Hannah Corcoran

I am forever mesmerised by our senses. The gift of sight and smell, to hear and to be heard, to touch and be touched. The most underrated of pleasures are taken for granted yet have the ability to spark passion and further immerse in intimacy. They allow us to provide therapy, evoke emotion, communicate, educate, create, write history, and hold onto memories for a lifetime.

These senses allow us to feel warmth, to move, to breathe in cool air, to indulge in the flavours of good food, hot coffee and full bodied red wine. They grant us the pleasure of listening to intoxicating, carefully curated music, of holding our loved ones and exploring culture through song and dance.

We oversee the divine gift to plunge into cool water, feeling a ripple of changing sensations as our bodies regulate their temperature. To feel vibrations, to enjoy the sound of crashing waves, and to look at breathtaking art. Through our senses we feel the warmth of another’s skin under our fingertips, we build bonds with ourselves, others and the world around us.

Such an abundance of almost indescribable pleasures unique only to the individual.

I think exhaustion can bring out the worst in people… and I don’t mean the point before exhaustion, where your body is in a state of acute stress. I mean your absolute end point. Where judgement is clouded, you’re running on empty and your mind and body aches for relief. Exhaustion pushes us to act in a way we wouldn’t typically act; quite possibly our body’s way of scavenging for energy givers. Our mind’s call for desperation maybe.

It takes an educated, strong, and self aware person to realise when they are nearing exhaustion. It takes an even stronger person to take the right measures, and use the right tools to recharge and grow from it, ensuring that you avoid reaching the same point somewhere in the future… I’m working on becoming one of these people.

Sometimes life forces you to slow down. Take that as a blessing. Use it wisely.

Nevertheless, don’t beat yourself up. If you’ve reached the point of exhaustion, usually it’s because you’ve given your all; to yourself, to others, to those in need or to your goals and ambitions. But life is a marathon, not a sprint, and it is better when you have the energy to live it, being present for each of its beautiful seasons.

I don’t mean to say that you should quit. Unless the thing causing you exhaustion is something toxic. In that case, fuck it off.
But rather, reset yourself. Manage your time and work load, and prioritise yourself and the things/people that bring out in the best in you. Learn to say no and distance yourself from energy takers and external forces that disrupt you.
Peace of mind, your health and your happiness are the only things that matter in this life.

Some lengthy notes.

I have the pleasure of meeting a vast array of people on a daily basis from pre-pubescent to post-menopausal and post-andropausal ages. The percentage of these people who don’t have, at minimum, a fundamental understanding of how their body functions is something that always intrigues me. The people who are however in-tune with the runnings of their body, are people whom I marvel at and admire.

I cannot speak for others, but for myself, to feel my absolute best, most confident, comfortable, sexy and strong self, and to be proud of my body largely comes from understanding how it works and respecting every part of it. (I would be lying through my teeth if I were to tell you I feel like this 24/7, but it’s something I work on every damn day.)

Understanding how my body moves, how it feels, how far it can be pushed and how each system connects with the other. Understanding how some weeks my body will feel completely different to the next, why that is, and how to support my body through each phase of life.

… A little reminder for the both of us.

Pay mind to yourself.

Explore movement. Run, stretch, rest, feed your body. Manipulate it, heat it, cool it, and indulge it in every sense of the word.

Explore what your body enjoys and learn what it doesn’t.

Explore your weaknesses and strengths. Endure discomfort and growth. Embrace comfort and stability.

Educate yourself as much or as little as you want on your body’s systems. To be fair, they’re all pretty interesting.

Explore your feminine and masculine sides.

De-sexualise and sexualise your body.

…

Stand in your body’s corner and show it some love, it is the only one you have and it is fucking beautiful.

Drop society’s ideology of “perfect”.

If you want to improve on something that you aren’t confident about, you have the ability to, so do it. It is YOUR body.

Don’t be afraid to loudly represent your individuality.

Don’t be disheartened if you don’t know much about your body yet, we’re learning everyday… more and more, and it is never too late to start.

