Ricky Stuart Opens Up About Fatherhood, Autism and the Heart Behind His Coaching

When Ricky Stuart’s story appeared in the Canberra Times this week, it struck a chord with so many families. Seeing his words in the media was powerful, but sitting with Ricky on Wine with Wita revealed even more depth behind the headlines.

The public got a glimpse of his experience, but our conversation gently opened the door to the heart, the struggle and the love that have shaped his journey as a father.

Ricky is known as one of rugby league’s most respected coaches, but behind the scenes he is a dad who has walked through years of uncertainty, adjustment and learning with his daughter Emma, who is autistic and nonverbal. Hearing him speak about her, with honesty, humour and vulnerability made it clear why the news story resonated so deeply. This is not just a sports figure talking about leadership. This is a father sharing the story that changed him.

Emma’s diagnosis did not come until she was around eleven. Before that, Ricky and his wife Kaylie were simply told she had a “development delay”, leaving them confused and unsure of what her future would look like. It was only when they finally received the formal diagnosis that things shifted. He described it as a weight lifting, not because anything about Emma changed, but because they finally had direction. They could search for the right support, the right education, the right understanding. They could finally speak the language of their daughter’s needs.

Today, Emma is 28. She is expressive in her own way, cheeky, determined and deeply connected to her family. Her laugh - loud, deep and contagious is one of Ricky’s favourite things about her. Watching her bond with her brothers, and seeing how they have grown into compassionate, protective young men, has been one of his life’s greatest joys.

But Ricky was equally honest about the challenges. The years in Sydney without family support were some of the hardest. Emma required most of their attention, meaning the boys naturally took a back seat more often than anyone would like to admit. He acknowledged the guilt, the exhaustion and the reality so many families live with behind closed doors. Too often, parents feel they should cope alone.

His message was simple: do not do it alone.

Ask for help. Accept support. Let people understand your child so they can support your family too.

It was this lived experience that led to the creation of the Ricky Stuart Foundation. After encountering respite centres that felt outdated or unsettling for Emma, Ricky wanted something better, not just for his daughter, but for other families too. He built two respite homes in Canberra, designed with comfort, dignity and belonging in mind, and handed them back to the government so they could benefit the community long term.

The foundation has continued to grow, expanding into education initiatives, anti-bullying programs and now a new independent-living home in New South Wales for adults with disability. This project was inspired entirely by Emma’s own transition into supported living, something the family once believed would never be possible.

Listening to Ricky speak, it is clear that these projects are not charity for charity’s sake. They are built from lived experience, love and a fierce drive to make the path easier for families walking similar journeys.

Throughout our conversation, Ricky challenged one of the biggest misconceptions about autism: that autistic children do not understand or connect in the same way others do.
“They all have a mind. They all have feelings,” he said. “They just think differently.”

It is a truth every parent, educator and professional should hold close.

Seeing the Canberra Times amplify his message felt significant. But hearing him unpack the years behind that story, the uncertainty, the hard days, the joy, the resilience, gave families the full picture. It showed the father behind the coach, the human behind the public figure, and the lived experience behind the advocacy.

Ricky’s story matters because it makes families feel seen. It opens conversations about support, sibling relationships, respite, education, community responsibility and the emotional reality of raising a child with complex needs. It reminds every parent on this journey that they are not alone.