I grew up on “Lignum Park Station,” a 70,000-acre sheep and cattle station outside Ivanhoe in the Central Darling Shire of western NSW. Out there, lessons came through the crackle of the School of the Air, and an occasionally frustrated Mum.

Between the ages of 6 and 10, it was heaven. Textbooks came in the postman’s truck twice a week (if we were lucky.) So by the time my sisters and I got to 11, our parents had no choice but to send us off to boarding school. 

To say it was a shock would be an understatement. For starters, I wasn’t used to being surrounded by so many people! But things were different then; we didn’t have mobile phones that meant I could call or text Mum and Dad whenever I wanted to. So I did it a bit tough to start off with. But boarding opened my world beyond the boundary fence, and as the years rolled by, I knew I wanted that same sense of growth and independence and opportunity for my three girls.

Home these days is a small farm near Coolamon, forty minutes north-west of Wagga. Wagga is a big regional city, so it wasn’t that I needed to send my girls to boarding school for their secondary education. I wanted to. But that didn’t make the first goodbye easy. The first time I drove away from the boarding house, my eldest’s bed was half-made and her smile at the door was brave but not quite convincing. I counted the kilometres home in reverse; away from her, away from that hug I hadn’t held long enough. Somewhere between the highway signs and the static on the radio, I had to remind myself: this was exactly what I’d always planned for.

As a single mum, sending your children hundreds of kilometres away means trusting someone else to care for them. The first calls home can be reassuring: full of excitement about hockey trials, new friends, and hot chips on Saturday night. Other times: a snoring roommate, a failed maths test, a wave of homesickness that comes out of nowhere. In both moments, you remember why you chose this.

Maddie and Annabelle began at the same school, though their paths soon diverged. Zoe, having watched her sisters’ very different experiences, chose a different school altogether. One family. Three schools. Three journeys. Each chosen to fit the individual.

Over the years I’ve watched the changes in all of them. They’ve learned to live with people they didn’t choose, run their own schedules, navigate life without me leaning over their shoulder. Boarding life gave them resilience, but also lightness – the knack for adapting, for finding humour in small inconveniences. And it gave them friendships that will last decades.

The moments I remember most aren’t the milestones. They’re the little things, but they’re vivid in my thoughts: the first leave weekend when they burst through the door, dump their bag in the hallway and sprawl across the couch with the best blanket; the Sunday night ritual of packing them back up: clean uniforms, tangled chargers, mismatched socks; the silence in the car after the holidays, a mix of reluctance and readiness.

Now, Maddie is 21, Annabelle 19, and Zoe 18. They’re out in the world – studying, working, making their own decisions. They carry themselves with ease, recover quickly when things don’t go to plan, and read a room better than most adults I know.

People sometimes ask why I didn’t just send them all to the same school. The answer’s simple – they’re not the same person. I wanted each girl to feel her school was hers, not a hand-me-down choice from her sisters.

Boarding school isn’t the only path to independence, but for us, it was the right one – even if it looked different for each daughter. It was never about prestige or legacy. It was about knowing when home is the best place to grow, and when it’s time to step outside it.

I grew up on a sheep and cattle station right on the NSW/Queensland border near the tiny outback town of Goodooga. My childhood was the kind most country kids dream about – riding horses, fishing for yabbies in the creek, and long, hot days mustering with Dad. Life was busy, outdoorsy, and deeply connected to the land and family.

Goodooga is a close-knit community with a strong Aboriginal presence, and I feel incredibly lucky to have grown up surrounded by that beautiful culture, taught alongside us at our local primary school. It shaped me – and I carry that pride and connection with me still.

Now, my husband Tim and I raise our four children just outside Narromine on a small lifestyle block. We run a regional Livestock and Property Agency, so the kids have grown up with a strong work ethic, riding horses and motorbikes, mustering for clients, and spending weekends at campdrafts all across rural NSW. Our evenings often end around a fire, telling stories with friends and family. We’re blessed to live on acreage by the Macquarie River, where hours of waterskiing and fishing create lifelong memories.

