Wayne’s story

Wayne’s early years were filled with violence and fear, forcing him to grow up fast and leave home at 14. He built a strong career and family life, but decades of trauma and undiagnosed mental health conditions eventually pushed him into crisis and six years without a home, until he met us. With Single Homeless Project in his corner, things started to change. Given safety, support and the love of his dog, Bensai, Wayne is standing tall again, finding calm in his own space and shaping a future he can finally breathe in.

Wayne’s early years set the stage for a life spent fighting for stability, safety and understanding.

“Home life wasn’t one that you wanted. My mum struggled. Every time it was the end of the week, and payday came, my dad was missing – normally found at a pub.

“My dad had no control over his temper. You’d get hit for things you didn’t do, or just for being there. He’d make me and my brother fight and say things like, ‘This is gonna hurt you more than it hurts me,’ when he’d beat us. His other saying was, ‘My arm is long, and my vengeance is total.’”

“There was always shouting and chaos at home. Walking around the house was like walking on eggshells. It wasn’t a place of comfort.”

What was happening at home didn’t stay there. Wayne carried the trauma with him wherever he went, even as a young child. When a child grows up in fear, their body and mind adapt to survive. Those adaptations can carry on into adult life, affecting mental health, relationships and the ability to trust.

Forced to grow up fast

Wayne had had enough of his home life. He knew he needed to leave before things got worse. At an age when most young people are still finding their way at school, Wayne was already working full-time and learning to survive on his own terms.

“I left home at 14 and moved into my first property. I was grafting and working – labouring on the roads.”

Despite leaving school early, Wayne built a career through skill and determination. He bounced between jobs before finding what he loved.

“I started working for a company called Bleeding Edge as a picture editor. I was earning good money. Then I went into engineering. It was a lot of fun.

“After a while in the industry, I started working for the company that did all the BT contracts. I met a woman who was one of the directors of British Telecom. She said, ‘How would you like to work for us?’ And that was it – I started with BT. Great time. Worked there for about six years.”

By his early twenties, Wayne was thriving at work and had his first child with his partner.

“When I finished with BT, I was earning 70 grand a year. Then 130 grand. I was doing really, really well. I’d bought a house in Woodford Green.

“I really enjoyed my work. I say, ‘I’ve never worked a day in my life’, because I always loved what I was doing.”

For someone who had grown up with so little safety or support, building a career he loved felt like proof that life could be different.

The breaking point

From the outside, it looked like Wayne had everything. But inside, things were painful. Wayne had built a life many could only dream of, but he was carrying years of trauma and an undiagnosed condition that made coping almost impossible.

“When I was 27, my mental health started to deteriorate. I had two kids, a partner, a house and a job. It was a lot of pressure. It took a heavy toll on me. My partner became quite agitated with my behaviour.

“I started to abuse the things to entertain me – alcohol became very easy. I’d buy expensive alcohol and think that because I’m drinking better alcohol, it’s not going to do me so badly. But it’s all the same. It doesn’t matter what you’re drinking – the mind can’t function if you’re intoxicating it.”

For years, Wayne knew his brain was different, but he didn’t have a diagnosis. That changed in 2012 – but not for the better.

“When my mental health diagnosis came, everything went really downhill. My partner didn’t give a shit. She was like, ‘That’s down to you, not down to me.’ It was the demise of our relationship. Things started to crumble after that.”

Things unravelled further when a dispute with his employer about stolen goods escalated, and Wayne was unexpectedly sentenced to prison.

“I was told to plead guilty, and I’d be given a six-month suspended sentence. I ended up spending 18 months behind bars. I’d never been to jail. I’d always said I’d never go. It’s a fool’s game.”

Inside, Wayne relied on the resilience he’d built when he was younger. But the hardest part wasn’t prison life – it was knowing what he’d left behind and that he’d let down the people he loved most.

“I let my son down. He tells people I was his hero and I didn’t realise how much so until then.”

What he thought would be a short period of instability became six years of surviving.

Six years without a home

After his release, Wayne stayed with his partner for a few months while he was on tag. But once that ended, he had nowhere stable to go. It was the start of a long period of homelessness – one that would last for years.

“I was on the trains, or on a bus, or I’d go to certain places where I knew I could be safe. It was alcohol and drugs that kept me going. Heroin is a very forgiving drug. It relaxes you. It makes you feel like everything’s okay, even when it’s not.

“I’ve had my bag stolen, woke up to people spitting on me, people pissing on me, people drawing on me. They think it’s amusing.

“There were a few people who looked out for me – shopkeepers, old friends, people who’d say, ‘If you need this, if you need that, I’ve got you.’ That’s how I survived.”

A turning point

“My psychiatrist, whom I would see when I could, said, ‘You can’t keep living like this.’ So he referred me, and that’s when I met Maxine from Single Homeless Project. She was my absolute saviour.”

It was the first time in years that someone stood beside him, fought for him and refused to let him fall through the cracks.

“She took all the legislation to the council and told them, ‘You can’t keep treating this man like you have been – you have a duty of care under the Mental Health Act.’ Within seven days, I’d been found somewhere to live.”

Wayne moved into a flat in Essex – and not long after, rescued a nine-week-old puppy he named Bensai.

“I took him from somebody who was mistreating him. He’d been left in a bathroom, in his own mess, drinking toilet water. I picked him up and said, ‘Mate, I’m taking your dog.’”

Wayne’s love for Bensai is something he still struggles to convey fully. In Bensai, Wayne found not just a companion but a reason to keep going.

Bensai saved me. He’s everything. He’s my happiness – my resolution for when I feel down. He gives me something to be responsible for… Having him makes me feel like I’ve still got someone who depends on me.

“He knows when I’m upset – he just knows. He’ll come over, give me that look, and it’s like he’s saying, ‘You all right?’ He’s got me, you know? It’s hard to explain, but he feels what I’m feeling.”

Pain, persistence and starting again

Wayne thought he was finally out of the hole he’d been in – until one night he was attacked outside his block.

“As I ran upstairs, I jumped over the balcony to get away. I shattered both my heels – the right one exploded into seven pieces. I was in the hospital for months.”

When he was discharged, he couldn’t return to his flat because of the stairs. He bounced between temporary accommodations.

“Some were good, some were really bad. I ended up in a care home where the staff were drinking on duty, the smell of vodka on their breath.”

“I had to ask the care home for permission to leave, and I wasn’t allowed back beyond a certain time. It was horrible. I felt trapped.”

Eventually, Wayne was moved into a new place – but instead of stability, he found danger.

“I was attacked in the area I was living in with my kippah on. It happened more than once. I didn’t feel safe there anymore, so I started staying at my mum’s.”

Support that stays

That’s when Ashley and Ella from Single Homeless Project stepped in.

“Ashley is one of those people who has actually followed up on everything that he said he’s going to do. He has kept every single promise. That’s rare.”

“I put this home down to him and Ella. She went hammer and tong with the council to get this place. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her.”

“I love where I am now. It’s peaceful. I’ve been reunited with my Bensai. I’ve got my music, space to breathe and a place to feel safe again.”

Wayne is now rebuilding his life with our support. He’s reconnecting with his family, the tranquillity of his new home, and planning for the future.

“I’ve been through a lot. But now I wake up knowing I’ve got a home, a dog who loves me, and people who care. That’s everything.”

Today, Wayne is rebuilding his life with steady feet beneath him. He has a home that feels safe, a dog who loves him and a team who will never stop backing him. He wakes up each morning with hope. And for Wayne, that means everything.

We are so proud of you, Wayne!