What is unconventional beauty?

Can you really define a term that in its own right is designed to be indefinable? If you really had to pinpoint what the term unconventional beauty means it would have something to do with being aware of the beauty of individuality.

While you cannot truly define the term, if I were to describe what unconventional beauty means to me –

It is to not base ones self off of, nor conform ones self to the societal standards and pressures of what is generally done or ‘meant to be’ in order to be classified as “beautiful”. The unconventional human is someone who lives against the grain of traditionalism and gender-based bias: someone who intentionally or even rather unintentionally forges a path for others who think outside the standardised box, and inspires others to live confidently as their unique selves.

Someone who is unconventionally beautiful doesn’t move in spite of the beauty standards. Rather they recognise beauty in its many forms and they just move. In their own lane… At their own pace.

So are they really that unconventional?

If you look at it from that perspective it seems that perhaps the current standard of beauty and the idea of making everyone the same in order to be classified as “beautiful” .. that should be what we define as unconventional beauty.

Perhaps then we would accept beauty in individuality as the norm.

Your business coach gives you a task; “Write down a 5 year plan. Write down what your goals are. Write down what you want to achieve.”

Thus, you write down physical goals and achievements. You write down how you will achieve these things and what steps you need to take to do so over the first 6 months, 12 months, 3 years and so on to get to the goal at the end of the 5 year plan.

Your business coach has given you 1 effective strategy for how to run a great business. However, does it truly align with you? Does it take into account the other aspects of your life and those involved? You know yourself better than anyone else ever will. What does your gut tell you? What does your mind and heart tell you?

Physical achievements will limit you. If you reach them…then what? If you don’t reach them… then what? Nothing is guaranteed.

A lot can change in 20 seconds let alone 5 years, you know that. So don’t think so far ahead. You think you are setting yourself up for success but really you are setting yourself up for a life of unhappiness. By following the path of the first strategy you are chasing an uncontrollable measure to gain a high, and if it slips from your reach misery will loom.

What does success even mean to you?

Redirect your perspective back to what is truly aligned to you. Change your goal. What are your values? How do you work to align with your values right now? Not just in business, but within everything. How can you grow and evolve with your values as they grow and evolve? How does this business add to your life, rather than take value from it? Ask yourself the same question about other aspects of your life; are you surroundings helping or hindering you? Do they align with your values? Do they bring out the best in you?

You know what is truly important to you. You know what your true meaning of success is.. and it’s damn well not a life of material luxury, rather a life of sentimental value.

Don’t be scared. You can only truly be successful when you are willing to fail. in business, in love, in travel, in literally all aspects of life. Failure is inevitable. Don’t go into a situation doubting yourself and trying to control whether you will succeed or fail. You have limited control over those outcomes so lead with love for the process, not the outcome. That in itself is success. Remember that improvement in anything in life is based on thousands of tiny failures and how you move forward from them. So if it doesn’t work out now, that’s okay. You had fun while you were doing it and you now know something that you didn’t know before.

Trust fall. it’s as simple as that. Trust what is meant for you. Trust your intuition. Fear has ruined more things for you than you can keep count of so don’t give it control over your other emotions (look how far you’ve already come, your fear is so much quieter these days). Don’t allow it to have a seat at the table of decision making.

You travel on uncommon paths. That is not to say that they aren’t the right paths for you just because they are less travelled by others.

My intuition has never led me astray. So how much of the blame is to be placed upon my fear… How much of the blame is to be placed upon yours…

I don’t know if I wrote this personally, or if I read it somewhere but it was in my notes app.

‘Most of us will manifest thousands of ideas in our lifetime. None of them were meant to define us. They just spoke through us, temporarily. Let us not be so attached to what works and doesn’t, or what others praise or don’t. We can find comfort from our role as creators, rather than trying to find it from society’s fickle opinion.

Then we can be free to create simply for the sake of creating, much like the universe itself does,

Creativity cannot be scheduled. It does not respond to pleas or begging. It cannot be summoned. Creativity is spontaneous, even impulsive. To be a creative person means that we have to accept its spontaneous nature.’

