where each step requires the one above it to be fulfilled before it can be fulfilled. If you need a refresher, see the original Hierarchy of Needs below:
Physiological Needs: Food, water, rest, and shelter for basic survival.
Safety Needs: Security, health, stability, and protection from harm.
Love and Belonging Needs: Connection through relationships, friendship, and community.
Esteem Needs: Confidence built from achievement, respect, and recognition.
Self-Actualization Needs: Growth, purpose, and reaching your full potential.
Of course, I still have so much change ahead of me, and many more dreams to fulfill. But I've finally built the foundation. It took ten years. I leave you with this: when you've finally put all the pieces in place, the final thing you need to do is recognise it, and get on with it.
Ruby
RUBY’S PIECES or the PERSONAL HIERARCHY OF NEEDS
[01] Mental Health
Baby Ruby vs. Ruby now
The journey towards manageable mental health took far longer than a decade. Without going into too much detail, I struggled with severe mental illness from around age 13. I was in active depression, anxiety, severe insomnia, and anorexia for nearly 8 years, and I've been in weekly, to fortnightly, to monthly therapy now for 15 years. I've tried every medication under the sun, I've tried all the therapies and holistic approaches. I've tried most of the unhealthy coping mechanisms you can think of, and they work for a time. What actually works is simply making the choice to stay alive every day for long enough that the tiny incremental shifts towards the light amount to something noticeable. These shifts only happened for me with a dedicated combination of therapy, the right medication, beloved media to pore over instead of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and going outside.
When your mind is this troubled, you really can't cope with anything other than survival. The long journey of emerging out of that time felt like crawling through honey. I distinctly remember a day around my 24th birthday when I took a selfie in the mirror of my first solo apartment and saw a person who was actually smiling. I didn't quite know exactly when I got there, but only from that point did it feel like I was truly starting to recover.
Mental health is not a linear path. Making a conscious choice to keep pushing through it is what will get you through the very hard and very long journey towards recovery and day-to-day management. I'm by no means perfectly happy all the time, and I still to this day take antidepressants and go to therapy once a month to manage my mental health because that's what I need to stay healthy and well. But I have weathered the storm and come out on the other side. I recommend you stick around too.
[02] Relationship
Ruby & their partner at the premier of their first short film
Long story short, I was in a high-school-sweetheart-long-term-dual-severe-mental-illness-co-dependent-8-year-long-and-also-literally-got-engaged-and-then-called-off-the-wedding-relationship until I was 24. A lot of good memories, but objectively pretty unhealthy, and did sort of wreck my brain chemistry for a good while there.
I didn't have a good model of a normal healthy romantic relationship for a full 1/3 of my life and had to do a lot of work to undo the things I'd learned in order to eventually get into another one. I was single for a year or so and made a conscious effort to meet people and go on little dates and be open to new experiences. I did not enjoy that process and met a lot of straight-up dangerous freaks and huge jerks and fuckboys, all of which contributed to a major learning curve about dating in the "app" era. Tinder was invented years into my first relationship, Hinge and the rest long after that. It was completely unfamiliar to me. I knew in my heart I wanted to find someone. I like being alone well enough, but ultimately I wanted a best friend and collaborator and person who I could call mine and who could call me theirs. I'm an absolutely hopeless romantic after all.
I finally met that person in 2021 - surprisingly on Hinge! - and found myself in the deep end of learning a whole new way of loving. I had so many of my own triggers and traumas and bad behaviours to grow from that were only teased out as we moved out of the honeymoon phase and started getting serious. I'm deeply grateful that we were both so committed to building something together and cultivating our best selves. I had already done a lot of mental health work, but didn't know I had issues with attachment styles. I'd gained some confidence in myself, but had lost a lot of friends and needed a lot of reassurance in new social settings. I had a very strong sense of identity, but was also on the precipice of some big life changes. It was a huge deal.
It was hard at first because I had so much to unlearn from my only other big relationship, but now it doesn't feel so eclipsed. I came out of my shell and built myself day by day to be more confident and happy and mentally well. In the four years we've spent together, we've tackled so much personal growth, we've moved multiple times, we've collaborated on two short films together and intend on making more. Every day my partner and I raise the bar for each other, and we spend all our time laughing.
I think it’s important to mention as well that I think imperfect and broken people (see: everyone) deserve to be with someone who sees them both for who they are and who they want to be. You don’t have to wait to have it all together to find someone to love. In fact, I think it’s our lovers who should be the ones championing us to grow into the best versions of ourselves and not expecting a flawless and complete package from day one.
Monogamous relationships aren’t the be-all and end-all either, but I knew it was something I wanted in my life: A partner and collaborator who I could share my creative pursuits with, and who encourages me to strive for my greatest goals. He knows my best life is one with him. I am so grateful to have that every day.
