Ring Ring

I am a 29 year old married woman who hails from Melbourne, Australia.

I have been married just over 3 years to a handsome Welsh hunk. We have two sausage dogs together, and I am very much NOT maternal.

The question is ladies, to wear or not wear the rings??

I have a job interview on Thursday. It’s for an advisory role working with Home and Community Care Packages. Do I have the qualifications, yes. Do I have the experience, yes. Do I have all relevant checks, yes.

My issue is not my confidence, experience, or actually anything relating to the job in question, my biggest debate going on in my head is whether or not to wear my wedding rings….

You see, my last role I sat across from the CEO in my interview and all was going well. I build rapport easily, so conversation was flowing and I was genuinely attracted to the prospects of this role. Half way through the interview this is where I was completely thrown:

CEO: ‘I see you wearing wedding rings. Are you married?’

Me: *a little thrown but hey I rolled with it* ‘Yes I am.’

CEO: ‘Are you planning on having babies any time soon?’

Me: *inner monologue sounded a little like…WTF, she actually just asked me that, do I lie, what do I say, I want this job, or do I? Fuckkkkkkkk*

‘No we aren’t planning on having children anytime soon’. (this was not a lie, but more what happened if i accidentally fell pregnant/changed my mind?)

CEO: ‘Good I want someone for at least 5 years, I don’t want any more babies or pregnancies in this office’.

Me: ummmm ok.

I left the interview feeling really down and completely thrown. As a white, straight female, I can 100% say I am privileged. I do not get discriminated against like some of my friends. For me, this would have to be one of the first times in my life I felt I was being judged purely due to my age and marital status.

I get it. I am of child rearing age, AND I am married.

My question to you is, what do you think?

Should I wear the rings or not?

I actually would love some opinions.

I don’t want to lie. The honest truth is Glyn and I do not know when we want kids. I am proud to be married. I also want to keep my personal life separate to my work life. Let me know your thoughts?


Just Do

This week I am slowly going insane. Patience has dwindled and I have nearly lost my voice due to shouting at my 90-year-old deaf Gramps.

Family is an interesting one. We are bound to these people yet sometimes I sit back and wonder how the hell I ended up at an Airbnb in Bendigo talking about ingrown toenails with my aunt and ancient grandparents.

At one point at lunch today, I swear I was the only sane one. Mum was downing wine to cope, I mentioned my recent Bali trip and my Grampa’s first reaction was ‘they blow you up over there’ :/, and Nanna was squirreling her left over fish and chips in a napkin. They told her they wouldn’t give her a doggy bag as it’s against regulation. Such a rule breaker.

At dinner i offered the table some Lindt chocolate. My Nanna’s response, ‘Oh I love mint’. Um yes, I also like mint….. :/

The reason we are in Bendigo?

My uncle is dying. Cancer. 3 weeks ago he was diagnosed and now he is on his death-bed.

Then all of a sudden, amongst my Gramps ranting about how Australia is going down the gurlger + my Nanna wanting another strawberry in her wine, a massive gratitude wave knocks me out. The fact I have grandparents ALIVE is a blessing. The fact I have family at all. I am healthy. Young. Loved. Loved above all by the people surrounding me in this room.

More than ever it hits me. I need to be brave and do it now. Take that trip. If you’re not in love, leave. If you want to move across the other side of the world. Do it. If you want to study again, enrol. Now.

Nothing like cancer and a finite time on this earth to slap you out of your woe is me bullshit story.

I know, cliché right?

Well, stop reading and get on with it 😉

Tic Toc

C x





Mum, shut the fuck up.

*Disclaimer. I love my Mum deeply.*

Hands up who has told their parents to shut the fuck up?

Sound a little harsh?

I don’t think so. Fucking deserved if you ask me.

Its taken me years to uncover who I am, and what I stand for. Unfortunately (or fortunately 😛 ), my core beliefs and values are in conflict with my folks a lot of the time. That’s cool. We are all unique and experience things that shape our life.

I know and stand in my truth. #iwokeuplikethis

The last few years in particular, my tolerance for their bullshit has become less and less, especially when they drink, and boy, can they drink.

