We’ll Get Together Then

Cat's in the Cradle

Author’s Note

Happy Sunday, Chain-Breakers… All 250 of You!

Just last week, I was aiming for 200 subscribers, and now we've welcomed 64 new members to our community in just seven days. That's absolutely incredible! Let's keep the momentum going!

Your support and engagement mean the world to me. Thank you for being part of this journey. A huge thank you to everyone for your engagement over the past week. People never cease to surprise me with what they say and the perspectives they bring. None of us truly knows what's going on in each other's heads unless we speak up. So, speak up. Share your thoughts, your take, your truth. I soak it all in and shape it into something new. That's where these pieces come from. You.

This week, Lauren Hyland left a lovely comment on Just Press Play: “You’re incredibly talented at articulating what we already know, but are too busy to remember.”

That line really resonated with me. Because it's true. We all know this stuff deep down. The things I write about aren't groundbreaking discoveries. They're reminders. Gentle nudges. I just apply my perspective and unique experiences. Quite consistently, someone says something that flips a switch, and suddenly I'm off, sprinting to the keyboard with a fresh idea.

This week, I was particularly moved by a message from a fellow writer, Sar x , regarding my piece Big Boys Do Cry. She wrote:

“Stephen, thank you for sharing something so profoundly raw, honest, and human. This piece isn’t just a personal story—it’s a window into the lived experience of pain, redemption, and the long, brutal walk back to self-belief. You didn’t just write a narrative—you poured your truth out in a way that strips away ego and invites connection. The way you frame time as not a healer, but a space where pain festers or settles, is so painfully accurate. Your words around waiting—the kind that breaks you before anything even happens—are going to resonate deeply with anyone who’s felt stuck in the limbo of uncertainty. You give voice to feelings so many of us struggle to name.

What struck me most is how you balanced shame and accountability with strength and hope. This isn’t a post about playing victim—it’s a declaration that growth often happens in the darkest, most uncomfortable places. Your vulnerability becomes a kind of courage, and the way you speak about your daughter, your regrets, and your ongoing fight to rebuild is deeply moving. That final line—‘Stay Unshackled’—hits harder because it comes from someone who knows what the shackles feel like. This was more than a read—it was a felt experience. Thank you for trusting us with it.”

Sar x ‘s words encapsulate the essence of what I'm striving to achieve with The Unshackled Journal. It's about honest storytelling, embracing vulnerability, and fostering genuine connections.

If this speaks to you, then this week's edition of Unshackled is for you… a heartfelt exploration of the ties that bind us, the moments that slip away, and the courage it takes to hold on to them… and sometimes… the courage it takes to let go:

We’ll Get Together Then: Cat’s In The Cradle

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
Ferris Bueller

I used to think that line was just a throwaway from a movie everyone quoted and nobody really listened to. Now I realise Ferris might’ve been onto something deeper than bunking off school and borrowing a Ferrari.

Because life does move damn fast. I don't think I can go a week without hearing the phrase "Time flies" more than once. You blink and it’s six months later. And it’s not just the big things flying past... it’s the quiet stuff. The texts you meant to reply to. The call you forgot to return. The mate you haven’t seen in years, but still “like” their baby pics on Instagram... so that counts, right?

We’re all busy. Work, family, stress, trying to remember your login to the Medicare app... it’s a full-time job just keeping up. But the problem is, when connection gets pushed to the bottom of the list, it starts slipping through the cracks. And that’s where things can get away from you.

Late last year, I set myself a challenge. I would reach out to one person I care about. Every day. For 30 days. Not just a text or a “we should catch up sometime,” but proper time. Real conversation. And I don’t mean an accidental deep-and-meaningful at 1am in a kebab shop. I mean choosing someone, and making space for them. Face to face, screen to screen... whatever worked.

I stuck to it, too. I reached out to a different person each day. Did it all politely as well... no guilt trips, no pressure, no “you’ve changed.” Just honest effort. Some people were up for it. Some weren’t. It was the Christmas period, so I was expecting a lot of people to be busy. That’s life. But I did it anyway. And… I’m glad I did… and I’ll do something similar again.

If you were one of the people I messaged (penny just dropped, hey? haha) , now you know why. I wasn’t bored. I was kind of doing a weird social experiment, but the core of my efforts were because I was trying to reconnect. Genuinely. Because you still matter to me. And I didn’t want to leave it all hanging, collecting dust in the “I’ll do that tomorrow” pile. We all know, tomorrow becomes next week, next week becomes next year, and all of a sudden it’s 2030 and you’re wondering how it faded away.

I guess it’s also me making up for old habits.

In my twenties and thirties, I had a real knack for going missing... just poof. Off the radar. Gone. No call, no explanation. Then I’d resurface like, “What did I miss?” I was always obsessed with being spontaneous. I'd be out having some Friday night drinks with friends and come up with the idea of catching the 10am flight to LA en route to Las Vegas... dash home to pick up my passport and book my flights on the taxi ride up there. To put that into context, I’m in Australia… and yes I did this… and yes I did it multiple times. I just used to alter the destination to keep it interesting...Try find me!

