I left school at 15 years old, eager to begin building a future for myself. Raised with a strong work ethic from my Italian heritage, I threw myself into plumbing, believing it would provide the stability and security I needed. By the time I was in my mid-twenties, I had become highly skilled in the trade and was beginning to establish a solid foundation for myself. But at 27, my life took an unexpected turn.
I ruptured a disc in my lower back requiring surgery, and after months of recovery, I was given unsettling news: the surgeon said I would likely only last another five years in the trade. This warning forced me to take a hard look at my future. I decided to study at night school and earn my plumbing contractor’s license and, at 29, started my own business.
The early days were tough. A new house, a newborn baby, and a downturn in the construction industry all hit at once. But I worked relentlessly, and alongside my wife and a business partner, I built a successful company. By my early thirties, I had achieved what I thought was the goal: financial stability, professional respect, and a growing business.
But something was missing. Despite the outward success, I felt unfulfilled and unhappy. Plumbing was a respectable trade, but it didn’t feel like my true calling. It was a job I was good at, but it never inspired me. I felt like I was simply going through the motions, always wondering if there was something more to life. But I ignored those feelings of discontent, focusing instead on my family responsibilities and the demands of running a business.
Turning forty, life forced me to confront these feelings. After splitting with my business partner of 10 years, I found myself emotionally and physically drained. I turned to antidepressants and pain medication just to get through the day, pushing forward with long hours, trying to rebuild my business and support my family. Four years later, I hit rock bottom with a complete mental and emotional breakdown. For the first time, I couldn’t push through the pain and suffering. I had to face it. It was during this vulnerable time that I met Sharon Faye, a psychologist who would forever change my life.
The Transformation
At the time, I wasn’t sure what was happening to me, but I knew I was in the right place with the right psychologist. Our sessions were transformative. For the first time, I felt truly heard and understood. I began peeling back layers of myself I had long buried or ignored, opening doors I didn’t know existed. I discovered the power of looking within and healing emotionally and, as I healed inside, my external world also seemed to transform. My business started to thrive, my family life improved, and now off all medication, I began to feel a surge of inspiration. The work I did with Sharon made me want to offer the same gift to others.
A seed was planted, and I made the bold decision to pursue a degree in clinical psychology. After just scraping through on a mature age entrance exam, I was accepted into university for the first time in my life. Enrolling in university and attending my first lecture at 47 was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. I hadn’t been in a classroom in decades, and self-doubt was relentless: Could I keep up with younger students? Was I smart enough to succeed? But with each step, I found my rhythm. The more I studied, the more I realised I had found my true calling. Every lecture, every late-night assignment, and every moment of applying theory to practice made me feel that I was on the right path.
After 16 years of juggling work, study, and rebuilding my life, I graduated with a master’s degree, earning a place on the Executive Dean’s list recognising the top 2% of postgraduate students from my faculty. That achievement wasn’t just about academic success—it symbolised the Emotional Strength® I had gained through years of hard work and reinvention.
Integration
While psychology became my passion, plumbing has remained a part of my life. For years, I resented the trade, seeing it as something I had settled for, a job that didn’t reflect the life I had imagined for myself. But with time, I began to appreciate the value of being a tradesman. Plumbing instilled discipline, problem-solving, and the value of craftsmanship—skills I apply in both my work and personal life.
Today, I split my time between my psychology practice and my plumbing business. While the two may seem unrelated, they complement each other in ways I never expected. I mentor my team of office staff, apprentices, and young tradespeople, encouraging them to take pride in their work and realise the value of what they do. I know how easy it is to feel stuck or unsure about your path, and my mission is to help others find their way – whether that means embracing their craft or taking a leap toward something else.
Reflecting on my journey, I realise that it was never about choosing one career over the other. It was about integrating both aspects of my life to create a fulfilling existence. Plumbing gave me a solid foundation and valuable skills, while psychology gave me purpose and a deeper understanding of myself and others.
Purpose isn’t always about following a straight path. Sometimes, it’s about embracing the twists and turns, learning from each experience, and trusting that your journey is exactly what it needs to be. For me, the balance between plumbing and psychology has shown me that success is not about fitting into a single mould, but about creating a life that feels true to who you are.
Now, whether I’m on a building site with my boots on, or guiding someone through emotional healing, I know I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. And for that, I am truly grateful.