Boarding school was never foreign to us. Tim and I knew early what it would mean – the challenges, yes, but mostly the opportunities. For us, it’s about giving the kids a chance to connect with a diverse group of people, gain independence, and open doors to education, sport, and life skills they just can’t get living remote.

Boarding school opens their eyes and their futures. That’s what we want most for them.

One of the things I treasure most about this whole journey – the highs, the lows, and all the in-betweens – is the school holiday reunions. Those times when the kids come home and the family bursts back into full, noisy life. After weeks or months apart, those holidays are the highlight of our year and the traditions we keep alive to hold us all close, no matter the distance.

But the lead-up to reunions – when the kids finally come home for school holidays – is a funny mix of emotions. You’d think excitement would drown out homesickness, but sometimes the opposite is true. I’ll admit I sometimes let my guard down, thinking, “They’ve only got a few days left – they’ll be fine.” But the days before they get home can be the trickiest of all.

When they finally arrive, they’re often wiped out. Their lives at boarding school are full-on. One of my boys once said, “You’re always switched on, never able to switch off,” especially when you don’t even have your own room. So those first few days at home are about retreating – lots of sleep, finding space, recharging.

After that, freedom hits. Music blasts from the verandah, games of pool become fiercely competitive, and bedtimes are whatever they want them to be. One of the boys treasures the quiet the most – the kind of quiet that sounds like nothing at all. He has a favourite Tyler Childers song called Universal Sound that perfectly captures that feeling. Being home means soaking up that stillness, doing the simple things they miss at school – sitting on the riverbank and throwing sticks in, last rides on the horses, and debating the “last meal” (which, naturally, always turns into a family argument).

These “last of” moments make the countdown real and sweet. They mark the time but also remind us how precious these reunions are.

When all four kids come home, the house fills with noise and life immediately. Banter, wrestling, teasing – it’s how siblings reconnect after weeks apart. Three boys (+Dad) means there’s always a competition – who’s best, who’s fastest, who’s loudest. It’s noisy, chaotic, and full of love.

Our first night back together is a ritual. Usually, it’s a BBQ with blue rare steak – my personal favourite – followed by pool games on the verandah and music blaring into the night. Simple, but precious. A moment to reset, reconnect, and just be as a family.

The kids pick up shared jobs quickly too. Whether it’s helping with livestock or running errands, teamwork feels effortless. Despite the time apart, they fall back into their roles on the property as if no time has passed.

Of course, having all four home is a bit of an adventure. Muddy boots everywhere, the fridge empties fast, belly laughs fill the house, and there are always arguments over who’s next in the shower or who used the last clean towel.

Our recent winter holidays were no different. The washing piled high, and the house smelled like a cattle truck with all the saleyard clothes covered in manure. But I’m so grateful the kids still love being involved. It’s a team effort, and they take pride in pulling their weight.

Between mustering, drafting, weighing, and feeding livestock, their days are physically exhausting – something their city mates might never understand. Tim and the kids often juggle jobs on different farms, so keeping everyone organized is a full-time job for me alone.

At night, we gather around the dinner table, laughter echoing over the continuing pool games. Any snappy words or tired arguments from the day get smoothed over by the warmth of the fire and the bond that holds us together.

What always cracks me up is the endless banter. Someone once said, “A family that plays together stays together.” I’m sure I didn’t make that up, but it fits perfectly.

Staying connected during term time is a whole other challenge. As the kids get older, they take more responsibility for keeping in touch with each other. Their theory seems to be: if one doesn’t answer, another will – there are plenty of us to go round! Sharing similar interests helps a lot. It’s easy to ask each other about a particular horse, a mob of cattle, or a new job someone’s started.

But let’s be honest: long school terms can be tough. Homesickness and boredom settle in, and sometimes there’s just not much to say for hours on end. When calls come multiple times a day, it can get overwhelming – for them and for us.

The key is to keep phone calls quick and easy. Short check-ins help everyone stay in touch without the pressure to fill the silence. We spread the calls around – Dad, grandparents, older and younger siblings all get a turn.