There is always a potential and desire to soften; To release one’s inner child in protection and safety, unfolding in vulnerability and freeing the many traits of one’s self for un-compromised expression.

The differentiating ease of this usually stems from how far behind the safety of our built up walls the inner child resides. Keep learning to soften, knocking down the walls. It wont happen overnight but be patient with yourself as you learn. Be patient with others as they learn, but don’t compromise yourself to appease their growth and don’t expect that of another.

The world hasn’t always been kind to you, but I’m proud of you for beginning to learn depth over distance. A reminder; continue to work on not letting yourself be jaded by the past, and to not let those emotions rule your future and seep into your experiences and relationships.

The templates of your past can provide insight in the beginning but it’s critical to think beyond what has been before and to look at what is new with fresh eyes. Approach what is new with as few accepted rules, starting points and limitations as possible. Take it as it comes and ride the wave while the wave is there.

I know who I am. Now more than ever. However over the last 2 years I have not had the capacity to fully explore in depth every essence of the person that I am, nor express and articulate myself to others. Call it survival mode maybe… or hustle szn (eyeroll)

I won’t lie, I’ve almost completely lost myself during this time. Fragments of myself dance in and out of the months, making their way to the surface to bask in the view before sinking back to depths almost unreachable. Doing so at such a pace that sometimes I don’t realise that I’ve even gone again, or just how much time had passed since my last breath of air. Sometimes the ugliest parts of myself suffocate my true self. Almost as if there is an internal battle between the two for that small gasp of air. Frustration and guilt have spent a lot of time living alongside the distractions of my mind.

Peter Theil says “internal conflict is like an auto-immune disease.” While he speaks of company structures I think this statement imparts transferable wisdom to the topic of stress.

One of the many lessons I’ve learnt from the last 2 years is that my body can surpass my mind 10 fold. Yet both mind and body fail eventually. You may see me, but am I always really there?

I can however remember quite vividly the moments of bliss and ease. Even the smallest details of these moments play out with such vibrancy, how could one possibly ever forget them.

Which in all honesty is surprising given much of the rest is a greyscale blur.

• Sometimes they looked like Hollywood hills and specially cut keys… Soft, caressing fingertips and bright morning rays… Rooftops and memorised coffee orders… Heatless curls, hair wraps, and bubble tea… Long hugs and even longer eye gazes… familiar faces and familiar spaces… Airport drop offs and posters from the 70’s… Hand written letters and book exchanges… Dinner on the carpet and ‘here, taste some of mine’… Sometimes it looked like my long term relationship with reclusiveness, every sip of shiraz to ever exist, and felt tables that house more love and banter than chips and cards… sometimes it looked like new music in the midnight hours and the first time your saliva slowly slipped between my lips to the back of my throat as our eyes locked…Sometimes the moments looked like phone calls across time zones and lengthy solo weekend drives… Hard fucks under soft blue clouds… Chicken laksa with chilli and peppy tea… 80 degree siestas, shark infested waters, “I love you more sissy”, and the kind of laughs that make your cheeks hurt, your eyes water and your ankle bleed… And sometimes… a lot of the time honestly… They just looked like Sunday mornings.

In these moments time froze amidst the chaos that I’d created.

Yes, during this time I did tend to ‘spread myself too thin’ for lack of a better phrase. For where I was heading I didn’t have the luxury of lessoning my work load. However, I didn’t want that to mean that moments such as these were sacrificed.

Given my circumstances over the past 2 years, I feel space has been left for narrow minded perceptions to be made by others. For conclusions to be drawn and interpretations created of their own accord with little guidance or push back from myself, which of course is of no fault of their own. However, it seems as though if you aren’t writing your novel for the world to read, the world feels compelled to write one for you. I don’t see a problem with words being unwritten and unspoken for a moment in time. Silence need not be filled for the sake of being filled and assumptions need not be made out of the uncomfortable feeling that humans experience when they lack information.

