What do you think?
Rate this book
Hope
After tragedy, how do we find hope? A memoir about what it takes to get through the very worst of times from Rosie Batty - a woman who has experienced tragedy, who had lost all hope, yet now is intent on finding it again.
On a warm summer's evening in February 2014, eleven-year-old Luke Batty was killed by his father at cricket practice. It was a horrific act of family violence that shocked Australia.
The next morning, his mother Rosie bravely stood before the media. Her powerful and gut-wrenching words about family violence galvanised the nation and catapulted her into the spotlight. From that day on, Rosie Batty campaigned tirelessly to protect women and children, winning hearts and minds with her courage and compassion, singlehandedly changing the conversation around domestic violence in this country. Rosie's remarkable efforts were recognised when she became the 2015 Australian of the Year and a year later she was named one of the World's Greatest Leaders by Fortune magazine. However, behind Rosie's steely public resolve and seemingly unbreakable spirit, she was a mum grieving the loss of her adored son.
What happens when you become an accidental hero? What happens the day after the worst day of your life? What happens when you are forced to confront the emptiness and silence of a house that once buzzed with the energy of a young son?
You go to dark places from which you're not sure you'll ever recover.
Following on from her runaway best-seller A Mother's Story, which detailed the lead up to her son's murder, Hope shares what happened to Rosie the day after the worst day of her life and how she reclaimed hope when all hope was lost. She shares her struggles with anxiety, PTSD, self-doubt and self-loathing and how she finally confronted her grief. She shares the stories of those who have inspired her to keep going, and given her hope when she needed it most. In this heartfelt, and at times heartbreaking memoir, Rosie tells how she found the light on her darkest days and how she found the hope to carry on.
On a warm summer's evening in February 2014, eleven-year-old Luke Batty was killed by his father at cricket practice. It was a horrific act of family violence that shocked Australia.
The next morning, his mother Rosie bravely stood before the media. Her powerful and gut-wrenching words about family violence galvanised the nation and catapulted her into the spotlight. From that day on, Rosie Batty campaigned tirelessly to protect women and children, winning hearts and minds with her courage and compassion, singlehandedly changing the conversation around domestic violence in this country. Rosie's remarkable efforts were recognised when she became the 2015 Australian of the Year and a year later she was named one of the World's Greatest Leaders by Fortune magazine. However, behind Rosie's steely public resolve and seemingly unbreakable spirit, she was a mum grieving the loss of her adored son.
What happens when you become an accidental hero? What happens the day after the worst day of your life? What happens when you are forced to confront the emptiness and silence of a house that once buzzed with the energy of a young son?
You go to dark places from which you're not sure you'll ever recover.
Following on from her runaway best-seller A Mother's Story, which detailed the lead up to her son's murder, Hope shares what happened to Rosie the day after the worst day of her life and how she reclaimed hope when all hope was lost. She shares her struggles with anxiety, PTSD, self-doubt and self-loathing and how she finally confronted her grief. She shares the stories of those who have inspired her to keep going, and given her hope when she needed it most. In this heartfelt, and at times heartbreaking memoir, Rosie tells how she found the light on her darkest days and how she found the hope to carry on.
288 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 2024
28 people are currently reading
160 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 27 of 27 reviews
July 12, 2024
Rosie is outstanding.
In every way you could imagine.
Narrating her book with a lovely voice. Faltering in places, giving the reader a devastatingly raw experience.
The story of the authors’ life is one we know, it is also one we wish we did not know of. As Rosie states so clearly, it is also one which the rest of the world can say with relief I am glad this is not me. For Rosie, this is her life. She did not allow the most tragic act imaginable to ruin her life, she ploughed on, less than 24 hours later and created the machine that is her, and soon after, the foundation named in honour of her son.
Her story tells us with intimacy not only her personal story and the death of her beautiful son, but the story of SO MANY OTHERS affected by family violence. Rosie tells us the journey of her own experience, she relates the too numerous families, individuals, and communities she comes across that are affect by the insidious phenomenon that is family violence. An act of terrorism.
This is Rosie's story from the heart, I shed tears, and I was in awe. Grace personified. Especially in the face of those who hate (an issue I didn't wish to dwell on here, but unfortunately is true).
Remarkable. Absolutely recommended to those who are able to, though well advised of the trigger warnings on violent situations.
