‘I disappeared because it was easier not to be there’: Hugh Van Cuylenburg – By Robyn Doreian

To this day, my paternal grandmother, June, is the person who’s made me laugh the most. She called me “Hugh Boy” in her beautiful Sri Lankan accent. She was full of jokes and often forgot the punchline, but it didn’t matter.

Granny wowed our family with her curries but my favourite thing was the vanilla ice-cream she gave me and my younger siblings, Georgia and Josh, afterwards. It was always half-melted, as her freezer didn’t work properly, but we got so excited. She showed me what unconditional love looked and felt like.

My maternal grandmother, Joan, was a bit more formal but I knew she loved me because hers are still the warmest cuddles I’ve had. She was an extraordinary cook and I often play different characters when I’m putting my kids – Benji, 6, Elsie, 3, and Patrick, 10 months – to bed. One is named Cook-a-Roast Joan in honour of her roast dinners.

My mother, Elizabeth, is a teacher but she’s also my longest-standing mentor and teacher in life. She’s fiercely intelligent and remains an inspiringly committed mother. Through her constant and loving emotional check-ins, she taught me the superpower of emotional intelligence. She showed me how to show up for people when they are struggling.

Mum always validated what I was feeling. She’d help me find the emotion that lay beneath a problem and work towards the solution. I’m in awe of what she modelled, because my instinct as a parent is to the fix the problem straight away, but that is not the way to do it.

My sister, Georgia, is the strongest person I know. We’ve been through a lot together and love each other dearly, but growing up, her struggles with anorexia were too much for me at times. I disappeared because it was easier not to be there.

I was with Georgia when she was taken from my grandparents’ front yard and sexually assaulted at age three. I felt ashamed that I didn’t do anything, but I was only six. Her forgiveness has set me free as an adult.

My first celebrity crush was Cathy Freeman; as a kid, I had two posters of her on my wall. I’d worked out that she was eight years older than me, and I was hopeful that didn’t mean we couldn’t marry one day.

My first love was Christie, whom I met at Carey Baptist Grammar in Melbourne. It was my first experience of being in love and felt incredible. We were together for two years.

I was in my second year of an undergraduate degree when I met Anjali. I was blown away by her looks. We became best friends for probably 18 months. When we drifted away from our respective partners, our romantic relationship got serious very fast.

Anjali pushed me out of my comfort zone and we went to northern India, where we did volunteer teaching. It was the most challenging thing I’ve ever done, and everything I now do professionally, I owe to her. We are still very close.

I met my wife, Penny, when she was 13 and went on a one-off date with my brother, Josh. We reconnected 17 years later via Facebook. I’d been single for about six years when we met for coffee in Melbourne. After 10 minutes, I knew I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life. She made me feel I was enough. I felt safe around her. Her smile was also impossibly beautiful.

Penny is a writer and is working on a book about her journey with obsessive-compulsive disorder. There have been times when it’s been hard for her to leave the house, but I’ve never seen anyone fight so hard. She’s determined to stay on top of it, so she can be a good partner and a good mum.

Hugh van Cuylenburg: G.E.M is available on Prime Video and as an Audible Original.