[03] Car
The CR-V in all it’s glamping glory - not my actual car but the same model.
It took me a very long time to get my driver's license. I had done 100 out of 120 requisite learner's hours, witnessed a horrific car accident on the street and as a result developed an impenetrable mental block of anxiety towards driving that put an immediate stop to my hours and took 10 years to undo. What finally got me over the line was moving out of Sydney and suddenly needing to go places that necessitated a car. A basic trip to the shops was suddenly impossible on the bus. Going to Wollongong Officeworks to print out zines was a minimum 2-hour round trip.
Since I was living with my parents again on their property down south, they were more than willing to pick up the old driving instructor hat. I was all of a sudden back in the car, re-learning how to drive and facing my mental block head-on. I'm really lucky I was raised in a road trip family, so long-distance driving was no big object to me. It was the inner city streets with pedestrians and bike riders and kids not looking at the road that stressed me out.
It was mainly my mum who gave me the big push I needed to try again. She put in so many hours with me, driving around our little town over and over again, practising parking in local parking lots, trying to perfect my curbside stops in back streets and clocking in some night driving hours after family dinner.
By pure coincidence, around the week I was about to go for my P's test, my grandfather called my mother and asked how I was. Mum naturally couldn't wait to tell him I was finally off to get my license and— what's this? My grandad's neighbour was selling his old CR-V for a thousand bucks? Did I want it?
Yes. Yes I did want it.
It was pretty dinged up and needed some work, but a thousand dollars for a car whose make and model was known for its hardy engine and had less than 100,000kms on it is an absolute steal! (In car world this is ridiculously low usage for a vehicle that's 25 years old, meaning it still has a tonne of life left in the engine). The particular model also featured a pull-out trestle table for early 2000's glamping in style. I don't think it could have been better cosmic timing.
I got my P's, we drove a rental car down to Victoria to pick it up, and drove back to Sydney and onto Queensland to do a family road trip straight away with me behind the wheel. Since then, that car has been my ticket to freedom. I can drive to Melbourne alone in a day to see my best friend, I can take my stock to zine fairs, I can buy old furniture on marketplace and strap it to my roof racks. My partner and I can drive anywhere we want for a little getaway.
I can't recommend more highly that you face this fear if it's one you're struggling with. My life improved tenfold when I got my car and license. Suddenly the world was closer to me and I had the power to go and do whatever I wanted. I never envisioned myself as a person who drove and had resigned myself to buses and trains. I'm so glad I was proved incorrect.
I also have to shout out this YouTube channel who got me prepped for the actual P's driving test. I got 97% on my first try. Thanks Jim. And more importantly, thanks Mum.
[04] Housing
Ruby’s 2nd solo apartment, a beautiful heritage Art Deco building
Obviously needing housing security goes without saying, and I've lived in a lot of beautiful little apartments over the years. Pictured is the "Mont Clair," a heritage Art Deco building in Darlinghurst I lived in solo during the 2nd lockdown. I'd spent a long time in Darlinghurst, first as a high schooler, then as a young adult. It was the first place I ever called home as a grown-up. I had deeply entrenched my sense of identity there. During the lockdowns, a lot of people moved away, restaurants shut down, cafes closed their doors. I suddenly felt more alone than ever.
I had decided to move to Marrickville for a short time around when I met my partner, but that didn't feel right either. Our respective leases were coming to an end and we decided to move away from our homes in Sydney an hour down south in my parents' granny flat for a sea change.
We had a great two years there, lots of swims and dinners and walks. We watched hundreds of movies, saw hundreds of beautiful summer afternoons, got hundreds of trains to and from the city, and spent hundreds of hours wondering if we'd made the right decision.
The housing piece fell into place for me after my partner and I realised we needed the city after all. After we moved back to Sydney, everything shifted for my partner and me. We felt happier close to all the parts of the city we loved, we felt like we had made a conscious choice to come back to the city we had grown up in, we started prioritising the friends who made the effort for us while we lived far away, we had the freedom to collaborate on creative work together. It felt like we had finally landed somewhere together and truly felt settled.
It took us 6 weeks of couch surfing with a friend to find the exact right place we wanted (which everyone said was going to be impossible) and actually get approved for it. Competing against 25-odd couples every time we went to an inspection, we got our current apartment because we happened to be first on the list of applications. First in, literally first served.
This was the dream list of my non-negotiables:
✅ 1 Bedroom with a separate study - so my partner could have a space to work.
✅ Internal Laundry - So I could just do laundry when I wanted to (11pm).
✅ Bathtub - Because my chronic pain is worse when I don't have access to one.
✅ Car Space - So I could cut worrying about parking out of my life entirely.
✅ Pet friendly - So I could get a dog once all the pieces were in place.
✅ Wooden floors - my partner's one and only, very reasonable preference.