I listened to this via BorrowBox and my public library, this should be recommended reading in so many institutions, I know Rosie's first book A Mother's Story is on a reading list at the University at which I work.
Bless this exceptional woman, who holds herself (outwardly) with tremendous grace.
In every way you could imagine.
Narrating her book with a lovely voice. Faltering in places, giving the reader a devastatingly raw experience.
The story of the authors’ life is one we know, it is also one we wish we did not know of. As Rosie states so clearly, it is also one which the rest of the world can say with relief I am glad this is not me. For Rosie, this is her life. She did not allow the most tragic act imaginable to ruin her life, she ploughed on, less than 24 hours later and created the machine that is her, and soon after, the foundation named in honour of her son.
Her story tells us with intimacy not only her personal story and the death of her beautiful son, but the story of SO MANY OTHERS affected by family violence. Rosie tells us the journey of her own experience, she relates the too numerous families, individuals, and communities she comes across that are affect by the insidious phenomenon that is family violence. An act of terrorism.
This is Rosie's story from the heart, I shed tears, and I was in awe. Grace personified. Especially in the face of those who hate (an issue I didn't wish to dwell on here, but unfortunately is true).
Remarkable. Absolutely recommended to those who are able to, though well advised of the trigger warnings on violent situations.
I listened to this via BorrowBox and my public library, this should be recommended reading in so many institutions, I know Rosie's first book A Mother's Story is on a reading list at the University at which I work.
Bless this exceptional woman, who holds herself (outwardly) with tremendous grace.
June 7, 2024
I still so clearly remember watching Batty speaking to the media so soon after the murder of her son, Luke. She spoke so profoundly and with raw emotion and conviction about her son’s murder and the over arching effect of domestic violence. I was teaching at the time and knew so many eleven-year-old boys from the same mould as Luke, a bit gangly, loved their sport, had the markings of a fine young man. The image of his father killing him is beyond comprehension. The thoughts that would have gone through Luke’s mind are beyond comprehension. The hatred in the father’s mind towards Rosie is beyond comprehension.
Leigh Sales wrote a short book “Any Ordinary Day” about every day, ordinary people who through chance are suddenly thrust into the media spotlight. They are then expected to make profane insightful statements on their predicament. Walter Mikac, Stuart Diver, Ralph and Cathy Kelly, Bruce and Denise Morcombe, Dr Richard Harris and Dr Craig Challen and Grace Tame come to mind. Batty talks about Lindy Chamberland and her reaction to the death of her daughter, Azaria (who would have been 44 years old this year.) Surprisingly, most have been extremely successful at this task. Rosie Batty? Overwhelmingly.
Another reason I am an admirer of this amazing woman is that when she attracts the attention of slovenly obese, obnoxious, man-titted, vituperative characters like Mark Latham (I find it satisfying to describe bullies like Latham in these terms, and I would say it to his face.) Mr Porky was later joined by the union Neanderthal and world class misogynistic bully, John Setka. Does anyone advise these 1950s chauvinists that they are on a hiding to nowhere? No, they are so trapped in a bygone era they’re oblivious to the fact that the world has moved on. She must be saying and doing the right thing. Critical bullies like Latham and Setka are jealous that a woman is getting media attention. Why Latham was ever given a column in the Fin Review is beyond me.
Finally, I find all versions of domestic violence abhorrent but where a male slaughters his child(ren) as an act of revenge towards an ex-partner is particularly soul destroying and tear inducing.
The recent murdering of two-year-old Rowan by his father in Lismore, Jack and Jennifer Edwards, murdered by their father at Pennant Hills. This bastard achieved what he wanted when their mother, Olga, took her own life five months later. Then we have Rowan Baxter, in February 2020 murdering his wife and three children before topping himself. This second-rate footballer was described as ‘a good bloke’. As Batty writes, “Good blokes don’t kill their families.”
These males give new meaning to the term narcissism. It is a type of psychotic egomania or vainglory. The need to punish someone who, at some stage they must have loved. The ultimate punishment, take from them the thing they love the most, their children.
Batty tells the story of her life from Luke’s death till 2023. Anniversaries of his birth and death drown her in reflective sorrow. The pain does not ease, it just becomes a blunt pain rather than a sharp one. She often reflects on how old Luke would be and what he would be doing if he’d lived.
She was made Australian of the Year in 2015. It was a choice that changed the award. Prior to her it was sportspeople, film stars, academics, since the awardees have often been social activist.