So, this week my patience has been challenged in the form of them visiting Melbourne town. Saturday rolls up, and we had a dinner reservation for 7pm for my folks and 6 of their friends.

7pm comes and we are the first to arrive. We are seated and asked if we wanted something to drink. I state we will wait. By 7.20pm we are still minus the entire table so I have ordered a Prosecco and are texting Mum and Dad, where the hell are you! Apparently they lost track of time and are at a wine bar #wtf.

7.30pm and my husband and I are sitting at a fuck off table by ourselves apologising to the waitress on behalf of my folks :/ Talk about role reversal.

7.45pm they stumble in shit faced and blurry eyed. Well fuck. This is going to be fun.

Conversation flowed ok until Dad’s mate asked me what I did for work. I had not told them I had quit my job, so blurted the fact I was unemployed to a table of drunk baby boomers, AND, I didn’t have another job yet. God forbid.

I started explaining to Mum my feelings before I decided to leave my job. The anxiety that was crippling me. The depression that had taken over. The fact I did not like who I was becoming. This was her response:

“I just don’t get your generation. We never had these problems. No one ever had depression. We just worked. You say you can’t afford to buy in Melbourne, then why don’t you move? We just worked and never complained. I am not sure what it is you want? You are searching for something that doesn’t exist”.


Fuck off, fuck off and fuck off and PS fuck off!

I felt like I could scream. She had no fucking idea what I had been through. No idea at all (read my previous post to see just how fucked up I have been the last month). Nor did she seem like she cared. Regardless of all of that, I was just sad. So sad that she thought it was ok for me to continue on the way I was. That is was ok to feel that way because in her mind that is just the ‘way it is’.

So, instead I told her to shut the fuck up. Changed the subject and moved on. There is no fighting that kind of mindset. No point in trying to prove anything. Perhaps my choice of words wasn’t my finest moment, but she got the point I was not going to have a ‘your generation is so spoilt’ conversation.

So, too all that gals who want more, know that I am in your court. Standing behind you when you have the guts to stand up and tell them how it is. How you want it. How you choose your reality.

Know that I am cheering you on when you stand in your truth, even if your closest family thinks it’s a whole heap of weird BS.

Being worthy isn’t something that is earned, its something that is recognised. And gal, you are so fucking worthy.

Be brave, until next time babe town

C xo

Good at Many Things, Master of None

Who else gets fed up with these damn amazing people and their talents! By god, its rife! 😛

So if your new to this blog (considering this is my second, all of you 😛 ) I quit my long-term managerial role at a disability company and came to the conclusion that working in the community service sector does not serve me (10 years later :/ ).

I’ve basically had a quarter life crisis/meltdown.

I know, so millennial of me.

Since then, I have gone on a 3 day detox, had colonic irrigation (this deserves an entire blog post on its own), sought the help from multiple people, booked a trip to Sri Lanka in November, culled my Facebook, got drunk multiple times (yes I understand this conflicts the detox), watched all series of The Originals and The Vampire Diaries on Netflix, slept in, did some journalling, meditated, meditated some more, prepped every slow cooked meat possible, weird. Any who, I rearranged my linen closet (at this point I was concerned), spent $90 at Adairs on house fragrance as I swear my stink is seeping into the walls, went to Oasis Bakery (Melbourne gals you know where it’s at!), asked for 15 slices of prosciutto, got home and ate the whole fucking lot. Again, finding myself.

What a process!

I have stopped binge eating expensive cured meats and also succumbed to the fact that just because I am not meant for the community service sector, does not mean I can not be of service to people!

Fast forward a few weeks. It’s an early Saturday morning at Grain Store in the city. Sitting in front of me is an entrepreneur who has been running a successful start-up company in the building and construction industry for 4 years. They are in massive growth and they need help (hence the interview). What I loved about her, her business and choosing to meet with me is I have no experience in the construction industry. None at all. Yet she doesn’t care. She would prefer personality, integrity, trust and talent over a degree and years of experience in one field. She wants someone who is good at many things!

Two words. In Awe.

