Nina’s story

Nina had a successful career as an IT engineer, working in top institutions. But beneath the achievements was a lifetime of untreated trauma, years of hate and discrimination for her gender identity. When the COVID pandemic hit, everything unravelled. She started drinking to cope, and things spiralled – instability, lost tenancies, and serious health complications. Nina felt lost, like there was nowhere she could safely be herself. Until we stepped in. We gave her a place to rebuild her health, her confidence, and her identity.

Raised in a homophobic family and facing relentless bullying at school, Nina’s childhood was marked by isolation and trauma.

“My father said things like, ‘There will be no homosexuals in this family – or they’ll be cast out.’ He was proud when a gay couple were fired from one of my uncle’s factories for being themselves. ‘Those people don’t deserve to live,’ he’d say.”

Nina was sent to a Catholic boarding school – but rather than being a place of escape, it became another kind of hell.

“Kids would throw things at me, kick me, pull my hair, because of my sexuality. They wouldn’t let me shower. I’d end up crying in the corner, trying to protect myself.

“My whole childhood taught me: survive first, feel later. Or not at all.”

Breaking away to build anew

At 17, Nina left school before graduating and headed to Paris. After a brief period of homelessness, she landed a job as a computer technician, worked hard, and climbed the ladder. By 26, she’d earned a Computer Science degree and built a thriving career.

Despite everything she’d achieved, Nina was struggling. She packed her bags and moved to London – chasing growth, freedom, and new beginnings.

“I was living in a sleek, expensive flat in East London – working hard, self-sufficient, and well-respected. On paper, it was a very good life. But mentally, I wasn’t doing well.

“I managed my mental health with strong medication, but that just numbed everything. It never addressed the root cause of my pain: childhood trauma.

“I started drinking a lot when COVID hit. Days blurred together – just me, trapped inside with nothing but my emotions. I didn’t know how to help myself. Eventually, work slipped away, and everything started to derail. I ended up in rehab four times.”

When everything fell apart

Rehab put Nina on the path to recovery, but months of treatment couldn’t undo a lifetime of trauma. She left with no money, no flat, and still carrying the same pain.

“Somewhere affordable came up – but then the landlord suddenly doubled the rent. I refused to pay and was served a Section 21.

“I went to the council for help, but when I walked into their office in a suit, they smiled and told me to move – and things got worse.

“My landlord cut off the water, electricity, and locked the toilets. I had to charge my phone in the corridor. I’d go to work, shower, and change there. Then one day, I came home and they’d locked me out completely, with all my stuff still inside. I had to break into my own flat.”

Nina lived like this for weeks before finding a place to live elsewhere. But when she arrived at the flat, someone was already living there. The agency had scammed her. The removal van turned around and dropped everything back at her old place. That was the final straw. Nina gave all her belongings away to local families, keeping only the clothes on her back and a rucksack.

All of this was happening while she was managing a severe skin condition she’d had since childhood, as well as an open wound from recent surgery.

She eventually found a place in Camden, but by then, just a roof over her head wasn’t enough to save her.

“My life was smashed. Destroyed. I had nothing to live for.”

“I was prescribed strong painkillers for the pain from my surgery wound, but I started taking them like sweets. It numbed everything. It was an escape.

“I phoned the hospital, crying, saying, ‘You have to fix it.’ They’d tell me the surgeon was gone or busy. I couldn’t cope. It was excruciating. I kept getting infections.”

A life hanging by a thread

It got too much. Nina wanted to end it all.

“I saved some painkillers and swallowed 50. My heart went into fibrillation. I lost consciousness. Everything went dark. I thought it was the end, and I was relieved. But it wasn’t. I woke up in the dark, unable to move.

“When I was in hospital, I had students visiting me – because I’m one of a kind. The doctors said no one survives what I did.”

Nina tried to return to her house in Camden, but the letting agency asked her to leave. She turned to sofa-surfing at a friend’s – it was a roof over her head, but she had to leave after a fight.

“I spent the night in a bin shed. It was February: cold and rainy. I didn’t sleep much. You can’t rest when you’re on the street. It’s scary.”

A bed for the night. Not a way out.

After that, Nina reached out for help. Stonewall found her some temporary shelter.

“I waited all day for the call from Stonewall. Just minutes before I gave up hope, they said they’d found me a hotel for the night. Thank God, I thought. It was chucking it down with rain – I was terrified of being on the streets again.”

Nina moved from hostel to hostel for a while. Around the same time, her open wound became badly infected – so much so that doctors feared it might be cancer.

“That was the lowest point of my entire existence. I was sure I was going to die. I believed I was living my final weeks alone, in a temporary hostel.”

Finally seen. Finally safe.

Thankfully, it wasn’t cancer. But Nina was still in crisis. She was desperate for safety – somewhere she could start to heal, both physically and mentally. That’s when she found us.

The beginning wasn’t easy. But over time, Nina found a sense of stability. A foundation. A way forward.

Once I built trust with the staff, only good things started happening. I had support and a base to get my wound stitched up. And I'm somewhere I can be who I want to be. It’s the first place I’ve felt like that.

“The staff at Single Homeless Project understand me, and respect me as a trans woman. They give me emotional support that aligns with that. They empowered me to change my name. That touched me.

“What hurt the most during all these years was not being able to live as my true self. I wouldn’t be where I am today without my transition. It’s helped me stop drinking and taking drugs. I look at myself in the mirror now, and I’m happy.

“Being a trans woman and homeless is incredibly hard. I wish there were more places like Single Homeless Project.”

Rebuilding body and soul

Since moving into our hostel, Nina has had the time and support to focus on her health. She has also taken part in sports sessions through our Achieving Potential programme.

“When Will from the sports team arrived, I couldn’t even move my arm. Our first sessions focused on regaining mobility and building strength. I wanted to dance – that was my goal. I now have the confidence to go to the gym every day by myself.

“If my trauma resurfaces now, I’ll go to the gym. I don’t need drink, drugs, or medication. It’s changed my world. When I have an emotional episode, I think about the gym – the good people I meet there, the classes, the connection of exercising together.”

Nina has come so far. She’s rebuilding her body, her confidence, and her love for life. She’s still early in her journey, but she already knows what’s next – a return to IT and a sleek flat in East London. This time, with the resilience, support, and tools to thrive.