Blog 4: The end of an Era
Some of the older clients came to see me during that chaotic time. They suggested I get the first flight back to the Gold Coast and find a lawyer—urgently.
“You need to tell Claire you’re going back to work. And you need to get a lawyer. This isn’t good, but we’re here to support you. We’ve got your back.”
I’m so grateful I managed to hold onto my professionalism and that I built a genuine relationship with those patients—despite having no formal training in either the field or in business. I booked the first flight home, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. I remember telling my mum and dad—I felt like I had failed. I knew I should have trusted my intuition that day when I saw her car. I knew something wasn’t right, but I’d been so desperate for the business to succeed that I ignored my gut.
I immediately organised a meeting with a lawyer. I arrived in Brisbane, went straight to her office, and the lawyer went over the contract—telling me it was locked down, airtight. That the contract was impossible to get out of.
In the days that followed, Claire continued her antics—her disappearing acts, skipping dinners, neglecting the clients. She stayed alone in her hotel with a Thai man who visited her every few days. One client even saw her buying prescription drugs from a shady pharmacy in town.
The stress and anxiety nearly broke me. Claire was due to return to Australia in just two days. I was still working at Embody Beauty, Dale unaware I’d bought a franchise and gone to Thailand for work. I’d told him I was taking a holiday with friends.
The lawyer had made it clear there was no way out of this five-year contract. I’d have to pay her what I owed. The thought of working with that woman for five more years made me feel physically sick. I knew I had to do something.
I stayed in daily contact with the clients still in Thailand. One of them suggested writing statements about her unusual behavior and lack of due diligence. The lawyer told us that if we could prove Claire had breached the contract, I might be able to get out. One by one, the clients sent in their statements—I ended up with 12 A4 page statements by the end of the week.
One detailed a very specific account of her behaviour—from the way she dressed to her strange antics. Another described her lack of professionalism and neglect for her duties. Their statements all painted a clear picture: Claire had breached her side of the agreement, which was supposed to be a training trip for me.
I am still so thankful for those clients—without their support, I’d have never been able to escape that nightmare. Some of them even encouraged me to start my own business, to create my own version of “Cosmetic Holidays.” But after all this, I experienced what I can only describe as post-traumatic stress.
For months, the legal back-and-forth dragged on. Claire wanted the money I owed her, even threatening to go after my parents’ house—they’d been the guarantors. I genuinely believe she was sleeping with her lawyer because some of her requests were so outrageous, and he would go along with whatever she demanded. One day, she wanted my parents’ house; the next, she insisted I keep working for her for the full five years.
Finally, she settled. She kept the deposit I paid her but agreed I wouldn’t have to pay the rest. In exchange, I had to sign a gag order—bound to never discuss her business or what had happened, or she’d sue me.
My lawyer told me that was as good as it was going to get. So, I signed the agreement and never saw her again. I buried it deep down—never really talked about it. It was trauma, extreme stress and a total sense of failure.
I was 26—my first attempt at running a business. What a failure.
After my final trip to Europe with Embody Beauty, failed relationships, and a deep sense of unsettlement, I knew it was time to leave the Gold Coast. I had to be close to my family—and I was traumatised by Claire. The thought of running into her again on the Gold Coast was unbearable.
I told Dale I wanted to move back home and leave the company. At the time, I was the National Representative and the only person in Australia who knew our skin needling equipment and method inside and out. Dale suggested I expand our reach into other locations—since we’d exhausted the Gold Coast, Brisbane, and Sunshine Coast—and maybe I could keep my job while working remotely from Melbourne. My focus would be on building a client base in Victoria.
He agreed, and so I packed up my orange Suzuki Swift with the famous black racing stripes. The best thing about working for them? They trusted me to do what I wanted within their company.
Within just two days, I said my goodbyes to friends, packed up my bedroom (I always had a rule: never own anything that doesn’t fit in my car). I was a gypsy—always on the move, ready to drop everything at a moment's notice. The Gold Coast had been my longest stint—9 years—by far, the place that felt like home. Every time I landed on Gold Coast soil, I felt a deep sense of belonging. That feeling stayed with me long after I left. It was bittersweet—sad to leave, but excited for the new adventure.
With a tiny car packed full of my possessions, including an IPL machine, a skin needling device, and a microdermabrasion machine, I set off to conquer the Victorian beauty scene. I was ready to build something new, to prove myself all over again.