I pulled a prank on a friend at McCarran Airport in Las Vegas. I text him to meet me at a bar called Vegas on the Gold Coast, Australia. When he arrived, he messaged me, “Where are you? I’ve looked everywhere!” I replied, “Oh, I should’ve been more specific... I’m in Las Vegas.” He was spinning around in disbelief, saying, “But I was with you yesterday?? How can you be in… America??”

But yes, I would decide to end up on the other side of the planet on a whim, then I’d wake up filling out arrival boarding cards wondering what the airport shops clothing looked like as I brought none.

My sister told me in my early twenties I was like Leonardo DiCaprio in Catch Me If You Can, and I kind of took that description and ran with it and never looked back.

I just took regular holidays in the Bermuda Triangle. One of my mate’s dads, Joe used to joke that when his son hung out with me, it was like signing a permission slip to the Triangle... wave goodbye, no return date, maybe send a postcard.

I just kept moving. Always chasing the next wild idea, allergic to stillness, running from boredom. I’d make people laugh, fill a room with energy, then disappear to find another room.

Even my mum mentioned it recently, laughing, but not really laughing. She said I'd go for weeks, sometimes months without so much as a check-in call. I feel pretty terrible about that now, to be quite honest.

Now, I try to be the opposite. I make the call. I send the message. I try. And it’s not because I’ve had some magical transformation. It’s because I’ve lived on the other side of disconnection. Where time gets rationed. Where silence becomes the default.

In prison for 2.5 years, I got one 30-minute video call a week. That call became my everything. You learn quickly who matters when you’re counting the minutes.

And now, even though I’ve got more freedom with access to technology, I don’t want to waste it. I’m making the effort because I can. Because I’ve seen what happens when you don’t. It hurts people.

Since writing more and sharing my stuff, I’ve had people reach out who I hadn’t spoken to in years. It's also encouraged some new connections with people who are enjoying my writing. And it reminded me: it takes so little to spark something. One message. One phone call. One piece of writing. That’s it.

But here's the other side of it… and yes, there is another side. Not every connection is meant to return, and that's perfectly all right.

Some people belong to a version of you that no longer exists. Just as your reflection in the mirror changes over time, so do our relationships. You can cherish what you once had with someone and still recognise that it's no longer right. Growth involves understanding who you are now, not just who you were when you first met.

As Dr Gabor Maté wisely said, “If you’re not growing together, you’re growing apart. Keep watering a dead plant and you don’t just waste water... you kill them both.”

And he’s right. You can smother something that’s already gone. Drown it in effort. Drag each other down by trying to revive what no longer fits. Letting go doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. It just means you’ve both moved on.

So yes... reach out. Make the effort. Send the message.

But also, don’t force it. Not everyone needs to be carried with you into your next chapter. Some goodbyes are kind. Some silences are peaceful. And some old friendships are better as memories... beautiful, imperfect, and complete. And some... some will last forever. Cherish those ones.

People ask me if time drags in Immigration Detention. It doesn’t. It’s more like watching a roller coaster fly past... screaming faces, flashing lights, everything moving at breakneck speed... but you’re stuck behind the barrier. You see the ride, but you don’t get to feel it.

The world keeps turning, twisting forward, while I remain still… watching life unfold without me. Deep down, I ache to make every moment count. But when you're in custody, that’s not always possible. Still, I do my best. And, truth be told, some of the most meaningful moments of my life have happened right here in the last 10.5 months. For that, I’m very grateful.

That said, there’s no denying the toll this has taken on my relationships. Three and a half of the last five years in custody… it’s bound to leave scars. Sometimes I feel unmoored, unsure of who I am, disconnected from the identity I once held. Am I forgotten? That’s a question I carry with me. But it’s mine to bear. The other looming question is, “Is that the identity I want to have today, anyway?”

Just as we can let go of relationships with others, we can also release versions of our former selves. Some aspects of who I was remain close to my heart, but others… well, they were chapters that served their purpose. Growth often means honouring the past while making space for who we’re becoming.

When I get out, I’ll regroup. I know who my core people are, and I’ll rebuild from that foundation. As for those who’ve drifted away… perhaps that’s how it was meant to be. The life I once led is just that: the past. We move forward, with a renewed spring in our step, ready to embrace whatever comes next.

That old song, Cat’s in the Cradle

.. yeah, that one... hits differently now. The dad keeps saying “we’ll get together then.” But “then” never comes. And by the time he’s finally ready, his kid’s already gone... doing his own thing. Full 180. Now he’s the one who’s too busy for dad. The irony’s brutal. And all too real.

I don’t want that to be me. Not with my daughter. Not with my closest mates. Not with the ones I really care about.

So here’s what I’m saying, Chain-breakers… plain and simple:
If someone popped into your head while you were reading this, that’s not random. Reach out. Message them. Call them. Make a plan. Do the thing.

Life’s too short for “one day.”

I fully expect my phone to be blowing up by the way :-)

Because yeah, Ferris Bueller was right. Life moves fast. Don’t be the one who missed the people who mattered because you were too busy looking the other way. Take it from somebody who’s spent years not having the option. You can earn back money, rebuild trust, even start again… but the moments you missed are gone for good. Time doesn’t offer refunds.

I hope everybody has a great week ahead and…

Stay Unshackled My Friends

If this piece hit home for you, please share it with your friends, family, or on your socials. You never know who might need to read it today.