At 34-and-a-half, I appeared to have an enviable life. I was founder of a hot Sydney start-up, and I regularly appeared in the media and at business conferences, where I encouraged other women to strive for their goals. But on the inside, I was miserable. Because when I arrived home from work and looked at the four walls of my nice apartment, I was alone. I cooked alone, ate alone, watched TV alone and fell asleep clinging to a pillow.
All I wanted was love and a family of my own. But I hadn’t been on a date in 10 years following the tragic death of my first boyfriend in a car accident. The first years after the accident were filled with grief. But as I clocked into my 30s,…
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The Australian Women's Weekly (Digital) - 1 Issue, August 2021