Hi, I'm Mel
If you've found your way here, chances are you're juggling more than one person reasonable should - just like me most days.
I've tried to keep this fairly brief - as much as an oversharing AuDHD woman can!
The Corporate Years
For 20 years I climbed the ladder at the Australian Taxation Office, reaching acting Executive Level 2.
Compliance, complaints, executive reporting, procedures, quality assurance, mediating on million-dollar debts and pre-litigation matters – intense stuff, but I loved the problem-solving and the intellectual buzz. (The politics? Not so much.)
I was on track for early retirement with a proper golden parachute. Life felt sorted.
Then the universe had other plans – the kind that don't come with a memo.
When Everything Changed
Then, at 40-something, my life was turned upside down.
My kids came to me full-time as a solo parent. The autism diagnoses landed for all three of us. Complex medical needs started rolling in for one of my daughters. And around the same time, my Dad was diagnosed with Parkinson's.
It was a lot. Layers of caring responsibilities piled on fast – appointments,
therapies, hospital visits, navigating systems that never quite fit, all while trying to hold everything together. Despite all those years building a career at the ATO, something had to give. I walked away – goodbye golden parachute – moved cities for a fresh start, and began again.
Terrifying. Liberating. Necessary.
And honestly, the best decision I ever made, even if it felt like the ground was disappearing under me at the time.
Creating Something New
The spark for Beautiful Lights came from my own family's NDIS journey. When my daughters became participants, we struggled to find support that felt safe and right for us – all three autistic, low trust in strangers, uncomfortable with traditional in-home workers. Therapists emphasised connection to the world, but it had to suit our needs.
I searched for online NDIS support options. Nothing. So I built it myself – calm, flexible, online support that puts choice, safety, and genuine connection first. Allied health professionals tell me it's exactly what their clients need but can't find.
I had no idea what I was doing at first. Made plenty of mistakes (some expensive). Spent months fixing things, learning as I went. Some days felt like drowning, but my clients needed me, and I needed them too.
Where I Am Now
These days life feels more like a gentle rhythm than a constant sprint. I support four wonderful clients through Beautiful Lights for about 20 hours a week – calm, online sessions that fit around school runs, medical appointments, and the inevitable "Mum, I need..." moments. It brings in around $70,000 a year, which isn't flashy, but it's steady, predictable, and mine.
My books are full by choice. I keep one full day free each week for respite, family, and just breathing – plus there's a small waiting list for when the right spot opens up. No paid ads, no hard sell; new people find me through word of mouth or the odd helpful reply in carer Facebook groups. That feels right – trust built slowly is trust that lasts.
My clients are the best part. They share their worlds with me, teach me new ways of seeing things, and somehow manage to lift me up even on days when I'm the one meant to be helping. It's reciprocal in the quietest, loveliest way.
Rather than scaling Beautiful Lights bigger and burning myself out again, I've realised I'd rather help more people create something similar for themselves.
That means more NDIS participants get the safe, flexible, connection-focused support they deserve – especially now, with plan budgets tightening and transport funding often more promise than practical reality. It's a small way to spread the good stuff wider, without stretching myself too thin.
Why Little Piece
In carer and mum groups, I see the same questions pop up every single day: How can I earn from home? What actually fits around my real life – the appointments, the meltdowns, the exhaustion?
So many skilled, big-hearted people are stuck because the "opportunities" out there either ignore caring responsibilities completely or promise the moon with suspiciously little effort. I've been right in those Facebook threads, feeling that mix of hope and doubt.
I've lived the restart. I know what it's like to need income that gives back instead of draining you dry. So I created Little Piece: gentle, realistic guidance to build small online businesses that honour your energy, your skills, and your life as it is – not as some ideal version.
The NDIS Pathway is the first offering – drawn straight from my own Beautiful Lights journey. Practical, step-by-step ways to start providing NDIS support from home, without the burnout or the rule-breaking pitfalls.
What I've Learned
Professional skills carry over beautifully, but business thinking is a whole different beast from corporate life. It's less about climbing ladders and more about steady footing.
Perfection is the thief of progress. I wasted far too much time polishing things that didn't need to be perfect – clients just needed genuine, reliable help.
Community is everything. Home-based work plus caring can feel so isolating; finding people who get it has been a quiet lifeline.
You can do more than you ever thought possible – especially when you team up with thoughtful tools like AI (used carefully, never as a shortcut for heart).
Trust is earned slowly. Spotting real support versus the shiny charlatans is a skill I wish I'd honed sooner.
And the big one: starting small and sustainable always, always beats burning out in a blaze of glory.
My Reality
I share a home with my two autistic daughters – one with complex medical needs that keep us on our toes – two cats, eight chooks, and whatever wildlife decides to drop by: wallabies bounding through the yard, bandicoots digging, the odd snake or goanna keeping us respectful, kookaburras laughing from the trees, possums partying at night, and koalas occasionally napping in the branches.
Our elderly rescue dog Frank passed away peacefully in his sleep not long ago. He was my steady shadow, full of gentle chaos, muddy paws, and the kind of unconditional love that sneaks up on you. The house feels quieter without his snores, but the memories still make me smile through the ache. Grateful for every moment he gave us.
I navigate late-diagnosed autism and ADHD, various health niggles, solo parenting, perimenopause (which is basically puberty's evil twin – who approved that plot twist?), and the daily overwhelm that comes with it all.
I share this not to compare war wounds, but so you know: if I can piece together something steady and meaningful amid the beautiful, messy reality, maybe you can carve out your own little piece too.
Trello keeps the chaos organised (mostly). I prioritise energy over endless to-do lists, work on regulating my nervous system, ask for help when I need it, and keep my circle small and kind. Most battles are with bureaucracy anyway – systems, not people.
What Success Looks Like to Me
Enough financial stability to breathe easy and support the life we have – not chasing more for the sake of more.
Small, consistent impact that feels real and reciprocal – the kind where you give a little piece of yourself and get lifted up in return.
Work that becomes easeful once the foundations are solid: aligned, flexible, and kind to your nervous system.
Authentic balance that leaves room for rest, joy, and the inevitable "Mum, I need..." interruptions – without guilt.
The Vision
My dream is to:
* Help carers and others with lived experience design flexible, values-driven work from home that fits their real lives.
* Grow the pool of kind, professional NDIS support providers so more participants get the safe, connection-focused help they deserve.
* Build a natural community along the way – people who understand the juggle, share wins and resources, and maybe even step in for each other during tough patches.
This isn't about empires or big numbers; I want to help you make meaningful, manageable income that honours who you are and what you carry.
If any of this resonates and you'd like to explore what your little piece could look like – no rush, no hype – I'd love to walk alongside you.
Join the waitlist for The NDIS Pathway at littlepiece.com.au/waitlist, or message me anytime to chat more. Practical steps from someone who's still figuring it out too, one gentle day at a time.
If you're ready to explore what your little piece might look like, I'd love to help.
No pressure, no false promises - just practical guidance from someone who's been where you are
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