07/04/2026
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Australia Day 2023 is a day I will never forget.
Unbeknownst to me, it was the beginning of the end of my life as I knew it.
Six months earlier, I had moved my business of 16 years to a new location—this time in a different town, but still close enough for my loyal clients to follow. Even though I knew I was burning out, I still had big plans and felt excited about the future.
Deep down, I knew the location wasn’t going to work long-term… but I also knew it was exactly where I needed to be at the time.
COVID had taken a huge toll on both my business and my mental health, like it did for so many people. But I did the only thing I knew how to do—I dug deep and kept going. I had already battled Lyme disease years earlier, so I was no stranger to fatigue or pushing through.
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Back to Australia Day.
That’s when I discovered a weeping, ulcerated sore on my left breast. I knew instantly what it was.
I had found a similar sore on my stomach on New Year’s Day—and I had already identified the culprit: a white-tail spider. I thought there had only been one… but I was very wrong.
I didn’t feel sick exactly—just off. The sore on my stomach was healing, but very slowly. By the time I was bitten the second time, my body simply couldn’t process it.
With everything I was already dealing with—mentally and physically—it was too much.
By the second week, the bite on my breast was extremely painful, and a large inflamed lump had formed. I was already on my second course of antibiotics. The stomach wound had healed, but my breast was getting worse.
I began experiencing symptoms of mastitis—something I had endured while breastfeeding both of my children. I felt toxic. Dizzy. Shaky. Constantly nauseous.
It took about six weeks for the ulcer to heal, but the lump remained—hard, painful, and now turning purple-black.
And I wasn’t getting better. I was getting worse.
The first doctor I saw dismissed it, telling me breast cancer wasn’t painful and not to worry—it would go away.
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By then, I had named her Betty—Betty Bad B**b.
My other one was Rita Right B**b. 😳😝
I needed to keep my spirits up somehow.
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But things kept declining. The pain spread into my armpit and became a constant, throbbing presence. I was barely getting through each day.
Eventually, I had to make a devastating decision—to close my business, with the hope of reopening it from home once I got better.
I sought a second opinion.
My new doctor was horrified by my previous experience. She didn’t like the look of Betty at all and immediately sent me for scans and tests.
The results weren’t good. My white blood cell count was abnormally high, and the lump showed concerning signs of mass.
As she spoke the words no woman—no mother—ever wants to hear, she cried. My mum cried.
But I didn’t.
Deep down, I believed the tests were wrong. I believed I was going to be okay. To me, it still felt like mastitis—even though my babies were now teenagers.
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From there, I was referred to a specialist… who was more interested in chatting about an upcoming party than examining me. She was dismissive, rude, and made me feel like I was wasting her time.
Meanwhile, I was getting worse.
Another referral. Another specialist. This one was better—at least she saw me as a person.
But by 2024, I was still sick. Still searching for answers.
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I would spend weeks at a time in bed, unable to move.
My body was swollen. Every inch of me ached. The fatigue was so intense I couldn’t even brush my hair, let alone get dressed. My long, beautiful hair became so matted it had to be cut off.
Even brushing my teeth—something I had spent thousands on—felt impossible.
I was lost. Completely lost.
I felt like I had lost everything—my health, my career, my identity. I was bankrupt and on the verge of losing our home.
For the first time in my life, I was unemployed. I felt like a failure. Like I had nothing left to live for.
And that scared me more than anything.
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But in that darkness… something shifted.
A friend of my husband sent me information about a course she was considering—the Equine Partnered Academy (EPA).
I can honestly say—it saved my life.
It came to me at a time when I didn’t think I could keep going. That course helped me begin healing—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.
It gave me tools, guidance, and a way forward.
EPA became the gateway to everything that followed—Human Design, sound healing, breathwork, NLP, meditation, astrology.
Everything in my life now traces back to that one moment… when someone sent me a brochure.
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While my inner healing had begun, my physical journey was still ongoing.
For 18 months, I underwent test after test. My specialist was convinced it was breast cancer and seemed to be waiting for something—anything—to confirm it.
After $20,000 in appointments, scans, and biopsies, she finally told me she couldn’t get a positive result… that she had “done her job” and wished me luck.
But I was still sick.
I would have one week of relief, followed by 4–6 weeks of what I came to call my “flare-ups.”
They tried to diagnose me with regional pain syndrome. But I didn’t believe it—and I refused to accept it.
I knew my body.
I had lived with fibromyalgia since I was 14. I understood chronic pain. This wasn’t that.
This was something else.
I knew I was dealing with an infection—trapped poison from that spider bite. And if no one else was going to help me… I would have to help myself.
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Years earlier, I had travelled to Thailand to treat my Lyme disease. That experience gave me something invaluable: knowledge, and trust in my own body.
Where Western medicine had failed me, it had also taught me to listen to myself.
So I created my own healing protocol—using herbs and gut detoxing.
Within three weeks, the lump disappeared completely.
I lost 20 kilos of fluid, and for the first time since I was 14, I was almost pain-free.
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I wish I could say that everything stayed that way… but life doesn’t work like that.
The detox wasn’t sustainable long-term, and I still had deep trauma to work through—trauma from childhood through to my 40s.
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Through EPA, I began to see things differently.
Even though closing my business was my decision, it was my daughter who helped me realise something profound:
Why would I rebuild something that had made me so miserable?
She was right.
What I thought I loved was actually destroying me.
It took time to understand that what I truly loved wasn’t the work itself—it was how I made people feel.
That was the part I couldn’t let go of.
Still, walking away from a 22-year career was heartbreaking. For four months, I cried every single day.
I didn’t realise at the time that I was grieving—not just my business, but the life I thought I had lost, my identity.
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Then came the deeper healing.
By early 2025, through EPA, I was introduced to Human Design.
And for the first time in my life… I felt comfortable in my own skin.
I had always felt like an imposter. Like I had to hide parts of myself.
Human Design gave me clarity, validation, and a deep understanding of who I am—how I work, how I make decisions, and why I am the way I am.
It showed me that there is nothing wrong with me.
I’m not like anyone else—because I’m not meant to be.
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Now it’s April 2026.
And for the first time… I feel ready.
Ready to show the world who I am.
Ready to share everything I’ve learned.
Ready to make an impact.
I choose to believe that everything I’ve been through happened for a reason.
And that reason… is to make a difference.
