Copyright brisbanetimes
These days, I travel by myself every year, but my first experience of independent travel was going to London to meet Jess when she was 22. We were in Scotland and people on the bus thought we were a couple: we were horrified. It’s not the only time it’s happened. We don’t look alike and people see our closeness. One night during lockdown, I made Jess a caramel chocolate tart. It sparked the idea for GingerSnap, our vegan patisserie. I’d been working at Bakers Delight and Crown casino and was terrified of doing our own thing, but she helped me believe in my abilities. She does the planning and bookkeeping and makes phone calls; I create the desserts, which we sell online, at pop-ups and events. She’s also the first taste-tester. She told me the tiramisu was awful. She was right: the cream was lumpy and the sponge fingers wouldn’t soak up the coffee. Vegan tiramisu is a hard one. A highlight for us was making a tennis ball-shaped tart which became a sensation at the AO in January. We made more than 2000. It meant the world to me to make something vegan and gluten-free that everyone loved. I have complex PTSD. When I was 22, I met a guy on a dating app and a group of people attacked us; I was kicked in the head seven times. I told Jess the next day. Whatever happens, she’ll hug me, let me know she loves me as a deaf man and a gay man. I forget that sometimes and I shut off. I often feel worthless, that there’s no point sharing my troubles. But good things happen, too, like being an uncle to Jess’s two kids, Harry and Ella [11 and 9]. They bring meaning to my life. Ella became vegetarian because I’m vegan and it’s been nice to see her memorise the Auslan signs I’ve taught her. Because people can’t see my disability, they often can’t grasp my challenges. Jess may not know exactly what it’s like to be deaf, but she understands deafness. She’s my biggest supporter, loving me unconditionally and helping me reach for my dreams.
