Tahlia Nunn

This March, I choose the water again. I choose the early mornings, the quiet echo of the pool, the steady counting of laps when my shoulders start to ache and my lungs ask why. I swim because more than one in three young people are carrying something heavy. I swim because some battles are silent, and silence can be dangerous. I swim for the ones who feel overwhelmed, for the ones who don’t have the words yet, for the ones who need someone to keep going even when it’s hard. Each lap is small on its own. One length. One breath. One turn. But small things, repeated, become distance. Become impact. Become change. This is my fourth year returning to the water. Not because it’s easy. Not because 18 kilometres sounds impressive. But because showing up matters. Because consistency matters. Because care, repeated, becomes powerful. So this March, I swim with intention. I swim with gratitude for the body that carries me. I swim with hope for those who need support. I swim because I can. And I will keep moving forward, one lap at a time