Blog 1: Always Been A Dreamer

I’ve always been a dreamer. When I was young, I dreamed of being a Hollywood star—a famous actress living a fabulous life in Tinseltown. My first overseas trip at 17 was a game-changer—part of a school program in Year 11. We went to Hollywood, stayed with a family in Arizona, and explored San Francisco. I fell in love with America—the people, the culture, the hype, the fashion, the stars, and that wild, unstoppable dream! If only I knew about the law of attraction back then. I had a wild imagination, but growing up in a small town, I was told to finish school, stay within the lines, and don’t step too far from the norm.

I was a rebel—I got caught smoking on school camp in Year 7 and was suspended. I hated school. I wasn’t academic, and I wasn’t good at sport. I was fun, a dreamer, a rebel, and super creative. The school system, society, rules—they all never really fit with who I was. I hated being told what to do. That aspect of my personality stayed with me throughout school and beyond. I was a terrible employee—I needed to do things my way, bend the rules, and do what felt right. That entrepreneurial spirit… It’s in my blood.

Despite that, I managed to finish Year 12—though with no accolades or real sense of purpose. I dabbeled in graphic design, held a few jobs here and there, and wandered through life aimlessly. By my late teens, I'd moved back to Melbourne and was fully immersed in the party scene. I loved to party. Honestly, I thought I should get paid to party because I was so good at it. I was the life of the party, could out-drink the boys, tried every party drug under the sun, and could party for days on end. I never wanted a good night to end. It was the early 2000s—Paris Hilton, Nicole Ritchie, Kim Kardashian, Lindsay Lohan—they were famous for partying, and I looked at them and thought, that should be me! I should be paid for partying.

I’m one of four children. We were born in Melbourne but moved to Mulwala, NSW, when I was in Year 4—much to my disgust. I hated being there; I never really adapted. Everyone was so judgmental and I never really found my people. Mum went back to work when we were in high school, and Dad worked away a lot. Dad was an entrepreneur—I believe he had big dreams but never really told anyone. He tried multiple business ventures, supported our family, but none of them really took off. I honestly think the relentless pursuit of entrepreneurship eventually drained his spirit. My parents are loving and supportive, but their old-school mindset about working hard until retirement to pay off your mortgage was all they knew. They worked until their late 60s and early 70’s, dreaming of traveling, then COVID hit—and both of them were struck by chronic illness. Dad was diagnosed with kidney cancer, and Mum has rheumatoid arthritis.

As I write this, my dad has just been diagnosed with leukemia.

Growing up, I watched my parents struggle with money, stress about finances, and hustle to pay the mortgage while raising four kids on one income. I never wanted that life. I always knew I was destined for something more. Deep down, I believed I was destined for greatness. No one else saw what I saw, but I had this burning desire to succeed, a love for luxury, and a belief in myself that nothing could crush. Like I always say, “Believe in yourself because no one else will.”

In 2005, after years of clubbing and bouncing around from job to job, I enrolled in a diploma of Beauty Therapy at a private college in Albury. I wanted to do makeup artistry—because it fed my creative side—but my mum told me they wouldn’t pay for a course in makeup, saying there was no career in it. So, I became a beauty therapist. Still didn’t have a clear direction, but I knew I had a gift. Skin health and anti-aging quickly became my passion. Throughout those early years, I hardly held down a job. I hopped from salon to salon, state to state, trying to find my place.

Eventually, I ended up in Brisbane, working at Beauty on LaTrobe in Paddington, where I met my dear friend Melissa. We were the employees everyone avoided—booking fake clients, lounging around, ordering Thai takeaway, laughing until our stomachs hurt, and drinking coffee so strong we’d shake during facials. Like I said, I was a rebel and terrible employee. After 12 months there I ventured down south to the Gold Coast. This is where I stayed for next 9 years. By now, in my early- mid 20’s I started to become serious about growing my career. I had been making a name for myself in the beauty industry despite my lack of work ethic. Over the years I moved from beauty therapist to 2IC. Working for large franchises like Pure Indulgence, where the manager in the salon was so dominating that you couldn’t even breath the wrong way. This was not my place. In fact they were so notoriously horrible to work for that girls would get fired on a daily basis for as little as refusing to do their 6th full body massage for the day or missing a KPI for a month. I hated working at Pure Induldgence. At the time I was working with two of my best friends Jade and Jodie at the Robina Town Centre. We used to joke and call it Pooey Induldgence. (Immature I know). I remember thinking if I were ever a boss, I would never be like this. We went out most night in surfers Paradise and would get home at all hours of the night, showing up to work still intoxicated from the night before. I remember Jade getting sent home because she couldn’t perform a massage because shed fallen down drunk and it appeared she’d broken her wrist. Despite my wild party days that I was infamous for, I always maintained high hopes for myself that I would get to where I wanted to be. I eventually left pure indulgence and moved to a little salon in Burleigh Heads called RY- Recreate Yourself. I was the beauty therapist amongst the hair dresses and I must say I loved working here. The team and the owners were all amazing and boy did we have fun!! One thing I love about the beauty industry is the incredible friendships I’m made along the way.