2015 was an incredibly hectic year for Rosie Batty and the stress was enormous, but she managed to use her position to broadcast her message across the country. She writes of some of the amazing people she met and worked with. She described the type of domestic violence Aboriginal woman face after she visited remote settlements and Alice Springs.
Batty writes emotionally about the toll her activities have had on both her mental and physical health. Another reason I admirer her is that she is a walker. She has walked numerous famous walks around the world and seeks the benefits of walking by walking her dogs around her local environs.
In the concluding pages Barry muses over her own vincibility. She writes about as a sixty year old she can feel the consequences of aging through her decline in fitness and flexibility. She ties this into the loss of her child as she ages.
Sadly, the Luke Batty Foundation closed down. She wrote about the distress this caused her. In my reading she never really addresses the reason. She mentions the board wanting to take the organisation in a different direction. I can only surmise that conflict arose between her and the board. This appears to happen with a number of charitable organisations.
This book is a fine read. Rosie writes with passion and commitment. And, to all those keyboard musclemen, she’s not going away any time soon and your squeaky voices are being drowned out by a community that wants action over domestic and family violence.
There are some who claim men suffer from domestic violence. Batty's response is, "so how many men have been killed by their female partner or ex-partner?" One aspect of domestic violence she opened my eyes to was that men don't live a life of fear that women do. So many victims lived for months and years with relentless intimidation and brutality. She also explains that 'leaving' is not the easy option that so many ill-informed claim it to be.
There needs to be serious judicial responses to domestic violence and no tolerance of repeat offenders. For violent men who wish to change their behaviour there needs to be well funded resources to help them change. Action needs to be evidence based.
Since she concluded her book we have seen the murder of a two year old in Lismore by the child’s father. Molly Ticehurst a beautiful young woman in Forbes was murdered by her ex-boyfriend Mark Bombara. Her young daughter is now an orphan. In Perth Jennifer Petelczyc, 59, and her youngest daughter Gretl, 18, were slain because they had accepted the killer’s wife into their home.
As I write there is the ongoing trial over the murder of Charlise Mutton.
As a school principal I witnessed and had to deal with partners who were so lovey-dovey and all over each other in the school grounds while waiting for their child, but then months later when they separated, couldn’t be in the same room together. I developed a principal’s persona that countered the male bullying that some men tried over issues of court decisions about custody and access. It always interested me how they lacked their ‘toughness’ when dealing with someone who knew the rules, wasn’t emotionally involved and stood toe to toe with any intimidatory tactics. I can’t say the same for the bureaucrats in district office, and that appears to be the issue with some police and judicial officers.
Leigh Sales wrote a short book “Any Ordinary Day” about every day, ordinary people who through chance are suddenly thrust into the media spotlight. They are then expected to make profane insightful statements on their predicament. Walter Mikac, Stuart Diver, Ralph and Cathy Kelly, Bruce and Denise Morcombe, Dr Richard Harris and Dr Craig Challen and Grace Tame come to mind. Batty talks about Lindy Chamberland and her reaction to the death of her daughter, Azaria (who would have been 44 years old this year.) Surprisingly, most have been extremely successful at this task. Rosie Batty? Overwhelmingly.
Another reason I am an admirer of this amazing woman is that when she attracts the attention of slovenly obese, obnoxious, man-titted, vituperative characters like Mark Latham (I find it satisfying to describe bullies like Latham in these terms, and I would say it to his face.) Mr Porky was later joined by the union Neanderthal and world class misogynistic bully, John Setka. Does anyone advise these 1950s chauvinists that they are on a hiding to nowhere? No, they are so trapped in a bygone era they’re oblivious to the fact that the world has moved on. She must be saying and doing the right thing. Critical bullies like Latham and Setka are jealous that a woman is getting media attention. Why Latham was ever given a column in the Fin Review is beyond me.
Finally, I find all versions of domestic violence abhorrent but where a male slaughters his child(ren) as an act of revenge towards an ex-partner is particularly soul destroying and tear inducing.
The recent murdering of two-year-old Rowan by his father in Lismore, Jack and Jennifer Edwards, murdered by their father at Pennant Hills. This bastard achieved what he wanted when their mother, Olga, took her own life five months later. Then we have Rowan Baxter, in February 2020 murdering his wife and three children before topping himself. This second-rate footballer was described as ‘a good bloke’. As Batty writes, “Good blokes don’t kill their families.”
