*A Note to My Readers
As I share this blog series, ‘Reflections and Revelations,’ reflecting on the pivotal moments that have shaped my life, I want to acknowledge that these posts include sensitive themes such as bullying, self-harm, depression, anxiety, promiscuity, and substance use. These topics are deeply personal, and while I share them with honesty, I encourage you to proceed with care. If at any point you feel triggered or overwhelmed, please prioritize your well-being and step away.
I also want to clarify that while my stories may at times sound like I am blaming or accusing others, this is not my intent. With time, reflection, and growth, I’ve come to understand that everyone was navigating their own challenges and doing the best they could with what they knew at the time. I do not hold resentment toward anyone mentioned; in fact, many of these relationships have been healed through understanding and time. For this reason, I have changed or omitted some of the names in these stories. This series is about exploring how these moments shaped me, not about pointing fingers, and I hope it inspires others to reflect on their own journeys with compassion and courage.

Time to Grow Up: A Love Story, Family, and Finding Myself
I told Tim from the very beginning—I might never want to get married, and kids weren’t on my radar. He said he didn’t care. That he wasn’t going anywhere. That should’ve terrified me, but instead, I appreciated that he loved me and accepted me as I was in that moment.

For my 23rd birthday, April 2008, Tim booked us a romantic weekend away in Cape Hillsborough, North Queensland. We drove up, excited for the getaway, singing along to our favourite songs. Tired from the drive, we decided on a quiet night in our room. We cooked dinner and ate, and I noticed Tim was acting different. I tried to shrug off the feeling that something wasn’t right. He asked if I wanted to go for a walk along the beach and I said I was exhausted and really just wanted to have a good night sleep so we could go on some walks the following day. He offered to bring out dessert and when he did, he dropped to one knee. My heart stilled and a tingling sensation shot through my body. He held out a ring and asked me to marry him. Without a second thought, I said yes!

Later, as we walked around the nearby picnic area, trying to find reception to call our families, he told me he’d even asked my mum for her blessing— she’d warned him I might say no. Something inside me knew it was right. Where before the thought of marriage had brought dread and doubt and fear, Tims proposal brought excitement and happiness… Then came the wedding planning.

The stress. The money. The endless details. I felt suffocated. I told him we could wait, and that being engaged was commitment enough for me, but Tim—being Tim—found a way to make it work. He came home one day with a travel brochure for Hamilton Island wedding packages. It was perfect. Simple, beautiful, affordable, and exactly what we needed. On Valentine’s Day 2009, we were married in a little chapel on a hill overlooking the ocean on Hamilton Island, surrounded by thirty of our closest family and friends. Instead of a big reception, we went out for dinner, did our speeches, and had our first dance on a dock under the stars. The next day, we left for our honeymoon on Daydream Island, where we went parasailing, snorkeling, and even took a helicopter ride. It was a dream. I didn’t want it to end.

But reality was waiting.

A few months later, something inside me shifted. The woman who never wanted kids suddenly wanted a baby more than anything. It shocked everyone, including me. Tim and I were excited at the thought of being parents. It was in September 2009, when I saw the two pink lines telling me we were going to have a baby.

We bought our first home, sold Tim’s motorbike and my car for the deposit, and started creating our life together. I was constantly sick, lost weight, and spent most of my days curled up on the couch, but I was happy. I was growing a tiny human, and for the first time, I realised I had to let go of all the anger I’d carried for so long. I needed to let go of the hurt I’d been carrying and the unhealthy coping mechanisms I’d been using. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t?

That’s when I found the book, A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. His words cracked something open inside me. I started learning about living in the moment, letting go of the past, and quieting my ego. It was my first step into the world of self-discovery, and for the first time, something made sense and I felt confident I could really heal from past hurts and be the best version of myself for my child.

On May 4, 2010, my son was born via emergency C-section. He was breech, and nothing had gone according to plan, but he was here. Healthy. Perfect. Tim and I were smitten. I knew then that we wanted more.

When my son turned one, we started trying for baby number two. This time, it happened quicker than we’d anticipated. We took a road trip to Cooktown and back before settling into a new home, one with more space for our growing family. My second pregnancy was just as bad as the first, I was plagued with nausea and vomiting, and lost lots of weight. But, after thirty-two hours of labor, I had another emergency C-section. On February 23, 2012, my daughter was born.

She was beautiful. And colicky. She cried constantly. She threw up everything. I remember nights rocking her, exhausted, crying to Tim because I didn’t know how to help her. When she was almost one, I had to be hospitalized for surgery, and that week apart created years of separation anxiety between us. Tim and I loved the little family we’d created, but we knew two kids were enough.

Through it all, I struggled. Anxiety attacks would send me to the floor, curled up in the bathroom or kitchen when the kids were asleep. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t self-harm anymore, but I had no idea how to process my emotions. Tim was lost on how to help. The only thing that made me happy was my kids. But I was drowning, and our marriage was struggling under the weight of it all.

Something had to change.

A good friend gave me a notebook, with a sticky note inside that said, for your future novel. It reminded me of how much I’d loved books as a child, how I’d always said I wanted to write. That little spark became a wildfire. I wrote my first novel, Dawn of the Dreamer, and then I kept writing. During the kids nap times, in the quiet moments, I escaped into worlds of my own creation. Writing helped me escape my mind. I’ve now written and published over fifteen books, and every single one was part of my healing.

When my son started school, I found more ways to express myself and take care of my mental health. I joined a boot camp with some of my mum friends that I’d met through my son starting school. I also signed up for a hip-hop and jazz dance class. These things didn’t fix me, but they helped. Movement, creativity, connection—I started feeling more like myself again. And Tim and I? We went back to the basics. The friendship. The laughter. The love that had started it all.

Then, I tried Reiki healing for the first time. I had no idea how much it would change everything.

Ask for Help
If you or someone you know is struggling, please seek support. Here are some Australian helplines that can help:

• Lifeline: 13 11 14 (24/7 crisis support and suicide prevention)
• Beyond Blue: 1300 22 4636 (Support for depression and anxiety)
• Kids Helpline: 1800 55 1800 (For young people aged 5–25)
• 1800RESPECT: 1800 737 732 (Support for domestic and family violence)
• Alcohol and Drug Foundation: 1300 858 584

You are not alone, and help is available.