Anyway, I hold no remorse against this. I actually find interest in learning what these external perceptions are. They almost acts as markers for the part of my life that I was in when that person knew me (or thought they knew me). Indicators of what version of me they were presented with and what fragment of myself was being delivered at that moment in time.

…Eternal love for those who have seen the many seasons. No love lost for those who have not.

Food for thought… People will see, believe and narrate what they want regardless of how much energy you put into telling or showing your truth.

My concern is not what others think of me. My concern is what I think of myself. I am less concerned with spending my time ensuring you know who I am. I would rather spend a lifetime ensuring I know myself, and when I’ve lost myself… I would rather spend a lifetime finding myself again, rather than ensuring you know why I was lost in the first place.

A task such as this is an internal one. It is a story told in silence and solitude. It starts with forgiveness and it ends with a shorter list of fears. It may never be a story that reaches your ears, and perhaps if it does, it may still never be a story that truly reaches your soul. But the prospect of that is not one that weighs heavy on my mind.

I can feel myself gravitating toward a new lust. A lust for observing life itself. For sitting in stillness and silence absorbing the motions of the world around me in all its loudness and abundance. Matching sounds to their visual associates.

When my vision is clear, I view life through a cinematic lens with a rose coloured tint, and I can feel myself being tugged in a direction to create and to share the way that I view things through film. I know nothing about film… literally nothing. But I know what I see and I know that I have a curiosity and desire to figure out how to capture and recreate it. Sharing what I see through a raw, visual capacity such as film.. I think that is the next chapter. And if not the next, then at least at some point in the future.

The statement itself is simple – ‘change is necessary for change.’

The question lies in whether change will come from something as simple as turning the page to the next chapter.. or whether the book will be better closed.

Time will tell I suppose.

‘Vanille Fraise’

McIver’s ladies baths, Coogee.
1:41pm December 5th 2023.
28 degrees. 24km winds.

This pocket of the coastline has brought me much peace over the last 3 months. Here I’ve spent many hours over many days sprawled across sunbathed rocks; nipples basking and stiffened under the wind’s caress, cord from my wired earbuds soft between my breasts.

Some days the baths offer solitude. A quiet place to read, to think…to not think. Or to slowly venture between the ocean pool and the many parts of the rocks that line the waters edge. Other days like today, hundreds of women lay alongside each other leaving little space to roam.

Routinely pulling my book from my bag, I briefly gaze ahead and notice a woman sitting on a large flat rock before the drop off to the waves below. She has her back to me, knees tucked to her chest, the ocean horizon filling the canvas either side of her. Beyond her lay early breaking waves and a sea mist that coats the sky in a summer haze.

Accompanying her are the most simple of things.
Beneath her; a baby blue towel. Beside her; a bikini top, book, apple and a small cutting knife. The wind’s efforts to pick up and tangle her hair falling short as her brunette, somewhat shaggy bob stays slicked with salt water. She seems no more phased by the wind than she is the bodies around her.

There is nothing overly extraordinary about the visual in front of me. Yet, the calm and gracious energy which seems to radiate from this woman at the very least deserves to be recognised and taken in for a moment.

For the first time in years I wish I had my sketch book and pencils with me.

Saturday, September 7th. A chance encounter in an average place, and a moment in time that I am truly grateful for.

A genuine mutual interest, deep admiration, and desire to know more about one another. The perfect balance of intellectual dialogue, light heartedness & poetic grace.

He spoke of many things; his college days, his time as a diplomat and his work toward national security. He proudly spoke of his achievements, he shared his reservations about his new found state of retirement, and his face lit up as he told me about his love for literature & history. He spoke of his wife and the way he was smitten from the very first day he met her in that elevator.. He told me stories of their 40 years together; the ease of their love and their many adventures… married within 6 months and living together across the other side of the world within a year. He spoke to great lengths about their son, daughter-in-law, grandson, and of his intense passion for cathedral music despite being a firm atheist. We delved into the stories of his grandfather’s time at war. We hailed our long standing friendships and the people that mean the most to us. We spoke of our purposes, passions and inspirations. Of business, the great artists and musicians of the world, of my past love, and the tales of the ink on my arms.

