I started robbing houses when I was seven. I don't regret it

Tara was just seven years old when she started robbing houses to get food. Her father suffered from mental health issues and her family lived in poverty. She says it was 'every person for themselves' — and doesn't regret stealing from wealthy homes in her neighbourhood.

Tara grew up in poverty and started stealing food when she was seven. Source: Supplied

Watch Insight's episode No Regrets — exploring how regret can be useful, and if a life of no regrets is possible — on SBS On Demand

Stream free On Demand

No Regrets?

episode • Insight • 

Current Affairs • 

53m

episode • Insight • 

Current Affairs • 

53m

I was a seasoned burglar by age seven, and I haven't felt an ounce of regret for this then or since.

In my world, it was eat or be eaten, violate or be violated.

I was there to eat, determined to come out on top in this high-stakes game of finders keepers.

Tara had an incredibly difficult childhood. Her drug dealer father moved her and her brother every year to evade police and they grew up in poverty. Source: Supplied

From a different world

I lived in a world beneath the one that most know and enjoy the comforts of.

My single father, navigating poverty, left our kitchen bare and putrid — a monument to his mental health struggles.

Getting ourselves up in the mornings, we walked to school without bags — we didn't have lunch or snacks.

We passed homes with manicured lawns and deserted driveways that we saw as inviting palaces of luxury.

We would knock, making sure no one was home. If someone was home, we'd say we were looking for a missing cat. If they weren't, I looked until I found an entry point.

With practised ease, I'd slip through toilet windows and make my way to back doors, letting in my brother or older kids — other misfits and outcasts.

I'd head straight for the kitchen, pulling out all the snacks and food onto a pile in the middle of the floor, hunger driving every move.

We wouldn't have eaten much for days — one meal a day was standard, if that.

We felt no entitlement, we just knew the way of the world; every person for themselves.

Exclusion became a familiar rhythm

The realms of childhood for me were a series of closed doors and violations.

Exclusion became a familiar rhythm, as predictable as the school bell.

Labelled as a bad influence, I was kept at arm's length, pushing me further into the 'wrong crowd' and away from positive influences.

Ever hungry and bored, we would door knock looking for odd jobs, but our dishevelled appearance and lack of social graces meant we were viewed with derision and suspicion as doors closed — we made a note to hit that house later.

This constant exclusion bred a deep resentment.

It wasn't just about missing out on normal childhood experiences or money from odd jobs; it was about being robbed of a sense of belonging, acceptance and dignity.

We grew up in a world where stories of police brutality and systemic injustice were as common as bedtime tales, shaping our understanding of society from an early age.

In this reality, so different from yours, laws and social contracts held no meaning, leaving us with no reason to respect a system that showed us only hypocrisy and judgement.

Tara says she doesn't feel regret for her actions but she does take responsibility. Source: Supplied

Lack of regret does not equal lack of responsibility

So, we would pick at the leftover meals on trays at fast food joints, eating the scraps to satisfy our hunger before we were told to leave.

Viewed with disgust, or as pests repeatedly, filled with relentless hunger, in a world without consistent structure or ethics there was nothing standing in the way.

So, we would take what we could, having so much taken from us it was survival of the fittest in a dog-eat-dog world.

I get asked if my lack of regret means I'm not taking responsibility, using my situation as a shield.

But I take full responsibility.

I was the only one who took responsibility for myself as a child navigating a harsh world.

How can one truly regret doing what felt necessary or justified? Our worlds were split so far apart it was impossible to feel any sense of empathy.

I understand the pain and sense of violation my actions must have caused. Each robbery, each crime, was both a result of my exclusion and a reason for its continuation — a vicious cycle that I couldn't see a way out of.

While I don't regret robbing your houses, I do regret that our society allows children to reach such desperate straits in the first place.

Today, I wonder how we can build a community where every child feels enough of a stake in society that the thought of robbing a house would give them pause.

To read more of Tara’s writing, follow her on X at @_TaraSchultz

And for more stories head to Insightful – a new podcast series from SBS, hosted by Kumi Taguchi. From sex and relationships to health, wealth, and grief Insightful offers deeper dives into the lives and first-person stories of former guests from the acclaimed TV show, Insight.

Follow Insightful on the SBS Audio App, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.