✅ Max budget of $700, preferably $650 - Not too cheap, not breaking the bank.
✅ In a cute walkable area close to shops and transport - I want to feel connected and able to get around on foot to a cafe and some local shops and restaurants without relying on my car after two years of having to drive everywhere.
I waited until I found the exact home I wanted, and it meant couch surfing for a while and getting rejected from 10+ houses that were also perfectly suitable and ticked all the boxes. Not compromising on this was tough to explain to a lot of people, especially in a housing crisis. Without a shadow of a doubt, if I hadn't stuck to my vision for the home I wanted to live in, I would not have been able to set the rest of these pieces in motion.
[05] Studio
Ruby’s current studio
When I lived in Darlinghurst I was lucky enough to get my first studio very early on. I had a full-time, completely shithouse but surprisingly well-paying little marketing job that allowed me to afford the tiny corner nook of a music & instrument studio above the old American Apparel store on Oxford Street. This was 2015 mind you. It was a huge blessing very early on in my career. I would get the bus 15 minutes each way from my office in Martin Place to my studio in Darlinghurst on my hour-long lunch break just to spend 30 minutes in there, doing whatever work I could on whatever projects I had dreamed up. I had absolutely no other disposable income, but I at least had a place to be. The lease there came to an end after a year as the building got bought out for redevelopment. That was a huge blow as I had started freelancing and wasn't earning enough at the time for a real art studio rental, especially not in Darlinghurst since I didn't have a car.
I didn't have a space again until 2022 when I was working for an events company, also shithouse, but well-paying. It was down the road from The Rizzeria, a riso studio that was occupying a room at the Joynton Avenue Creative Centre. I printed there often with my friend Issy who sometimes freelanced with me at the events company. We'd walk over together after work and spend the early evening printing. Issy pointed out a space had come up and the rent was subsidised. I had just enough cash saved to pay the deposit and the first month of rent. It was a miracle. A private room in a beautiful building, not too far from work - I was living down South at this point but I had a car and could drive to Sydney on weekends for full studio days. I moved in about two weeks before the organisation that managed the lease collapsed, and by pure coincidence and badly managed paperwork, I had signed a lease with a 50% rent discount on a building about to be repossessed by the City of Sydney. It was a turbulent time, but the City had its processes to go through and allowed all the tenants to keep their leases as they were for a year. A full year of half-price rent was a godsend and I vowed to make the most of it.
A year later and the City of Sydney turned around and did what local governments do: they kicked us all out in place of another grants program they'd decided was a better use of the subsidy. Without going too much into it, it completely sucked for everyone in the building. We were all sole operators who otherwise could not afford a commercial lease. Finding a new space was going to be hard. At the time I was really reluctant to share as well. Given I'd spent all my recent time in a private space, I was worried about open-plan spaces and people I didn't trust using tools of mine that could potentially injure them - especially after I had injured myself very badly on my guillotine (a story for another time!).
Lucky for me Issy came to my rescue again and told me a spot had come up in the studio building she was in. It was small but it would do for now and eventually someone would move and everyone would do a swap around. I nabbed the tiny space and when the swap around came, it was a spot in Issy's very own room that came up for grabs, and I was there to take it. Since then, along with our third studio bestie Ella, we've built a little shared studio that couldn't make more sense for us three. It's brought so much daily joy just having people to chat to and laugh with, but it's also given us more space to invest in bigger tools we wouldn't have otherwise been able to buy. Sharing and having a little community to lean on couldn't be more important and I can't believe it took so long for me to learn.
So what does it all mean?
Ruby, completely alone on a solo trip in Japan, ice cream in hand, about to get on a huge rollercoaster and have the time of their life
I've already rambled on for a while, and I could get far more granular about the journey so far. I wrote this series of stories for you because I found myself recently just chugging along, feeling good, energised and capable.
And this felt… suspiciously easy.
I came to the realisation that everything I've been dreaming about, I have been subconsciously working towards for a decade. Doing the mental health work allowed me to find a wonderful partner to share this life with, facing my fears allowed me to buy a ticket to complete freedom of travel and access, cultivating a home in a place I love, and chose to be in, allowed me to land in just the right place to find a perfect creative space and have the confidence to let new people in. I've been slowly but surely putting one foot in front of the other, and building the life I want one brick at a time. It doesn't just look like a big pile of bricks anymore.
I want to be clear, the culmination of all this work hasn't achieved the Capital B “Big Dreams” yet, but it's finally allowed me to reach the start line. It took ten years to get to the start line of the life I've always imagined for myself.
So here's me telling you: I am starting to live it. The pieces are all in place, and I am starting.
Header image sourced from the Public Domain Image Archive / Internet Archive / University of Toronto Libraries
Written 31.01.2026 — First published 07.02.2026 via IRLMAIL
