My own metamorphosis’, to become the confident, courageous woman I was meant to be

Colleen Millsteed
7 min readJul 31, 2021

Chrysalis. My own metamorphosis’, to become the confident, courageous woman I was meant to be. Written by Colleen Millsteed.
Photo by Joshua Torres on Unsplash

The year is 1991 and I live in Kununurra with my husband. Unfortunately, marriage does not suit either of us. We tend to live our own lives, while residing under the same roof, with the exception of when he would get drunk. Then he would take me on an extremely abusive, physically and emotionally, wild roller coaster ride.

Kununurra is a very hot, dry town in the far north of Western Australia, with very little rainfall throughout the year. Water is scarce and terribly expensive. The town is unsightly red dirt wherever you look, not a garden or lawn in sight, as no one would be able to afford their water bill.

Extremely hot in summer, you will be dripping with sweat just walking to your letterbox, only a hop, skip and jump from your front door.

One very hot Saturday morning, a good friend of mine was taking a truck loaded with dry goods up to Darwin, staying overnight and returning to Kununurra the next day. He asked if I would come along, as he could do with the company on the long eight hour drive.

Now an excuse to get out of town, away from my husband for a weekend, heck yeah! Especially as I had never been out of the state of Western Australia, at the grand old age of 25. Darwin is over the Western Australian border, in the Northern Territory.

I felt like it would be similar to travelling to another country. Excited much?

Saturday morning arrives and a large road-train pulls up outside my front door. I’ve been pacing the verandah, itching to get under way. This is the closest thing to a great adventure in my life in many years. I have always loved travelling and I’m like a little kid on Christmas Eve, just waiting for the big guy in the red suit to visit me.

We are off, the truck steadily eating the miles, as we talk and sing loudly to the radio, cracking ourselves up laughing. Our own little party in the cab of the truck.

The landscape is the same red hills and dry spindly trees of the outskirts of Kununurra, until we start getting close to the border. Suddenly it begins to change, ever so gradually at first, but changing all the same.

Colleen Millsteed

Top Writer in Poetry. I’m a Finance Manager with a love of both numbers and words.