We hung onto each others words… He would tell you I was excellent at asking questions. I would say he was better at answering them.

We spoke of travel, of the short stories he had written, and the diary entries I had logged. We spoke about Keno, my home town, and the time I lost myself trying to make something of myself.

Matthew is one of the few people I’ve met who I would sit and listen to for hours on end. His mind like a library full of books that I would rarely tire of reading. He is one of the few people I have met who I would be honoured to have as a mentor. A level headed man with a well lived life.

… He is one of the few people who know a great deal about me. Within 2 hours, he eagerly endeavoured to learn and understand more about me than some of the people that I’ve known for years. A conversation and a connection that held no space for superficiality, ego, assumptions or prejudice. Two people simply asking and listening and laughing…. Asking more… listening more… laughing even more… and thoroughly enjoying the stories of each others lives.

Bless.

‘Your world is only as beautiful as your mind.’

About this time a year ago, I visited this screen and wrote about the same topic via a very different lens. Last year, I wrote about feeling fragmented, as if parts of myself were lost amidst the chaos of my life. I was in survival mode, grappling with the weight of my struggles while navigating a landscape that often felt dark and isolating. During that time, I operated in emotional disconnect. Avoiding vulnerability, leaning heavily on hyper-independence, my own strength, or substances to get through each day. It felt necessary to put up walls to guard myself against the past and present pains. I didn’t possess the tools or time to live differently at this stage in my life. I was only 6 months in when I realised something was off. That the pace I was moving at wasn’t sustainable… That I was losing myself, and that things were going to get worse before they got better. But I also knew I didn’t have any other option but to lock in for 3 years. I was in financial shackles. What I did do during that time, was make a plan for as soon as the 3 years was up. I put the plan in place, I put blinders on to everything else and essentially those 3 years became a haze with only one focus… get to the end of the tunnel. Come out the other side.

Looking back with fresh eyes, did I really need to do it that way? Some would say ‘No’ I am sure. But I don’t think I had any other option at that point. I didn’t have the right people in my life to support me, carry some of the weight, or even begin to understand what I was going through or what I was trying to achieve. Trust me, I tried reaching out, and sometimes I was simply just too tired to even try and explain. But some people aren’t equiped to face the struggles that you endure. And that’s okay. I am grateful to be able to recognise that and limit my expectations accordingly. I also didn’t know any different. And fuck, to be honest… I did the absolute best I could with what I knew.

Once the three years was up, I had a 2 week break and it felt like the weight of the world was freed from my shoulders. The feet that had been standing on my neck and chest for three years suddenly weren’t there anymore. I imagine that’s what breathing for the first time must feel like. It was now time to make the radical shift. I couldn’t go back to the same pace. It would soon ruin me and everything in my wake. And if not that, it would wear me down slowly instead – these days I don’t have the perks of naivety and youthful adrenaline backing me as much as I did at the start. Apparently, a byproduct of my frontal lobe developing was realising I’m not, in fact, invincible.

If someone were to offer me the chance to go back and do it differently though, I’m not too sure I would take them up on the offer. These were the hands I was dealt for a reason. I think I needed to learn the hard way, and while it was the hardest time of my life, it has made me who I am today, and I am grateful for that. I’ve found the resilience to push through hell, and not be jaded by it as I move into the next season of my life. For that hell wasn’t for nothing. I did in-fact achieve what I had set out to during this time, and then some. I’m proud of myself for that.

If I were giving advice to someone else however, I’d definitely recommend looking at an alternative route. But that’s in hindsight. I’m hyper-aware that there is no linear way to heal. However, the journey can be much smoother, more direct, and less taxing on yourself and those around you if you take the path of connection.

One path—the one I traveled down for far longer than three years. In all honesty, I’ve travelled this road for most of my life —leads to isolation, and all the incredibly sexy things that come along with it. This journey feels heavy and dark, leaving you wandering in uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate the shadows of loneliness that surround you.