These males give new meaning to the term narcissism. It is a type of psychotic egomania or vainglory. The need to punish someone who, at some stage they must have loved. The ultimate punishment, take from them the thing they love the most, their children.
Batty tells the story of her life from Luke’s death till 2023. Anniversaries of his birth and death drown her in reflective sorrow. The pain does not ease, it just becomes a blunt pain rather than a sharp one. She often reflects on how old Luke would be and what he would be doing if he’d lived.
She was made Australian of the Year in 2015. It was a choice that changed the award. Prior to her it was sportspeople, film stars, academics, since the awardees have often been social activist.
2015 was an incredibly hectic year for Rosie Batty and the stress was enormous, but she managed to use her position to broadcast her message across the country. She writes of some of the amazing people she met and worked with. She described the type of domestic violence Aboriginal woman face after she visited remote settlements and Alice Springs.
Batty writes emotionally about the toll her activities have had on both her mental and physical health. Another reason I admirer her is that she is a walker. She has walked numerous famous walks around the world and seeks the benefits of walking by walking her dogs around her local environs.
In the concluding pages Barry muses over her own vincibility. She writes about as a sixty year old she can feel the consequences of aging through her decline in fitness and flexibility. She ties this into the loss of her child as she ages.
Sadly, the Luke Batty Foundation closed down. She wrote about the distress this caused her. In my reading she never really addresses the reason. She mentions the board wanting to take the organisation in a different direction. I can only surmise that conflict arose between her and the board. This appears to happen with a number of charitable organisations.
This book is a fine read. Rosie writes with passion and commitment. And, to all those keyboard musclemen, she’s not going away any time soon and your squeaky voices are being drowned out by a community that wants action over domestic and family violence.
There are some who claim men suffer from domestic violence. Batty's response is, "so how many men have been killed by their female partner or ex-partner?" One aspect of domestic violence she opened my eyes to was that men don't live a life of fear that women do. So many victims lived for months and years with relentless intimidation and brutality. She also explains that 'leaving' is not the easy option that so many ill-informed claim it to be.
There needs to be serious judicial responses to domestic violence and no tolerance of repeat offenders. For violent men who wish to change their behaviour there needs to be well funded resources to help them change. Action needs to be evidence based.
Since she concluded her book we have seen the murder of a two year old in Lismore by the child’s father. Molly Ticehurst a beautiful young woman in Forbes was murdered by her ex-boyfriend Mark Bombara. Her young daughter is now an orphan. In Perth Jennifer Petelczyc, 59, and her youngest daughter Gretl, 18, were slain because they had accepted the killer’s wife into their home.
As I write there is the ongoing trial over the murder of Charlise Mutton.
As a school principal I witnessed and had to deal with partners who were so lovey-dovey and all over each other in the school grounds while waiting for their child, but then months later when they separated, couldn’t be in the same room together. I developed a principal’s persona that countered the male bullying that some men tried over issues of court decisions about custody and access. It always interested me how they lacked their ‘toughness’ when dealing with someone who knew the rules, wasn’t emotionally involved and stood toe to toe with any intimidatory tactics. I can’t say the same for the bureaucrats in district office, and that appears to be the issue with some police and judicial officers.
April 4, 2024
It is the cruellest act to have your child snatched from your life, especially when they are just out of arm’s reach.Luke Batty was murdered on 12 February 2014. The fact that his father perpetrated this violence continues to horrify me. I am acutely aware of how privileged I am that I will never be able to comprehend the grief that Rosie Batty, Luke’s Mum, lives with.
I’m in awe of Rosie. Her courage and resilience, tested every day for a decade now, is astounding. The fact that she’s able to put one foot in front of the other in any capacity amazes me. That she has spent the past ten years advocating for change, telling her story countless times and giving of herself to support others who have experienced domestic and family violence? There just aren’t words for that.
This isn’t the kind of book you look forward to reading in the traditional sense. It is one that I preordered and began reading as soon as it finished downloading on my Kindle, though. If Rosie was going to be brave enough to tell me even part of her story, then I wanted to hear her.
Nothing and no one can prepare you for the day after the worst day of your life. The sun comes up, but it’s not as bright. Life is never the same again.I’m not naive enough to think that I could hold any part of her pain for her by reading her story, although I wish I could. My story, while it pales in comparison to Rosie’s, can make people uncomfortable and unsure of how to respond. This is part of the reason why I didn’t want to shy away from Rosie’s story, even though I knew it was going to hurt to read.
