Let's go back to the very start.

Born  in  a  small  town. 

I grew up on 100 acres with my three siblings (Lil, Han & Jai) in a tiny town inland from Byron Bay called Kyogle. No traffic lights. No roundabouts. Just a working-class family who taught us the value of money from a young age. Or, in Mum’s words, “money doesn’t grow on trees.”

I remember my friends asking for iPads for their birthdays. I asked for goats. Or horses. Or chickens. Or a dog. Or a cat. Once, I even asked for hermit crabs. Looking back, I think those animals taught me more than I realised at the time.

And although I grew up in quite a broken family (yep, I ran away from home multiple times a month), I still felt like I grew up rich.

Rich in ownership. Rich in responsibility. Rich in resilience.

My  First  Business 

At 11, I turned my love of horses into my first little business. I started giving horse riding lessons after school, still wearing my primary school uniform.

It wasn’t exactly a once-in-a-blue-moon lemonade stand either - I kept that little business running for years, right through to the age of 18, just before I left home.

It was probably the most cash-positive business I’ve ever had - very much a “ride at your own risk” kind of situation.

Every dollar went straight into a glass jar under my bed. Then one day, I put my prices up from $20 an hour to $25. No one questioned it. I remember thinking, “Wow. This is what it’s like to be in business.”

Those ponies definitely paid for their own keep and taught a lot of kids how to ride. But more importantly, they taught me the fundamentals of business: that you can trade your time, your skills and something you’re good at for money.

I fell in love with building something that was mine.

I  Started  Building 

At 16, I started my fitness qualifications and built my own fitness business. The second I got my certificate, I was ready to go. I stuck posters up on the main street and posted on my hometown Facebook page. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had a pretty solid go-to-market plan.

This business taught me some hard lessons: that sometimes, not everyone will support you or cheer you on, and that you can’t rely on validation or approval from your friends or family. You have to back yourself and be the single clap in what can feel like an empty auditorium.

I worked SO hard. I was hungry to make it work, to have something of my own. I was up before the sun, working before school and sneaking out just before the bell, only to rush home to teach my classes before heading off to one of my many other jobs. I felt like Barbie with all my different jobs - I always had a bag full of uniforms with me, changing into whatever version of me the next role needed.

I got pretty good at knocking on doors. And sometimes, at allowing myself in.

I  Left  Home 

At 18, I left. I got on my first-ever flight - the same flight, ironically, that took me away from my small, humble hometown - and moved to Hamilton Island.

I didn’t have anything planned - I just knew I wanted to go, grow and figure it out for myself. I had a single bed in a shared room, and I picked up every extra shift and every bit of overtime I could get.

I worked at the sports club, then moved out onto the water - the Great Barrier Reef became my office. I went from teaching classes in the gym to running snorkel tours on the reef, learning every fish and coral fact I could and entertaining guests for hours. Then I moved to Airlie Beach, where I kept working the boats, running group fitness classes, teaching Pilates and working in real estate.

A skill set stacked by saying YES - to different jobs, new challenges and every opportunity that came my way.

$100,000 

With all my jobs and the hours I was clocking, I kept saving my hard-earned pennies and living well within my means. I set myself a goal: $100,000 in cash, in one account, before I turned 20 - and I was determined to hit it. That meant selling my clothes on Facebook Marketplace, selling random belongings to my friends, and doing whatever I could to get myself over the line. Right before my 20th birthday, I did.

I’d learnt the value of money from a very young age, and eventually I realised Mum was right all along - money really doesn’t grow on trees. I had to work for what I wanted. But truthfully, I didn’t really want the material things. I wanted to prove to myself that I could take care of myself, that I could be financially free, that I’d always have the ability to choose my own life.

Seeing my Mum feel like she couldn’t leave a toxic relationship because of money made financial independence mean something very different to me. I wanted to give back to her for everything she’d given me, while making sure I never felt stuck in a situation simply because I couldn’t afford to leave it. So I spent weekends selling clothes at markets, scouring the racks at Vinnie’s for cheap, pre-loved denim and reselling it for five, sometimes ten times what I’d paid. The workers at the op shop knew me by name.

I didn’t just learn how to save money - I learnt how to make it.

