Oliver's Story

What are your childhood memories? the sound of laughter in the playground, the feeling of a scrapped knee being treated tenderly, the warm glow of a bedtime story as you are tucked tightly in your bed?

But for little Oliver, a little of that lightness had begun to fade.

Teachers at school had noticed that Oliver seemed more tired than usual, “less chatty”, and his once-sparkling smile was harder to find. When they gently reached out to Dad he told them he was trying his best, raising Oliver on his own since Oliver's mother had left, but life had become heavier. Dad had his own history of mental health struggles and substance abuse but over the last couple of years had seemed to turn a corner with his recovery and the school were hopeful that Dad would . Dad came into school for a meeting about what was going on and Dad agreed to make sure Oliver got regular, healthy meals and enough rest at night.

Still, things didn't improve.

Oliver became withdrawn. He found it hard to focus and often got into arguments with his friends and classmates. Some children also began to comment on how Oliver didn't seem to be as clean as before. A former bright, happy and friendly boy was becoming more and more isolated, unhappy and angry. His once-curious imagination had dulled. And when trusted adults checked in, Oliver closed off. He didn’t have the words or tools to explain how he was feeling.

The school made phone calls home, but Dad became defensive and erratic and stopped answer the phone. At the end of each school day, Dad stood at the back of the playground and seemed anxious and on edge, not engaging with other parents. The school reached out for help, not to pass Oliver on, but to bring others in.

This is the reality for thousands of children in the UK. Their struggles start small and their pain silent. They find it hard to express what's going on in their life and keep their suffering inside where no one can help. Scared of the repercussions if they speak out, scared of the reaction from their loved ones, scared of losing someone they love, scared that no one will listen.

This is where we, at Love Squared, came in. And where you can come in, too.

Through a referral, Oliver was gently introduced to one of our mentors—a safe, calm, and consistent presence. Someone who didn’t ask him to talk before he was ready. Someone who showed up, week after week, to walk, draw, play, and listen. Bit by bit, trust grew, and Oliver felt more able to understand what his feelings were.

Because trauma doesn't disappear overnight, and healing doesn’t happen alone.

As Oliver explored his thoughts through art and play, his dad also found someone to talk to, someone who saw his strength in showing up, and his bravery in admitting he was struggling. He spoke of his own mental health, of how overwhelmed he felt, how hard it was to hold everything together and how he had started to return to old habits to cope.

Together, we created a plan that felt achievable, not overwhelming, a plan that Oliver’s dad felt empowered to accomplish. He returned to his GP, restructured home routines, and, most of all, felt less alone.

With time, laughter began to return to Oliver’s world. His drawings were full of colour again. He began to thrive more at school. His dad started to feel hope and trusted in the professionals around him that they were offering support not judgement.

This is what love looks like. This is what nurture feels like. This is the power of being brave enough to ask for help, and the magic of someone being there when you do.

But for every Oliver we reach, there are others still waiting.

Children whose voices are still quiet.

Parents who feel they must carry it all.

Families needing someone to say: "You're not broken. You are not alone."

Your donation can be part of that lifeline:

🧡 £10 can provide paints, clay and art supplies that give a voice to children like Oliver

🧡 £15 can keep our phone lines open giving people a space to talk openly and without judgement

🧡 £25 can help fund our in-person holiday groups—places full of colour, community, and connection

Love Squared exists because we believe in the everyday courage of families.

Because we believe every child should grow up in a world where imagination is nurtured, where support feels safe, and where love is never conditional.

As one parent recently told us:

Please help us continue to be there—for every Oliver still waiting.

Please note, names and identifying features have been changed to protect the privacy of the families we support.