Finding His Feet: Ben’s HeartWorks’ Journey at the Exchange Shed
Before he ever stepped through the roller door of the Exchange Shed, Ben was living in a world that felt smaller than it should. The simple act of going to the shops stirred waves of anxiety—tight-chested, breath-shortening, sometimes enough to keep him at home. Without work and without routine, the days blurred together; each one shaped more by worry than by purpose.
It was Ben’s housing support worker who first mentioned HeartWorks, a program run through Rosies – Friends on the Street. “I think this might be good for you,” they said, pointing him towards the possibility of work, structure, and community.
“I was definitely ready to take that next step, but anxiety has a way of making you doubt yourself. It can make you feel unprepared for everything, even when a part of you knows you are ready. It’s like constantly second-guessing yourself. I was so eager to gain employment and show up for myself,” Ben said.
He just needed a little assistance to get there.
When he started the pre-employment training, Ben found himself surrounded by others who were also trying—trying to learn, trying to re-enter the workforce, trying to steady themselves. “It was nice just being there,” he recalled. The training didn’t magically erase his nerves, but it gave him a glimpse of how showing up each day brings confidence and joy. It helped the symptoms of depression and anxiety soften.
In the days leading up to his first shift, Ben leaned into the tools he’d taught himself over the past few years – meditation, breath work, yoga, visualizing worries drifting away. “I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it,” he said, “and not let anxiety control my life all the time.”
While Ben was preparing himself, Megan Lever, owner of the Exchange Shed, was preparing her team. She discovered HeartWorks through a Rosies’ social media post. The idea struck her immediately – she didn’t always have the time to volunteer face-to-face, but she could offer something powerful, an entry point into stable employment.
“I can contribute,” she thought. “I can give someone a workplace that feels safe.”
The program aligned with the core values of her business – we before me, dignity, respect and treating everyone as equals. Megan had grown up with stability, but she knew that not everyone had. HeartWorks felt like an opportunity to pay it forward.
Before Ben arrived, she gathered the team and explained that their new colleague was stepping into something big—that he might need gentleness, patience and open communication. “Everyone is the same here,” Megan reminded them. “Treat people the way you want to be treated, staff and customers too. No cranky faces.”
Expectations were clear: communicate early, ask for help, take things slowly and come as you are.
Ben’s first week at the Exchange Shed was, in his words, “nerve-wracking.” The work is physical; sorting, counting, moving constantly, and the environment can be busy. But what struck him first wasn’t the noise or the pace – it was the people.
“They’re pretty welcoming,” he said. “Just by being themselves.”
There was no test to pass, no pressure to impress. Just a group of coworkers who treated him like he belonged.
And then there was the moment, the small but significant one, when he pulled on his uniform for the first time. A shirt, a sense of identity, and the quiet pride of standing among the team. “It was nice to be part of something,” Ben said.
Megan reinforced that belonging every chance she got. She’s known among the team for the way she shows care: the snacks in the break room, the sushi she surprised them with while the warehouse was under repair. “She’s very giving,” Ben said. “It made me feel very grateful.”
His HeartWorks’ Employment Mentor, Bianca, added another layer of support; gentle conversations, encouragement and understanding that made hard days easier to face.
Slowly, the shape of Ben’s days changed: work routines steadied him; counting bottles kept his mind sharp and showing up, even on days when his anxiety was overwhelming, started to have an impact. And little by little, the world outside work felt less intimidating.
“I’m not as nervous about going to the shops anymore,” he said. The anxiety still existed, but it no longer dictated what he did.
Financial stability followed. Confidence followed. And perhaps most noticeable to Megan; conversations followed.
Ben started chatting with coworkers—about his family, his weekends and small pieces of his life he once held closely. “Ben is definitely more open,” Megan observed. For a workplace where most conversations happen while calling out numbers— “38 cans!”—this growth mattered.
“He integrated well,” Megan said. “He’s no different to anyone else here. That’s the whole point.”
For Megan, the impact of HeartWorks isn’t only about one person’s journey. It’s the ripple effect inside the workplace.
Her staff have grown more aware, more patient and more understanding. They’ve learned that sometimes people just need a hand and that the hand you offer can change someone more than you realise.
She recommends the program wholeheartedly but with an honest word of advice, “You have to be flexible. Set expectations early. And understand it won’t be perfect straight away.”
But as Ben’s journey shows, it can be transformative.
Ben has advice for anyone who is thinking about connecting with HeartWorks and taking those first steps back into employment.
“Give it a go. Talk openly and believe in yourself. Show up even on the tough days, that’s how you grow and remember you’ve got people who care about you.”
For a young man who once struggled to step inside a shopping centre, stepping into a workplace in uniform and with steady shoulders was no small feat. With the support of HeartWorks, an understanding manager and a team who believed in him, Ben didn’t just find a job.
He found space to breathe.
He found community.
He found purpose bit by bit, shift by shift.
And he proved, most of all, that courage doesn’t always look loud. Sometimes it looks like showing up on a Monday morning ready to try again.