Sometimes all the kids get their phones back at once, and calls flood in simultaneously. Merging those calls can be a lifesaver when all they want is a quick hello and check-in.

Mums instinctively remain connected in many ways. We give our kids wings to fly, roots to come back to, and reasons to stay. That balance of freedom and belonging is the heart of it all.

Having been a boarder myself, I know boarding school life firsthand, and it shapes the way I parent our kids now. I’m grateful for the advances in technology and communication – the days of dropping kids off at the start of the year and not hearing from them until term ends are gone. Now, I can be far more present and involved, offering support when the tough times come and making sure they know I’m always there, even from afar.

That experience has been invaluable, but the most important thing is a strong relationship and open communication. Our kids need to know we’re in their corner no matter the miles between us.

From my upbringing, I’ve passed on simple but powerful values: gratitude and hard work. I want my children to appreciate the opportunities they have and understand the effort it takes to make the most of them.

To rural mums just starting the boarding journey, my advice is simple: strap yourself in and enjoy the ride. Embrace the challenges – they’ll make your kids stronger. Savour the good times – there’ll be plenty. And above all, God speed!

For us, school holiday reunions are the best days of the year – the times when the chaos, the distance, the worry, and the tears all melt away. They are the traditions that keep love strong. Whether it’s simple games of pool, BBQs with blue rare steak, or sibling wrestles and jokes, these moments stitch us back together.

We don’t take those reunions for granted because the miles between us don’t lessen our bond – they make it all the more precious. Our family thrives on these reunions; they recharge our hearts and remind us what matters most.

No matter where life takes us, we’ll always have these traditions – shared stories, laughter, and love – waiting for us at home.

If you’re a family about to send your kids off to boarding school or somewhere far from home, remember this: those school holiday reunions will be the highlights of your year. They’re the glue that holds your family tight and the traditions that keep your love strong.

Peter Debus is the Managing Director of PrincipleFocus, a financial management and advisory business based in Dubbo NSW with branches in Sydney and Warren and servicing clients all over Australia.

Initially I wanted to talk to Pete about the decision he and his wife Virginia made to send their three children to boarding school from a regional centre with a plethora of educational offerings, and some of his responses really speak to an invisible pressure for some families certainly when they feel obligated to repeat the opportunities that were offered to them by their own parents.

We also discussed the financial implications of choosing boarding school – of course we did, Pete’s an accountant ! We discussed the various conversations you can have with schools and their offerings.

Wow this was a brilliant eye opening discussion – and Pete’s an engaging sort of guy. Full of stories – relatable stories.

Discussions around visions for your children, cultural diversity, a place to call home, boarding school communities, options for financial management through the boarding schools years.

I’m thrilled that he will also be a panelist for our Australian Boarding Schools Summit on 13th October – an online event that you can watch live or stream on demand. No surprises he’s on the panel discussion about financial management but I think you’ll agree after listening to this episode that his authenticity and relatability ensure we’ll keep having these conversations and letting families know that yes, it can be tough but there’s always a way through. Between you and me, I enjoyed this chat so much I’d love to have him on as a regular….. there’s a few more stories Pete can tell.

Enjoy.

In this episode, we’re joined by Dr. Lisa Fahey, a psychologist specialising in trauma recovery and behavioral interventions for young people. As a mother of five former boarders, Dr. Lisa brings both professional expertise and personal experience to the table—making her insights invaluable for families navigating the boarding journey.

This chat focuses on how parents can best support their children as they transition into secondary school, a shift that can feel overwhelming—especially for young boarders adjusting to a new environment, academic pressures, and increased independence. Dr. Lisa shares practical strategies to help parents instill confidence, set positive routines, and provide the right emotional backup.

This particular topic is featured on our Australian Boarding Schools Summit this year too, you can register for that via our website ⁠boardingexpo.com.au⁠, and watch on demand at a time that suits you.

We hope you take away some great insights from this conversation with Dr. Lisa.

Thank you to Courtney Dunn for editing this podcast episode.