10/09/2025
Dear Booborowie Community,
After everything we’ve endured, and after seeking legal advice, I can no longer remain silent. For years, James and I carried the crushing weight of relentless abuse, threats, harassment, and homophobia. Every day felt like walking through fire. We were told to keep our heads down, to “not make waves,” to just “get on with it.” But staying quiet only protected those who made our lives a living nightmare, it never protected us.
Closing the Booborowie Post Office wasn’t some simple choice made overnight. It was one of the hardest, most heartbreaking decisions of my life, and I was the one left broken by it. I was the one crying behind the counter when no one saw. I was the one who felt sick with dread when certain people walked in. I was the one who copped abuse, insults, and homophobia over things that weren’t even in my control.
Would you like to know how many times I was called a “faggot” or a “poofter” at the Post Office counter over a missing or damaged parcel? I was spat on. Rocks were hurled at the building. Objects were shot at the roof. Threats were made against our lives and we were threatened to be sexually assaulted. At one point, we were threatened with a taser. We received threatening phone calls. Every day felt like a battle just to survive. And James almost went to jail for trying to protect us, that was a long 8 months of unneeded stress and anxiety. Our calls to SAPOL fell on deaf ears and we felt like we had no support by local authorities.
Do you know what that feels like? To be standing there, just trying to do your job, and be treated like your safety, your dignity, and your life don’t matter? To dread walking into your own workplace because of people like that?
A few months ago, I had a complete breakdown and almost closed the Post Office that same day. The only reason I kept pushing through was because of a small group of amazing, supportive people who gave me hope and reminded me why I kept showing up. From the bottom of my heart, thank you to the majority of the town who did stand by me, your kindness is what kept me going for as long as I did.
But even with that support, the hateful comments from members of the community and the rumors they spread about us never stopped. Every day, whispers and lies resurfaced, turning people against us, isolating us, and making life unbearable. Every insult, every rumor, every malicious comment chipped away at our confidence and our sense of safety. It got too much. Every day was a fight just to survive, a fight to walk through our own doors without fear that something terrible would happen.
We were targeted simply for being who we are; gay, human, trying to do our jobs. We were treated as if our dignity, our safety, and our lives meant nothing. We were left isolated, afraid, and constantly anxious. Sleep became impossible. Confidence shattered. Our bodies and minds ached from the weight of constant terror.
Even after leaving Booborowie, we still face harassment. Malicious council complaints continue. Members of the community still try to make our lives miserable. They refuse to let us exist in peace. The hatred followed us, and the trauma has not ended.
People wonder why we closed. This was not a simple business decision, it was a fight for our lives. Every interaction, every encounter, every hateful word, every rumor, every slur chipped away at our mental and emotional wellbeing. We were pushed to the edge. We are exhausted, broken, and at times, suicidal. The pressure, the fear, the abuse, it almost destroyed us completely.
What people will never truly understand is the private battles behind closed doors. The countless nights I had to sit with James, holding him, talking him down from ending his own life because the weight of it all had become unbearable. The cruel words, the threats, the endless harassment, it crushed him. Do you know what it’s like to look into the eyes of the person you love most in this world and see nothing but pain and hopelessness staring back? To beg them to stay alive one more night, one more hour, one more minute, because you can’t bear the thought of losing them too?
I lost count of the times I pulled him back from the edge. And each time it broke me a little more inside, knowing that no matter how strong I tried to be for him, the hate and abuse we faced in this town were slowly killing him. That is the reality we lived with. That is what your words and actions did to us.
Let it be clear: you won. You drove us out. You forced us to flee. You made life unbearable, and now we just want to be left alone. We want safety. We want peace. We want to heal from the relentless torment that Booborowie became for us.
And yet, even when we stepped away, it wasn’t out of spite. We wanted the shop to survive for you. We wanted it to keep going, to give the town something good. We gave someone else the chance to take it on, to keep it alive, and to help it grow. But here’s the truth: she could not take on the Post Office. And why? Because of the very same things that broke us, the pitifully low payments and lack of support from Australia Post, and the endless stream of local complaints that made every single day a battle. She has young children. She wasn’t willing to sacrifice her health, her sanity, and her family to face the same nightmare we endured. Can you really blame her?
And now, instead of being supported in building up the shop, she is being punished too. Malicious council complaints about buildings, about health, about toilets, about anything people can think of. The same cycle, the same poison, is already at her door.
This has to stop. She does not deserve what we went through. We do not deserve to see it happening again. All she wants is to create something positive for the town, and all we want is peace. If this continues, if she is driven out like we were, then Booborowie loses everything.
So please, stop. Leave us be. Leave her be. Let her grow, let her succeed, let her bring something good back to this town. That is all we ever wanted. That is all we still want, for the community to have something worth holding onto, and for the hate to finally end.
This isn’t about revenge. It’s about truth. It’s about finally standing up for ourselves when no one else, not even Australia Post or SAPOL would. It’s about showing the community the reality behind why we closed, and the unimaginable toll it took on our mental health, our safety, and our very lives.
This is our truth. Raw, unfiltered, and painful. We are no longer silent, but we are done fighting a battle that should never have existed. We just want to live. We just want to be left in peace.
Warm regards,
Nathan & James