In contrast, another path—the one I’ve made a conscious effort to walk down this year—opens up the possibility of connection and support. Here, you find solace in the presence of others. Even if they don’t share the same journey as you, its really nice to still walk side by side, helping each other along the way. Each step taken together brings understanding and compassion. Conversations flow like gentle streams, and shared experiences become the threads that bind you. In these moments, the weight of your burdens feels lighter, and healing becomes a shared endeavour. This path feels more hopeful, calmer, safer, with far less sacrifices and set backs.

Nevertheless, I believe that if someone truly desires to be their best self and be successful, whatever that may look like to them, their determination alone will persist through either path. That’s really all that matters in the end: that no matter what, you come out the other side. I feel as though both paths may require you to leave behind people, parts of yourself, and things you once thought would be permanent fixtures in your life. However, change can be pretty beautiful if you are able to view it through a rose-colored lens and accept all of the things that come with it.

H x

It hurts, but I won’t fight it. I don’t understand it, yet I now need not question it. Thank you for doing what I failed to do many a time before. I’ll see you in every poppy that blooms. However, I hope to not see you in any more espresso rooms.

A book for a bar — I’m sure we are both happier now we are apart.

‘Grande es el arte de comenzar, pero mayor el arte de terminar’ – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

‘Le Métier’

Pt 1 – When I first got into the industry at 14/15 yrs old, it came from my own personal struggles with acne, gut issues, and hormonal imbalances — and at the young age I started, my self-confidence was very low. I felt disconnected from my body through most of my teenage years and early 20’s, and honestly hadn’t learnt much about my body at that point, let alone how to love it. That sense of misalignment and the desire to understand & nurture my body — that’s what led me here. I started my school based apprenticeship, not just to correct my skin dysfunctions, but to find myself. And in doing so, I realised I had a real opportunity to nurture, guide, support and teach others in the same way.

From the beginning, ‘beauty’ to me was never about perfection. It was about reconnection to self.

Brow artistry, skin health, detail work — it all became a way to help people return to themselves, understand the ins and outs of their body, and truly see their own beauty. Not to change them, but to reveal what was always there. A version of them that feels true. Through brows, through skin, through every quiet detail — I was creating space. Space for people to feel at home in themselves.

I worked as a technician across various areas of the beauty industry for 10 years before recently lessoning my face to face client hours — This work gave me structure. It gave me purpose. It gave me a home. It gave me a way to show love through detail. To teach people about their bodies and empower them with confidence and self-acceptance. But more than anything, it gave me connection — with others, and with myself.

Yes, I love the craft and the science. I always have. Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you I am a massive nerd for skin science and holistic health.

PLUS! Who doesn’t love a good set of brows!

For a long time, I believed that was my why — the skill, the detail, the transformation. But in recent years, I’ve taken a step back and really unpacked my journey through this career. I now realise that wasn’t the full story.

Growing up I always craved care and guidance — The beauty industry provided that to me, and raised me in that way I guess… that softness, that safety, that sense of being held, understood, taught, and cared for. And without realising it, I built a career around offering exactly that to others.

I never knew what my career would turn into. Everything I have ever done has been guided by my intuition, a high risk tolerance, and built-in tendency to be defiant — I’ve always just followed what felt right, what felt good, what felt like me.

However in saying that, I always knew I wanted to own my own business.

Even from the time I was an apprentice.

I guess this takes us to pt 2…

‘Le Métier’

Pt 2 -To shed some light on my experience as a business owner so far: I failed 3 times when first attempting to start up/buy into business before something finally landed. 6.5 years ago, at 22 yrs old, I founded Haus of Cosmetic Tattoo, and currently still operate as a sole trader. 3.5 years ago I became a partnering director at The Lab alongside Tegan & Sianne after working with the team for 2ish years. And for the past 1.5 years I have been the sole director here at The Lab.

