My world fell apart the day my only son ended his life at 14. In the depths of my grief, I logged into TikTok and made an awful discovery

Plating up my 14-year-old son Ollie's favourite spaghetti bolognese, I already knew I was wasting my time. 'I'm not that hungry, mum,' he said, opening a can of tuna instead, only to pick at it. Throughout his 'meal', he was glued to his phone, scrolling endlessly through TikTok and Instagram. When he was done, he slunk off to his bedroom in silence. I just couldn't understand what had happened to my little boy.

From the moment Ollie was born, we had a special bond. A single mum from when he was just 18 months old, it was always the two of us. We were inseparable. We went on holidays and cruises together and had 'Rule-Free Fridays', where I'd let Ollie eat dessert for dinner, and we'd cuddle up to watch a movie of his choice. Ollie was cheeky, bright and wise beyond his years. Friends used to say watching us was like watching The Ollie and Mia Show. I loved hearing that.

But everything changed when he started high school. When Ollie started following fitness accounts on TikTok, his mum Mia thought it was harmless. Like many young teens, Ollie experienced bullying. Two classmates even told him to 'kill himself' on Snapchat. I arranged for him to see a psychologist, but it didn't seem to help. The cruel taunts shattered his self-esteem and he became withdrawn, refusing to go to school.

In his second year of high school, he missed 125 days. During that time, he became obsessed with social media - particularly fitness content on TikTok. At first, I thought it was harmless. Healthy, even. Maybe he'd take up exercise to improve his well-being. But soon, I realised how toxic it was. Ollie became fixated on calories, and 'micro and macronutrients'. He wanted to spend his allowance on protein powders and join a gym.

Gone were the days of him tucking into his favourite meals - pasta, tacos, and beef and Guinness stew. Now, he refused to eat anything I made, existing on small cans of tuna and tiny portions of rice. He tried to hide his weight loss under baggy clothing, but I could see it. My precious boy was wasting away and no matter what I said, I couldn't get through to him. Ollie was a happy and healthy boy who loved spaghetti bolognese and tacos, before TikTok fitness accounts made him obsess over calories and 'macronutrients'.

Ollie became miserable, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 'I'm worried about you, love,' I told him. To my relief, he agreed to see a doctor - but he still refused to eat. Then I learned he wasn't just restricting food. He was purging, too. I felt everything spiraling out of control. I didn't know what to do. Between February and December 2023, his weight dropped so drastically that he had to be admitted to the hospital.

That's when he was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa. There was no doubt in my mind that while the absence of a parent and difficult family dynamics triggered the eating disorder, social media fuelled it. In the hospital, Ollie was confined to his bed, served six supervised meals a day. If he refused, they fed him through a tube. I think I only saw him eat one meal voluntarily during his entire stay. Ollie was bullied at school with two classmates telling him to 'kill himself' on Snapchat. Not longer after that, he became obsessed with following fitness accounts on TikTok.

I was in complete distress. The nurses told me, 'You're not dealing with your son, you're dealing with a disease.'. But when he refused to speak to me, when he threw things at me in anger, it was hard to remember that. Toward the end of 2023, things started looking up. Desperate to go home, Ollie ate a little more and, by January 2024, he was allowed to be discharged for a week. I was still trying to hold down my job in business development for a small building company, so I FaceTimed him at meal times to make sure he was eating.

One lunchtime, he even asked me what was for dinner. 'Steak sangas,' I beamed. That night, we ate together. The next morning, we had breakfast, and I headed to work. At lunchtime, I FaceTimed him to check he was eating - but he didn't answer. I tried again after grabbing lunch with a colleague. Still nothing. And this time, my blood ran cold. I had this horrible feeling. I drove home. Our two dogs were waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

I ran upstairs. And there, in his bedroom, Ollie had taken his own life. The rest is a blur. There is no doubt in my mind that social media is to blame for Ollie's death. Before TikTok's toxic 'What I eat in a day' algorithm, he was a happy, healthy boy. I advocated hard, alongside other grieving parents, for the social media legislation introduced by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese. This legislation should have been in place years ago. When social media was first unleashed on the world, it became the greatest social experiment on humankind, let alone our kids.