I was infuriated to learn that Rosie was forced to sit in the back of a police car - alone - for hours, near where her son was just murdered. The hate she has received as a result of her advocacy, by “making the invisible visible”, made my blood boil.
It was only once I started reading this book that I realised I’d gone about this backwards. I discovered A Mother’s Story, the book I should have read first. I want to get to know Luke, and learn more about Rosie’s life prior to the event that turned her before into after.
While Rosie’s story is unique, unfortunately it is not an uncommon one. Worldwide, more than one third of women have been beaten, coerced into sex or abused in some way. On average, a woman dies violently every week in Australia, usually at the hands of someone she knows. Police get called to one domestic violence matter every two minutes. About one in six women and one in nine men experience physical and/or sexual abuse before the age of 15.Something that stood out to me about who Rosie is was the fact that, even in her memoir, she’s not making it all about her, when she would absolutely be justified in doing so. Instead, she shines a light on other women who have experienced domestic and family violence. Some, like Rosie, have become household names in Australia. Some, I was introduced to here.
The sentence that hit me the hardest was when Rosie was talking about being a mother.
I have memories of being a mother and the experience of what motherhood was like, but I’m not a mother any more.One of my takeaways from this book was the gentle reminder that people’s responses to trauma vary and that’s okay. You don’t know how you will respond unless it happens to you. Let’s hope you never have to find out.
I have the greatest respect for Rosie. She’s real. She hates that you know who she is because of what happened to Luke. She’s authentic. She doesn’t gloss over the dark days and doesn’t big-note herself, although she certainly could with all that she’s achieved in spite of what life’s taken from her.
She’s someone who has found pockets of joy. She enjoys being in nature, she loves animals and she’s an accomplished swearer. I’ll probably never have the opportunity to sit down and talk to Rosie but, if I did, it would be a privilege to be able to laugh and cry with her. She sounds like a kindred spirit.
Sometimes you just have to dust off your feathers, stretch your wings and find hope to take flight.Content warnings include .
Blog - https://schizanthusnerd.com
June 24, 2024
Rosie Batty is a woman whom l've come to greatly admire, after delving into her debut memoir, A Mother's Story. Eager for more insights into her life, I was intrigued by the release of her latest memoir, Hope. However, to my disappointment, it didn't captivate me in the same way.
This memoir felt disjointed, resembling a collection of unfiltered diary entries rather than following a cohesive chronological narrative. There were instances where I felt Rosie's storytelling was scattered, such as her reflections on her time as Australian of the Year, which could have been consolidated into a dedicated chapter. While I valued her insights into domestic violence stories from her advocacy work, I found the inclusion of statistics and encounters with journalists to be distracting.
Overall, Hope fell short compared to the triumph of Rosie's first book, but she is a woman I still admire nonetheless.
This memoir felt disjointed, resembling a collection of unfiltered diary entries rather than following a cohesive chronological narrative. There were instances where I felt Rosie's storytelling was scattered, such as her reflections on her time as Australian of the Year, which could have been consolidated into a dedicated chapter. While I valued her insights into domestic violence stories from her advocacy work, I found the inclusion of statistics and encounters with journalists to be distracting.
Overall, Hope fell short compared to the triumph of Rosie's first book, but she is a woman I still admire nonetheless.
March 18, 2025
Although Rosie has done some amazing work and is extremely resilient, I did not feel like I gained anything from this book, and the stories were more of a reminder of how increasingly prevalent domestic and family violence is in the community, and working in the sector also doesn't help that perception
April 11, 2024
A powerful memoir about finding hope and purpose after tragedy. Rosie Batty’s story highlights the pervasive epidemic of family violence within Australia. It was fascinating to learn about Batty’s experience as Australian of the Year and being thrust into the public spotlight, with very little guidance. Batty’s eloquent commentary pertaining to the relentless misogyny and victim blaming she faced from far right media organisations was extremely disturbing. Above all else, Batty is the personification of resilience. Choosing to live each day, supporting victims of family violence and creating a legacy for her child Luke Batty.
January 5, 2025
Rosie is an amazing woman, to have to have dealt with all that she did. There were chapters that just made me want to cry, especially towards the end of the book and other times where I was just exhausted by all the terrible things that had happened, not just to her. Her message is that we need change and it saddens me that this change doesn’t seem to be happening! A great book but may be quite difficult to read for some people.
