The crowd, waiting for supper and tea, has begun forming long before the food is served.
Outside the Lighthouse Church Community Kitchen in Wollongong, the long queue is quite.
Some chat softly with volunteers. Others sit alone, staring at the ground or scrolling through their phones.
For many, this is more than a place to eat. It is one of the few places where they can find certainty.
Among them is Amelia.
A young woman with bright coloured hair, dressed in a white shirt and stained jeans, with a baggy green jacket to fight the chilly Thursday evening.
Some nights she sleeps at her friend’s house.
Other nights in her car.
For Amelia, housing insecurity is not a statistic or policy issue. It is a daily reality.
“I think when people hear homeless, they imagine somebody sleeping rough on the street. That’s not what it looks like for a lot of young people,” she said.
“I’ve been homeless ever since year 10, when my parents split up and I ran away.
“It’s been more than five years since I became homeless, and I’ve been coming here every week for a couple of years to get a little refresher and have some warm coffee.
“At first, I felt anxious and worried about my co-workers and classmates seeing me here. I guess I was still embarrassed at the fact that I don’t have what they have.”
Stories like Amelia’s are becoming increasingly common across Australia as rising rents, limited housing supply and cost-of-living pressures push more people towards homelessness.
But homelessness rarely begins on the street.
For many, it starts with missed rent payments, unstable accommodation, couch surfing or living one unexpected expense away from losing a place to stay.
Youth homelessness organisations warn that housing insecurity is becoming increasingly difficult to escape.
According to Youth Off The Streets, 619 young people experiencing or at risk of homelessness were supported through specialist homelessness services in 2025. The organisation recorded 1,848 instances of homelessness or housing assistance, an increase from the previous year.
The numbers tell one story.
The people waiting outside the community kitchen tell another.
Amelia says finding housing is only part of the problem.
“I stopped getting my hopes up after a while. You’d spend hours applying and never hear anything back,” she said.
Across New South Wales, vacancy rates remain low while rents continue to outpace wage growth. For people relying on casual employment, income support or unstable work, securing a lease can feel impossible.
The result is a growing group of Australians who may not appear homeless but lack housing security.
Some move between family members and friends.
Others stay in temporary accommodation.
Many spend months navigating waiting lists while searching for somewhere permanent to live.
At the community kitchen, Jett describes a similar struggle.
Sitting alone outside the kitchen, the 22-year-old quietly sips his coffee in the evening chill.
In a soft-spoken voice, Jett shares some of his stories.
“My family is also not very well-off. I came to Wollongong as soon as I graduated high school for better work opportunities,” he said.
“As a guy with a poor family, who’s also from a pretty [rural] place, it’s really hard to find a home while also trying to send my family some money so they can have some support.”
The consequences extend beyond housing itself.
Research consistently shows that unstable housing affects mental health, physical wellbeing, employment opportunities and education outcomes.
Youth Off The Streets reports that family violence, poverty, mental health concerns and housing instability frequently overlap.
Ninety per cent of young people accessing crisis accommodation identified domestic, family or sexual violence as a contributing factor, while more than half had experienced couch surfing or emergency accommodation before seeking support.
For Jett, the effects are difficult to separate.
“It’s really difficult for me to choose. It’s not like there’s no place for me to work back home. But I really don’t want to give away the opportunities I have right now,” he said.
“I’m on an apprenticeship right now, and I do get paid. But right now, it’s not enough for me to support my parents back home let alone myself.
“I’m really eager to finish my apprenticeship and get to work as a full-fledged [carpenter]. I’m pretty passionate about woodworking, and I really need the money.”
According to ‘Home Times’ Campaign organiser Shorna Moore these experiences reflect broader structural problems rather than individual failures.
“[Young people represent] almost14 per cent of the entire homeless population,
“Yet, they’re being allocated about two per cent, or less than two per cent of social housing properties,” she told 9 News.
The challenge has become particularly visible in regional centres such as Wollongong, where population growth and housing demand have increased pressure on an already limited rental market.
While governments have announced new housing initiatives and social housing investments, service providers argue that demand continues to outpace supply.
For those already struggling, solutions cannot come quickly enough.
As the crowd begins to disperse into the night, Amelia prepares to leave.
The uncertainty remains.
The next rental application.
The next inspection.
The next week.
The next month.
When asked what stable housing would mean, Amelia pauses.
“I just want a room with a bed that I know I can come back to at the end of the day.”
It is a simple answer.
Not a house.
Not an investment.
Not a property portfolio.
Just a place to stay, without wondering how long it will last.