After years of trying to progress, I finally got my first repping job and said goodbye to my treatment days for good. At the time, being a Rep for a skincare company was my dream job. I had made it!! The job was based out of the industrial area in Byron Bay for a small company called Embody Beauty. We distributed European Beauty Equipment. I have always been good at sitting interviews and self promotion, not in a egotistical way but I can sell myself. The owners of the company were Dale and Vivian, they were a lovely eccentric couple who had never had kids. Dale was a podiatrist and the main part of their business was based around importing podiatry equipment. I didn’t quite fit in to the the team of introverted, podiatrists. I’d show up to work dressed up in skirts, dresses and heels, as fashion has always been my passion. During the interview I told them that I was highly skilled at computers, being a beauty therapist for many years meant that I’d barely touched a computer besides being proficient at Shortcuts Salon software. On my first day I showed up eager to get on the road and get out there and sell, sell, sell. Instead, Dale asked me to create a spreadsheet using the details of salons I was to start cold calling. At the time I was dating a pommy guy called Rich, who was working in IT. A quick text message asking him ‘what the fuck is a speadsheet” and I was on my way to creating my first database. Rich was much younger than me and it didn’t last long at all. I’d met him as he arrived from London at a festival and we spent our weekends together, moved in together very quickly and briefly, until he eventually found his feet on the Gold Coast and was ready to move on and experience life as a backpacker.

I was living in Miami with my flatmate and friend Trista, I spent my days in the Byron Bay office googling salons between Byron Bay and the Sunshine Coast to collect phone numbers to cold call the salon owners and ask if I could arrange a time to show them our equipment. I had no script and no guidance. I eventually got on the road, driving day in day out dropping flyers into salons trying to book appointments to sell our European beauty devices. We imported an IPL machine, a crystal microdermabrasion machine (the old school type) and a skin needling device. I loved what I was doing but most of my days were spent dressing up in my best corporate fit driving up and down the coast. I eventually started making sales and expanding interstate. I would shoot over to Perth, Adelaide and Melbourne for days at a time. Staying in crappy motels on my own, training staff and then heading out at night time after meeting up with old friends and meeting new people.

The best part of the job was the international travel. Every year, I would fly to Europe for our distributor meetings in Amsterdam. I’d make the most of those free flights, exploring Europe beyond the showrooms rooms. I had friends in London that I would visit, and I’d often meet up with friends on Contiki trips before catching my boss in Amsterdam.

By then, I was seeing a guy from the Gold Coast named Trent. We’d met through mutual friends just before he planned to move to London. I’d been single for a while, but as soon as we met, we became inseparable. Like always I would fall hard. It is a personality trait, I go hard and fast at everything I do. He was handsome, fun, well-dressed, and loved to have a good time. Career-focused, too. I still believe he’s my soulmate—the one I was supposed to meet, just at the wrong time in our lives. We planned to travel together in Amsterdam before I headed off for work. We made the most of that time—smoking weed (which, honestly, never agreed with me), taking mushrooms and exploring the red-light district. Then we moved on to Berlin, but that’s where everything quickly fell apart. The distance between him living in London and me heading back to the Gold Coast started to cause tension and trust issues. It ended badly—so badly I doubt we’ll ever speak again. After the breakup, I joined my flatmate Trista on her Contiki tour around Berlin, then headed to London to stay with some friends from Leeton.

After that breakup, I felt like there was something wrong with me. All my relationships seemed to end in heartbreak or disappointment, and I knew deep down something had to change. I had to change.

In London, I partied hard—days on cocaine binges with friends, nights lost in alcohol and chaos. One day, I just felt the need to get out—so I jumped on a train and impulsively headed to Paris for five magical nights on my own. Paris was everything—romantic, mysterious, yet raw and real. I took the tube to the Arc de Triomphe, wandered to Notre Dame, ate baguettes in the park, and was stopped by strange, French men asking, “Beautiful Italian, where are you from?”.

While wandering through the streets, I met two Parisian guys—Jeremy and Jonathan—working in a vintage shop near the Moulin Rouge. As I passed by, I heard Chet Faker playing, my favorite Melbourne artist—1998, one of my favourite songs at the time, I stopped to talk, and they invited me out that night. I was hesitant at first, but something told me to go. So I found myself sashaying through underground bars of Paris with two handsome Frenchmen, both wearing berets, both charming, both mysterious.

The next morning, still a little dusty, I headed to the train station to meet Dale for our distributor meeting at Dancor HQ in Amsterdam. Dale’s like a father figure—always treating me more like a daughter than an employee or an adult. We’d share a small Airbnb as usual, and in the days that followed, I’d meet the team, be wined and dined, and soak in every moment of that experience.

In those days, I met Xander—a tall, bald, Dutch man, quite a few years older than me. He quickly took a liking to me, and over the years, we built a bond. We’d catch up in Australia at Beauty Expos, and in Amsterdam. I always had a boyfriend when I saw him, but he never gave up trying to woo me over. We still chat today.

I spent my days wandering around Amsterdam—exploring the grungy streetwear shops, soaking in the vibe. One day, I wandered into a tiny bookstore and found The Secret. I’d always believed a book has a soul—that it finds you at exactly the right time. I’d heard about The Secret—and I bought it on a whim. Sitting in Vondel Park, I began that lifelong journey of self-discovery.

It’s cliché, I know. But that book changed everything for me. I was just 25. And from that moment on, I began to believe in the power of my own mind and my visions for my life. That’s how I started to transform my world, slowely—one belief at a time.