December 15, 2024
Incredibly moving, inspiring and powerful. There were many tear jerking moments. Rosie is so brutally honest and raw. What makes this book so moving is the many moments that she pays respect to and honours other victims and survivors of family and domestic violence.
July 30, 2024
Batty is a beautiful soul, but this memoir felt a little disjointed in places and was heavily reliant on a recap of her professional working presence.
October 28, 2024
Please note: If this post raises issues for you…. if you or someone you care about is experiencing family violence,
please call the 1800 respect national 24/7 help line. You can also visit their website to access telephone or online counselling and other resources and advice.
Given the high profile of Rosie Batty AO for her role in raising awareness about family violence, it's possible to think that you know her story, especially if you've already read A Mother's Story published in 2015. But you don't.
In some ways, we read what we might expect to see. There is the story of what happened to Luke, and of Rosie's astonishing decision to speak out to the media the day afterwards. Her speeches from the 2015 Australian of the Year Award and other events are included, and she is frank about her grief, her self-doubts, and the value of the support she has had. But there are also chilling accounts of vituperative social media comments from people who blame her, including the NSW MP Mark Latham who has sunk to a new low in my estimation. There are other insights about her work with Indigenous women who suffer appalling levels of violence, and reports about her presence at international forums as well.
She also writes about how important ongoing support is. Giving examples of other women who have suffered unimaginable horror and violence, she reminds us that it's not just those anniversaries which are hard, it's difficult 'firsts', like the first time she visited family in England without Luke. It's also times like seeing his friends having experiences that Luke would have had: finishing school, having driving lessons, turning into young adults. He would have been twenty-one this year. The pain never goes away, and it never will. But sometimes because of her public persona as a woman of great strength and courage, people think she's okay when she's not.
And though the campaign she led for so long has been of immeasurable value to individuals and to us as a society, the time comes when grief must be confronted, and strangely, it was the pandemic that forced Rosie to slow down and give herself the time and space that grief counsellors advise. She took some solace in walks with the dogs during the lockdowns, and since then has also done some major walks, such as the Larapinta Trail and the English coast to coast walk that featured in the novel I've just read, You Are Here .
Of particular interest is what she tells us about Sweden.
please call the 1800 respect national 24/7 help line. You can also visit their website to access telephone or online counselling and other resources and advice.
Given the high profile of Rosie Batty AO for her role in raising awareness about family violence, it's possible to think that you know her story, especially if you've already read A Mother's Story published in 2015. But you don't.
In some ways, we read what we might expect to see. There is the story of what happened to Luke, and of Rosie's astonishing decision to speak out to the media the day afterwards. Her speeches from the 2015 Australian of the Year Award and other events are included, and she is frank about her grief, her self-doubts, and the value of the support she has had. But there are also chilling accounts of vituperative social media comments from people who blame her, including the NSW MP Mark Latham who has sunk to a new low in my estimation. There are other insights about her work with Indigenous women who suffer appalling levels of violence, and reports about her presence at international forums as well.
She also writes about how important ongoing support is. Giving examples of other women who have suffered unimaginable horror and violence, she reminds us that it's not just those anniversaries which are hard, it's difficult 'firsts', like the first time she visited family in England without Luke. It's also times like seeing his friends having experiences that Luke would have had: finishing school, having driving lessons, turning into young adults. He would have been twenty-one this year. The pain never goes away, and it never will. But sometimes because of her public persona as a woman of great strength and courage, people think she's okay when she's not.
And though the campaign she led for so long has been of immeasurable value to individuals and to us as a society, the time comes when grief must be confronted, and strangely, it was the pandemic that forced Rosie to slow down and give herself the time and space that grief counsellors advise. She took some solace in walks with the dogs during the lockdowns, and since then has also done some major walks, such as the Larapinta Trail and the English coast to coast walk that featured in the novel I've just read, You Are Here .
Of particular interest is what she tells us about Sweden.
According to the World Economic Forum in 2015, Sweden was considered the gender-equality capital of the world. The country's rate of women in employment was high, women outperformed men in education and women were well represented in government and in the parliament. On paper, it seemed like the Nordic nation had its act together, but behind closed doors it was a very different scene. Sweden also had (and still has) one of the highest rates of domestic violence in the OECD.
