TZARA ATTWATER
Nominee for what Award/s
Trusted Mentor and Coach Award
Confidence Reclaimed Award
Trusted Mentor and Coach Award
Trusted Mentor and Coach Award
1. Why did you first step into mentorship or coaching?
I didn’t become a coach because I had all the answers.
I became a coach because I had lived the questions.
After a devastating betrayal — discovering my partner of ten years in bed with my best friend — I spiralled into anxiety, self-blame, and emotional collapse. But what shook me most wasn’t the betrayal itself… it was how quickly I turned on myself.
That experience cracked me open. It forced me to meet the parts of myself I’d spent a lifetime avoiding — and slowly, rebuild a sense of trust, not in others, but in me.
Along that journey, I realised something: I wasn’t alone.
So many women were walking through life doubting their worth, second-guessing their voice, and trying to hold everything together while quietly falling apart inside.
That’s why I stepped into mentorship and coaching — not to fix people, but to walk beside them as they remember their own strength.
2. What philosophy or values guide how you mentor others?
My core philosophy is this:
"You are not broken. You’ve just been taught to abandon yourself.”
I work with the belief that every person has an inner compass — and that with the right conditions, that compass can be reclaimed.
I hold space that is trauma-aware, emotionally honest, and deeply respectful of each person’s journey. I don’t believe in top-down teaching or cookie-cutter formulas. I believe in meeting people where they are — and holding up a mirror to the version of themselves they’ve forgotten they can become.
My values are rooted in:
Radical self-responsibility — without shame.
Compassionate truth-telling — even when it’s uncomfortable.
Bravery over perfection — every time.
3. Tell us about a mentee/client transformation you're proud of.
One of the most humbling transformations I’ve ever witnessed was with a woman who had experienced the unthinkable.
She came to me after enduring sexual abuse by her father, years of domestic violence, the suicide of her son, and a terminal illness diagnosis. When we first met, she told me:
“I just want to feel joy before I die.”
We began the deep work of unravelling decades of trauma. Gently, consistently, we peeled back the shame, the grief, the stories she’d been forced to carry.
And then something incredible happened.
She decided to train as a marriage celebrant.
Not because she was in love — but because she wanted to stand for love.
To witness it. To celebrate it. To reclaim it.
That’s the power of mentorship.
It’s not about pushing someone toward a goal — it’s about walking them home to who they’ve always been.
4. How do you continue to grow so you can serve better?
I walk my talk. Always.
Whether it’s my solo motorhome journey around Australia, facing the pain of injury and isolation, or consistently investing in my own supervision, training, and reflective practice — I live what I teach.
I work with coaches and mentors of my own. I continually study areas like adult development, emotional intelligence, and trauma-informed practice. I test new tools on myself before ever introducing them to a client.
But most importantly?
I stay human.
I stay honest.
And I never ask a client to go somewhere I haven’t been willing to go myself.
That’s what keeps me grounded — and growing.
5. What advice do you have for women stepping into leadership roles?
Drop the performance. Step into presence.
Leadership isn’t about having all the answers.
It’s about knowing who you are when things fall apart — and showing others what’s possible when you lead with courage, not control.
If you’re a woman stepping into leadership, here’s what I want you to know:
You don’t have to mimic what’s been modelled.
You don’t have to harden to be taken seriously.
You don’t have to abandon your intuition to be “strategic.”
The most powerful leaders I know are the ones who can hold truth, complexity, and humanity — without losing themselves in the process.
Lead like that.
Thank you for the opportunity to submit this nomination.
Confidence Reclaimed Award
Confidence Reclaimed Award
1. Describe a moment when you had to rebuild your confidence from rock bottom.
The moment I hit rock bottom wasn’t loud — it was silent.
It was the sound of the front door clicking behind me as I stood frozen in the hallway, staring at my partner of ten years… in bed with my best friend.
My brain couldn’t process what I was seeing, but my body knew.
Everything dropped — not just the relationship, but my sense of self.
But it wasn’t the betrayal that destroyed me.
It was what came next: the shame.
The way I picked apart every memory, every moment, trying to find where I’d gone wrong.
“How did you not see this?”
“You must be stupid.”
“You’re not enough.”
That voice didn’t just whisper — it screamed.
And I listened to it. I let it tell me who I was.
Until one day, I realised the voice wasn’t mine.
That’s when the rebuild began.
2. What internal beliefs did you have to change to reclaim your self-worth?
The biggest belief I had to confront was this:
“If I had done better, he wouldn’t have betrayed me.”
I had to dismantle the lie that I was the reason people left, lied, or let me down.
I realised that I had internalised the idea that love was something I had to earn — through over-functioning, over-giving, and never taking up too much space.
To reclaim my confidence, I had to stop performing.
I had to stop outsourcing my worth to someone else’s approval — or silence.
Now I believe this:
“I am not too much. I am not too late. I am not broken.”
“I am worthy, simply because I exist.”
3. Who or what supported you during your comeback?
Honestly? Nature. Solitude. And a rusty old motorhome.
I packed up my life and started driving around Australia. Alone.
There were no external cheerleaders. Just my breath, the road, and the brutal honesty that comes when there’s no one left to perform for.
I was supported by the women I met on the road — strangers who shared their own scars without pretense.
I was supported by my own commitment to not abandon myself, even when I was scared.
And eventually, I sought out mentors, coaches, and a community where I could be fully seen — without shame.
That’s what saved me.
Not being told I was strong — but remembering I already was.
4. How do you now walk in your truth and inspire others?
I walk in my truth by telling the whole story — not just the polished parts.
I tell the truth about betrayal. About shame. About rebuilding.
I speak on stages, podcasts, and in workshops about the messy, sacred process of learning to trust yourself again.
I coach women who are highly competent but quietly crumbling. Women who can lead teams but can’t leave toxic relationships. Women who say “I’m fine” while holding back tears.
I inspire by being real, not perfect.
And when a client says, “I feel like you’re speaking straight to my soul,”
I know I’m walking in my truth.
5. What advice would you give to a woman currently doubting herself?
I would say this:
Your doubt is not the truth. It’s a defence mechanism.
It’s a voice that was planted in you by pain — not by possibility.
You don’t need to become a new woman.
You need to remember the one you were before the world told you she wasn’t enough.
And you don’t have to do it all at once.
Start small.
Speak up.
Say no.
Say yes.
Rest.
Laugh.
Grieve.
Write the truth down, even if no one else sees it.
Reclaiming confidence isn’t about becoming fearless.
It’s about not abandoning yourself — even when you’re afraid.
Because you are not behind.
You are not broken.
And you are not done yet.
Thank you for the opportunity to submit this nomination.