During my time in business I have learnt A LOT. And I’ve unlearnt even more.

The most recent 2 years of business ownership broke me down and cracked me open (in the most brutal of ways). They stripped away everything that no longer served me and forced me to rebuild from a place of integrity. I didn’t grow up with a traditional foundation for running a business or leading a team. I wasn’t taught how to communicate effectively, educate, hold space for my co-workers, or create a work-life balance. No one showed me how to manage money, how to create, plan, delegate or build something sustainable.

What I did grow up with… survival and determination. No safety net. No backup plan. Just grit, resilience, a sharp gut instinct, and a strong work ethic. My family have always been hard workers, and absorbing those qualities from them is what has carried me through the hardest and most testing moments of my life, including the first 5 years in business. I am unbelievable grateful for these traits, but as time goes on I’ve realised that surviving isn’t the same as leading or guiding — and certainly not the same as living.

During my sixish years of business — slow and scattered in the beginning, hard and fast more recently — I’ve worked relentlessly to evolve. To learn emotional intelligence, vulnerability and patience. To work as a team, to effectively manage a business.

I’ve worked to unlearn what once kept me safe, in order to grow into the kind of woman and mentor I want to be. — A woman who supports and builds up others without abandoning herself. who pursues her dreams without over-functioning. And who knows her worth outside of her accomplishments. In the process of this I am also aiming to build an environment that feels safe, open, and strong for those around me.

None of these lessons have come easy. The complete opposite of that actually. And this idea of ‘becoming’ doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a life long journey. One that I am fully committed to. I’m constantly learning through self-awareness, reflection and discipline — picking up little nuggets of gold from books, podcasts, my dear friends, my team, few cherished mentors, my therapist. Through many f ups, missteps, redirection, and a lot of time spent doing things the hard way, I am now trying to do things the smart way.

My “why” has evolved with me.

As you just read, at first it was for myself and my clients. But now, it’s greater than just you and me.

I’m working to build something I never had — for my team, our clients, our community, my younger self, and for my family. I want to create a business that doesn’t mirror the chaos, pressure, and emotional suppression I absorbed from toxic work environments or learned growing up: support without micromanagement, feedback without shame, growth without burnout. And self empowerment without guilt.

I won’t pretend I’ve mastered it. I’m far from perfect. But I’m conscious. I’ve done the work to break my own cycles of burnout. I catch myself quicker now. I course-correct. I own it. And I keep showing up better — for them, and for myself.

Mentoring my team now means just as much to me as my craft. Helping them grow in skill, confidence, and self-trust is what lights me up most! These women are INCREDIBLE, and I am beyond blessed to know them.

I want them to feel proud of the role they play — because they are The Lab! Their care, their energy, their passion, their growth — that’s what makes this place what it is.

At the heart of it, my business journey started with survival. But now, it’s built on longevity. My “why” is to rewrite what leadership and small business looks like — to lead from clarity, presence, and care. To prove that you can be strong and soulful. Profitable and principled. Structured and human. And I will keep building toward that.

This is my why.

‘These four walls’

If I am you and you are me. 

How now do we oscillate? 

For all that lie here now, is the indifference that binds you to me, and me to you.

No one soul able to breathe life into the other as we now breathe only from the same tired lungs.

Go beyond these four walls. The known and overused. the tired and overdrawn. Seek out our passion lost, the fuel that sparks us both. For yours and my fire alike will snuff out should we stay in these four walls.

So now, as we are —

both lost for air and swallowed by smoke.

may I leave these four walls?

may I reach for my oxygen mask

before passing you yours?

For all that lies here now

is the indifference that binds

you to me, and me to you.

if you were mine

I wouldn’t tuck you in my back pocket with the rest of the world.

I’d make you a home between my thighs.

your spine riding the zipper of my favourite blue jeans.

your lips pressed to mine

and your tongue…

baby, make this house your home.

I want you to give me everything you’ve got. Every inch. Every angle. from the surface to the fullest depth

Give it to me

back arched,

toes curled,

teeth sunk in.