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2024/10/28/h...
November 11, 2024
A heartfelt, raw reflection on a terrible tragedy from a very brave and inspirational lady.
Rosie not only pours out her heart about her own loss, but acknowledges others who have suffered from domestic violence, and those who are working to try to eliminate future violence. She laments that 10 years on from her own loss, despite many promises and plans, women are still being murdered by partners.
After tragedy, how do we find hope? A memoir about what it takes to get through the very worst of times from Rosie Batty - a woman who has experienced tragedy, who had lost all hope, yet now is intent on finding it again.
On a warm summer's evening in February 2014, eleven-year-old Luke Batty was killed by his father at cricket practice. It was a horrific act of family violence that shocked Australia.
The next morning, his mother Rosie bravely stood before the media. Her powerful and gut-wrenching words about family violence galvanised the nation and catapulted her into the spotlight. From that day on, Rosie Batty campaigned tirelessly to protect women and children, winning hearts and minds with her courage and compassion, singlehandedly changing the conversation around domestic violence in this country. Rosie's remarkable efforts were recognised when she became the 2015 Australian of the Year and a year later she was named one of the World's Greatest Leaders by Fortune magazine. However, behind Rosie's steely public resolve and seemingly unbreakable spirit, she was a mum grieving the loss of her adored son.
What happens when you become an accidental hero? What happens the day after the worst day of your life? What happens when you are forced to confront the emptiness and silence of a house that once buzzed with the energy of a young son?
You go to dark places from which you're not sure you'll ever recover.
Following on from her runaway best-seller A Mother's Story, which detailed the lead up to her son's murder, Hope shares what happened to Rosie the day after the worst day of her life and how she reclaimed hope when all hope was lost. She shares her struggles with anxiety, PTSD, self-doubt and self-loathing and how she finally confronted her grief. She shares the stories of those who have inspired her to keep going, and given her hope when she needed it most. In this heartfelt, and at times heartbreaking memoir, Rosie tells how she found the light on her darkest days and how she found the hope to carry on.
Rosie not only pours out her heart about her own loss, but acknowledges others who have suffered from domestic violence, and those who are working to try to eliminate future violence. She laments that 10 years on from her own loss, despite many promises and plans, women are still being murdered by partners.
After tragedy, how do we find hope? A memoir about what it takes to get through the very worst of times from Rosie Batty - a woman who has experienced tragedy, who had lost all hope, yet now is intent on finding it again.
On a warm summer's evening in February 2014, eleven-year-old Luke Batty was killed by his father at cricket practice. It was a horrific act of family violence that shocked Australia.
The next morning, his mother Rosie bravely stood before the media. Her powerful and gut-wrenching words about family violence galvanised the nation and catapulted her into the spotlight. From that day on, Rosie Batty campaigned tirelessly to protect women and children, winning hearts and minds with her courage and compassion, singlehandedly changing the conversation around domestic violence in this country. Rosie's remarkable efforts were recognised when she became the 2015 Australian of the Year and a year later she was named one of the World's Greatest Leaders by Fortune magazine. However, behind Rosie's steely public resolve and seemingly unbreakable spirit, she was a mum grieving the loss of her adored son.
What happens when you become an accidental hero? What happens the day after the worst day of your life? What happens when you are forced to confront the emptiness and silence of a house that once buzzed with the energy of a young son?
You go to dark places from which you're not sure you'll ever recover.
Following on from her runaway best-seller A Mother's Story, which detailed the lead up to her son's murder, Hope shares what happened to Rosie the day after the worst day of her life and how she reclaimed hope when all hope was lost. She shares her struggles with anxiety, PTSD, self-doubt and self-loathing and how she finally confronted her grief. She shares the stories of those who have inspired her to keep going, and given her hope when she needed it most. In this heartfelt, and at times heartbreaking memoir, Rosie tells how she found the light on her darkest days and how she found the hope to carry on.
April 12, 2024
This book touches you on multiple levels. It is heartbreaking, confronting and informative and yet provides hope despite the endless number of victims of domestic violence affected each week in Australia. No matter how difficult the subject matter is, it is something we should all be aware of, not shy away from, and should continually fight to encourage change and end violence against women and kids. Rosie lays bare her emotions to talk about the loss of her son Luke and the ongoing effect this has had on her, as well as talking about her time as Australian of the Year and the ability to use this platform to create greater awareness for the need to drive change. I felt so many emotions in reading this, and found myself crying in several parts, as I learnt about the atrocities some women have been subjected to. I have so much respect for Rosie in writing this book.
