I live in a RAINBOW HOUSE

Tasha's home is made to brighten up anyone's day

- Tasha McBrinn

Cuddling up to my son Anthony, then two, on our grey sofa, I looked around the drab lounge room and sighed.

At 17, I was a single mum and I'd just moved out of my parents'  place into my own home with my little boy.

Life was tough, but I was a naturally sunny and bubbly person. I would've loved to brighten the place up a bit with some colourful furniture or wallpaper, but there was a problem.

Anthony had begun to show signs of autism. He was alarmed by loud noises and overwhelmed by bright colours or bold patterns. He'd ripped up a brightly coloured painting he'd been asked to do at daycare.

I knew he needed comfort, routine and calming familiarity - hence the dull, grey walls and floors.

Even though it was a given I'd do anything to help my son and keep him calm, it was such a shame about the house.

Ever since I was a little girl, I'd loved expressing myself through bright colours, bold patterns and unusual outfits.

My mum, Shirley, had helped me decorate my childhood bedroom in bright pink, and I had huge jigsaw puzzle pieces painted on the walls.

As a teen, I'd had long bohemian skirts and cropped tops in every colour of the rainbow.

Even when I went through a bit of a gothic fashion phase, I dressed in jeans with brightly coloured band T-shirts and stripey knee socks.

I loved dyeing my hair too - pink, red, orange, you name it. I excelled in art at school, losing myself in drawing, painting and crafts.

It was how I expressed myself, and being creative made me happy.

So living in a colourless d home was really getting me down.

'This so isn't you!' my mate said, eyeing the grey couch and stone floor when she came over for a cuppa and a chat.