My  First  Property 

2:47am

Transaction complete. Funds released.

At 21, while working as an au pair in England on Perth hours (up at 1am, three kids to look after, squeezing in whatever work I could), I bought my first investment property. The contract went through on a cold, dark English winter morning, while everyone was asleep.

I was up working the Perth hours, and I remember staring at that screen feeling unbelievably proud of myself, because I knew exactly how I’d got there - the little girl who learnt money didn’t grow on trees, the 11-year-old with a glass jar under her bed, the teenager working before and after school, the girl who sold her clothes and spent weekends at markets. All of it had led me here.

And although it wasn’t the classic champagne outside the house, keys in hand, putting the sold sticker on, I knew it was far greater than that - I didn’t just buy my first investment property; I invested in my future, in me!

I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t jump. No confetti. No one to celebrate with. Just me, alone on the other side of the world.

Living a life I’d once only dreamed about.

I  Bet  On  Myself 

That role I was working in England? Yep, I landed it remotely after three applications and some pretty crazy follow-up.

The ad said they wanted someone hungry, driven and motivated by money - I thought, well, yep, that’s me. The funny part? I didn’t even know what I was selling or recruiting until my first day. Trades and construction, in WA - a state I’d never been to, an industry I’d never worked in and knew very little about.

But I knew I just had to make it work. So I did.

I left England and my au pair family to move to Bali and, ultimately, closer to the Perth time zone.

Within my first three months, I billed more than $250,000 in revenue. I worked long hours, had a lot of uncomfortable conversations, and threw myself headfirst into one of the most male-dominated industries I’d ever worked in - pretending I knew what tradespeople were talking about while frantically learning an entirely new language along the way.

Six months in, I bet on myself again - I left the agency and built Levee, a talent acquisition company built around creating leverage through the power of people.

Something really got to me, though: everywhere I looked, the people I was learning from, building with and looking up to were men. Not because there weren’t incredible women doing incredible things - I just wasn’t seeing enough of them.

So I started looking.

Perth 

At the end of 2025, I packed a backpack and moved to Perth. I knew no one - zero friends, no family - and I was starting from scratch, building a business and an entirely new life at the same time. Honestly, it felt weird.

After so long overseas, moving back to Australia almost felt like quitting. But I knew Perth made sense for the business, so I did it anyway.

The business part was the easy decision. Finding my people was harder. I’d met so many ambitious, entrepreneurial, like-minded people living in America, England and Indonesia, and I wanted that again - so I looked everywhere. Facebook groups. Events. Online communities. Even Bumble BFF. At one point I remember thinking, am I really on a dating app made for best friends? This is getting desperate.

Then there was the small issue of somewhere to live. My first address in Perth was a hostel, because I couldn’t find a room. I actually made some great friends there - but there were definitely moments I’d look around and think, oh no, what have I done. “So you live here, you’re Australian?” people would ask. “Yeah, but I’m actually from the East Coast,” I’d say, hoping that would save me from a bit of embarrassment. But when they asked what I did and I explained that I own a recruitment agency, they’d say, “So you’re a CEO? And you’re living in a hostel.” Yeah, I guess, technically. (Cue awkward laugh.)

Starting again doesn’t always look glamorous. But I wasn’t there because I’d failed - I was there because I was willing to start from scratch… again.

Hot  Girls  Do  Business 

Those people I was looking for? They were harder to find than I thought. So I decided to take matters into my own hands - if I couldn’t find the community, I’d build it.

So… I built the community I wish I’d had when I first started in business and, if I’m honest, the group of friends I wish I’d had when I first moved to Perth.

A place for ambitious women to back themselves, build businesses and change the trajectory of what’s possible - somewhere you could walk in and feel like you belonged, where your questions could be answered and your struggles could be shared.

Our first event sold out. That told me something - Perth needs more of this. Maybe the world does too. And now I’m here, still building, still figuring it out, and ready for whatever comes next. Maybe the next adventure won’t mean starting from scratch in a hostel dorm - maybe it’s the adventure of seeing how far I can take this, of changing the trajectory of what it looks like to be a young woman in business.

Because let’s be honest - do I really just look like a pretty face? I’m only just getting started. So glad you’re here!