Milo’s story

Milo was just 16 when they were kicked out of their home after years of abuse, trauma and neglect. For more than a year, they slept in parks and rode night buses across London, doing whatever they could to stay safe. A seizure on the street led to a stay in hospital – and eventually a referral to one of our young people’s services – where everything began to change.

Now, Milo is finding confidence through art, friendship and creative opportunities. They’re ready to take the next step and move into a place of their own.

“The trauma I lived through was constant. My mum was emotionally abusive and neglectful. She once left for a month – we had no electricity or hot water. When she made food for the family, I’d only get the leftovers. I struggle with an eating disorder to this day.

“Any time my siblings and I stepped out of line, my mum would threaten to send us to our dad’s. He sexually abused me. From the age of five until I was 14, he made me shower with him and sleep in his bed – completely naked. It was terrifying. I still avoid Dartford, because that’s where he lives. That place holds too much pain for me.

“Eventually, I was kicked out at 16. My mum and the whole family were so unstable – constant fighting, manipulation, gaslighting. It just wasn’t safe to be there anymore.”

Life on the streets

Milo spent the next year sleeping rough and bouncing between Abbey Wood, Crystal Palace and Croydon. Sometimes they would stay with friends, but nothing lasted for long.

“I used to ride the N53 and N1 night buses to survive. I’ll always love those buses – they were my shelter. Warmer. Safer than the streets.

“On the nights I couldn’t get on a bus, I slept on an old sofa dumped in the woods. That was my bed. I never knew what the night would bring. But I knew I had to survive it.

“I stayed alive by stealing food and drink. I’m not proud of it, but I did what I had to do. I used baby wipes to try and stay clean.”

Those were the ‘good’ nights for Milo. Others were far worse…

“Some nights, I didn’t sleep at all. I was terrified. Alone. Mentally exhausted. There would be mornings I’d wake up absolutely drenched, shivering with blue lips.

“One night, everything I owned was stolen. Another night, someone attacked me while I was sleeping. I would get a couple of hours of sleep at night at most… there were weeks I didn’t sleep at all.

“Winter was the worst. I’ve got Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome – my muscles and bones don’t connect properly, and the pain is constant. In the freezing cold, my body would lock up. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t even move. It was agony.”

Finding a place to land

Milo’s turning point came when they had a seizure in the street. A passer-by called an ambulance, and from there, they were referred to our young people’s service in Greenwich.

“Walking through the doors to the hostel… I remember sobbing and crying. I didn’t know what to expect. New place, new people, new situations. It was all very overwhelming and scary.

“I didn’t sleep one bit for the first few days being here. I was up all night thinking about everything – the whole situation I was in, and the family and friends I’d lost on the journey through homelessness.”

But gradually, things started to shift.

After a while, I started to make friends at the hostel and began opening up about what I’d gone through. That helped more than therapy ever did. Some of the people I’ve met here at the hostel have become like family to me now.

“One of the night staff – Samson – used to let me and my friend Sara sit in the office and just talk about random things when I couldn’t sleep. That really helped. He gave good advice. I can’t remember exactly what it was, but it worked.”

Discovering joy beyond trauma

As Milo began to regain confidence, they embraced every opportunity we had to – from yoga and sip-and-paint workshops to illustration courses and studio recording sessions.

“My favourite part of the day was coming down to the social area and doing arts and crafts. When I’m doing art, it gives me a sense of peace I didn’t have before.”

“I’ve learnt so much through the ArtHouse courses – I’ve learnt screen-printing, made my own mug, and it’s even made me think about becoming a tattoo artist in the future.”

The creative sessions didn’t just teach Milo new skills – they gave them calm, confidence, and a sense of who they are outside of trauma.

That growing sense of self-worth and stability also helped Milo open up to love again – on their own terms.

“I’m actually dating someone who likes me back. In my past relationships, they didn’t really like me back – or they just wanted to use me.

My new partner helps me out a lot, and I help them out as much as I can.

A future taking shape

Milo is still supported by us, but he has recently moved to one of our step-down services, with less day-to-day support. Milo still walks back regularly to join the art and cooking sessions – a space that continues to ground and inspire them, feeling hopeful for the future

With support from their key worker, they’re getting their ID sorted and preparing to bid for a council home.

“I’m excited, but really nervous. I want to live more freely… but the idea of living alone is a bit scary.”

“It’s always on my mind – especially after seeing a few of my friends get their own places. It’s bloody brilliant for them.”

“When I move into my own home, I’m getting loads of bean bags. They’re so comfy. I never want to get up from them.”

Milo’s journey through homelessness shows how complex the path can be – and how essential it is to meet people with care, not judgment.

“Not every homeless person is the same. We didn’t choose this – it was forced on us. Being homeless is cold, scary, and lonely. It hurts… but there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.”

We’re so proud of Milo. From surviving the streets to finding their confidence and creativity, they’ve shown resilience, strength, and tenacity every step of the way.

We can’t wait to see what they do next!