July 8, 2024
This woman is a star. I would rate her 5/5 as a human being. She is an immensely resilient, courageous, generous, loving, earnest go-getter. But this isn't a very interesting memoir. Batty identifies all the key events and speeches she has participated/ spoken in, and the various high profile people she's worked with (or been vilified by) i.e. politicians, NGOs etc. She provides excerpts of speeches she has made about DV, briefly identifies moments of emotional breakdown, and actions she has taken to manage her grief (family visits, marathon running, homesteading, charity work). But there isn't depth to the narrative, she fails to convey what it truly feels like to be a mother whose son was murdered by her estranged husband. I see what she's done, but not what's in her heart. A shining example of a grief-based memoir is Paul Kalanithi's "When Breath Becomes Air".
June 9, 2024
The first book broke me, there’s nothing more that can possibly be said about how sad and violent it was when her ex killed their 11 year old son.
This was an interesting follow up. What was it like being Australian of the Year when it’s because your son was killed by his dad. Misogyny in Australia doesn’t seem to be getting better and poor Ms Batty copped some of the absolute worst in people. Ms Batty was an amazing advocate and she bought the family violence conversation out into the open. But we still have a long way to go.
Thank you for all of your efforts
This was an interesting follow up. What was it like being Australian of the Year when it’s because your son was killed by his dad. Misogyny in Australia doesn’t seem to be getting better and poor Ms Batty copped some of the absolute worst in people. Ms Batty was an amazing advocate and she bought the family violence conversation out into the open. But we still have a long way to go.
Thank you for all of your efforts
February 23, 2025
So glad I listened to this as Rosie narrates it beautifully herself with at times very raw emotion. To live through what she did with the murder of her son by her ex partner and to then be thrust into a spotlight she never chose to step into was so horrifically tragic. But Rosie became a courageous crusader in her work for change, education and the understanding of family violence and forged a path that contained purpose and meaning. I wish her peace in this world till she can reunited with her beautiful boy.
December 30, 2024
While this book may outline so much that is wrong with today's society, it did give me hope for the future. Reading about all the strong women, who have suffered immensely and pushed past the pain to make a difference, was truly uplifting. It was also great to read from Rosie's perspective and hear her voice on every page. I learned so much.
But also, there were so many typos in this edition - 3.5 stars
But also, there were so many typos in this edition - 3.5 stars
Read
June 4, 2024Rosie Batty is a much better person than I could ever hope to be. Her compassion, fierceness and clear-eyed realism is both inspirational and profoundly depressing. All these years since her son was killed by his father, and yet, reading this book it feels like nothing much has improved.
Oh and Mark Latham's behaviour is appalling.
Oh and Mark Latham's behaviour is appalling.
June 21, 2024
Inspiring and moving memoir by one of our most powerful advocates for stopping domestic and gender-based violence. Sadly, despite her efforts, it seems to continue unabated. Sickening to hear of the misogynist trolls and victim blamers who sit in judgement on women like Rosie Batty.
January 19, 2025
While Rosie Batty has been through something none of us ever want to go through, this book was not just about her, but about others who have experienced extreme family violence. Whilst I knew some of what she had done in that area, this book told me so much more.
May 22, 2024
What a woman - Rosie gives us all hope ❤️
December 11, 2024
As named Hope sums up Rosie’s view after the tragic death of her son Luke. Gave me a better insight into domestic violence and how we all need to help change attitudes
February 5, 2025
An amazing lady! How has she done it & how does she continue!!
4.5 🌟
4.5 🌟
March 4, 2025
A true inspiration.
May 18, 2025
Listened on BorrowBox.
January 5, 2026
Important to read and important to act to reduce family violence.
March 25, 2025
Thankyou Rosie
Thankyou Rosie for sharing your story it was a very hard road to travel but you have paved a way for many changes and opened people’s eyes I highly recommend reading this book
It is well written ad honest
Thankyou Rosie for sharing your story it was a very hard road to travel but you have paved a way for many changes and opened people’s eyes I highly recommend reading this book
It is well written ad honest
October 8, 2024
Rosie Batty will always gets 5 stars from me
Displaying 1 - 27 of 27 reviews