It got me thinking, what else am I good at? What else could I do? I pigeonholed myself for years (I literally only search in the community service section on seek as it’s where my experience lies). What else could I be doing?

I can boldly say that I am good at many things, but master of none. It just so happens that this my friends, is where the money is at!

Times are changing. Business is changing. Management is changing. People are wanting to be conscious leaders. Someone could be shit hot, a master at their craft, yet they fall down in all other areas.

OR, we could look at it like this.

You are great at many, many things, master of none, like me. Pile these up and you have someone who fucking rocks. You don’t have to be a master at one thing to have crazy freaky success.

Did I get the job? Only time will tell. What I do know is it made me realise there is SO much more out there. So much to explore and become. So much opportunity to use my skill set and experience. You are at the centre of your reality, so just choose.

Until next time peeps,

C xo






What the Actual Fuck

Who else wakes up and thinks, what the fuck am I doing?

Cue this blog, this site, and my life.

I am your average 29 year old gal. When people ask me what I enjoy, I immediately think Champagne and D’affinois. I love a good Netflix series, travel, sex, dachshunds, candles, expensive shit + a good Pinot. I love my friends, entertaining, dumplings and old-fashioned cocktails. I love summer, weekends away, good bed linen +attempting to grow plants. I have a lot of love, for a lot of things.

What most people don’t know is, I have been in a spiral of depression and anxiety for the better part of two years. It wasn’t until I had an anxiety attack where I thought I may die, that I realised, Claire, what the actual fuck are you doing??

I built a career I hated, not hated, loathed. I became obsessed with Sim City build it on my phone just for some monotonous relief (that addictive bastard took some time to delete!). I despise the 9-5 grind. The worst was 8.30am-9am where I used to sip on my coffee and dread when it came time to leave my comfy coffee shop and head up to the office. Same in, same out…..bag down, computer on, diary out, emails, more emails, phone starts ringing, people wanting a piece of me that I just did not have to give. More and more soul sucking bullshit, until 5pm came and I could not leave quick enough. That, however, backfires on you, because if you are a good worker, dedicated, you definitely don’t leave at 5pm…..why do they even call it 9-5pm. Just say it like it is fuck tards, its more like 8am-6.30pm?

So I quit. My body physically could not step foot into that place one more day, for one more second. I left a place that did not serve me, nor respect my love. What I became was not me. I was impatient, resentful, quick to anger. I was eating to solve my issues, became irritable, unmotivated and fuck, was I tired, so tired. ALL. THE. TIME. I worked in the disability field, and I stopped caring for my clients. As simple as that. I stopped caring. As much as I tried, my feelings took over, and that’s where I learnt the biggest lesson of my life.

Feelings ALWAYS trump logic. Always. Just because something ‘makes sense’, does not mean its right. Your body and mind work in weird and mysterious ways. You know that feeling when you meet someone for the first time, you feel they are not right for you?Something tells you to not pursue that relationship, yet logic kicks in and is like “this person has done nothing to warrant you feeling like that, they have been nothing but polite and lovely”. So you pursue the relationship (deep down knowing they are not good for you!) and a year down the track you’re in a situation you hate, and the friendship falls apart, and you wonder again, why?

My work was just this, I felt it was not right, yet I pursued it. I put everything in, I worked until 7-8pm to try to ‘get ahead’. Logic kicked in, ‘you need the money’, ‘you need a career’, ‘what if you want babies one day, you will need a job to get the maternity payment’. Again, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!! It doesn’t matter how fucking much you try to logic your way out of it, if your feelings do not align, its like pushing shit up hill.

That my friends is called intuition.

Yet, we fail to listen over and over and over and over. Fuck me, I have not listened so many times I am surprised my intuition even works!

Journaling has become a saving grace for me. An out to express the inner workings of me. To wade through the bullshit that is logic, and get down to what actually matters, what FEELS GOOD.

When things feel good, that is your intuition saying, hey babe town, you are doing your thang and you’re doing it right.

And so, I sit, writing this knowing it feels good. At what end I do not know. All I do know, follow your gut, your inner GPS, it knows the way, even if you don’t recognise (like me) yet.

C xo