“No, Richard*,” I pleaded. “Let’s wait till our wedding night.”

As Christians, Richard, 22, and I had agreed to abstain from sex until marriage, but recently he’d been trying it on.

I was terrified, but he insisted until he got his way.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated afterwards in tears. “I got carried away. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He explained he’d been abused as a child and he’d been seeing a counsellor to work through it.

He’ll grow out of it once we’re married, I told myself.

Truth was, I knew very little about the man I was marrying.

We’d met earlier that year when he came into the health food shop where 
I worked to buy supplements.

It was 1988, Richard was a member of the RAF, and I was just 18.

Once we got together, he bombarded me with professions of love.

My childhood 
had also been dysfunctional, so this overload of affection was disarming, and I chose 
to ignore parts of our relationship I didn’t like.

Six weeks in, Richard  proposed to me.

“Make sure you keep your ring sparkling,” he ordered me, “otherwise I’ll sell it.”

His controlling behaviour only worsened once we married. He’d tell me what to wear, what to eat and even make me explain how I’d cleaned myself in the shower. He also expected sex on demand.

“I’m the head of this house and you’ll put out whenever I want
 it!” he’d yell.

I desperately wanted freedom, but was too scared to escape.

Maybe having children will fix things, I prayed.

Our first child, Kylie*, arrived in 1992.

Richard soon became jealous the baby was taking my attention. “I’m starved of sex, Xenia,” he’d complain. “You’re withholding what’s rightfully mine!”

As Kylie grew, her strong-willed personality aggravated him.

Once, he was trying to teach her to count and when she couldn’t remember what came after five, he slapped her across the head.

“Richard! Don’t!” I cried.

“You don’t know how to parent properly,” he hissed.

Maybe he’s right, I thought. He’d diminished my self-confidence.

Over the next five years, we had three more children, but this didn’t quell Richard’s violence and I had no idea how to leave.

Occasionally, I contemplated ending my life, but I couldn’t risk the kids finding me.

Finally, in April 2005, Richard announced he wanted to separate.

“I know it’s not what you want, but it’s the only way,” he said.

Little did he know, my prayers had been answered!

“But I want to see the kids,” he clarified.

Although I didn’t like the children being alone with Richard, I reluctantly agreed for them to stay with him regularly.

Feeling lonely after we separated, I joined a Christian chat site and connected with a man named Simon, 39.

He was on the Gold Coast, a world away from my home in the UK, so I felt safe telling him my story.

During our phone calls, I found myself falling in love.

In August 2006, I visited Simon, and we soon decided to marry. When he came to live with us the following year, the kids warmed to him quickly, but his loving nature was foreign to me.

He’d bring me coffee in bed. “What’s this for?” I asked him.

“Because I love you,” he said, smiling.

After years of abuse, being respected was difficult to fathom.

I hoped our family was starting a new chapter but later that year, when Kylie was 14, she started acting erratically.

I suspected something was wrong.

I asked her if the 19-year-old boy she’d been hanging out with was touching her.

“You’re way off,” she laughed.

The kids stayed with Richard for the next few days. When they returned, Kylie asked to speak with me.

“You know how you asked if someone’s been touching me?” she said, trembling. “It’s Dad.”

Stunned, I hugged her tightly and we sobbed.

“I’m so sorry,” was all I could muster.

I didn’t want to know the details.

Even after all Richard had done to me, I never imagined he’d hurt one of our kids like this.

I felt sick, but needed to be strong.

Together, we told Simon.

“We need to go to the police,” he insisted.

Over the next six months, police conducted their investigation, revealing what Richard had done to my daughter.

I was heartbroken.

Richard went to trial in 2009 and was found guilty of 14 charges of sexual activity with a child.

“You are a selfish, sex-obsessed, dominating, arrogant and manipulative individual,” the judge declared.

Richard, 43, was sentenced to just nine years in jail.

I felt relieved it was over but it didn’t seem like justice.

At the kids’ request Simon officially adopted them, and in January 2010, we moved to the Gold Coast to start over.

Inspired by the story of Noah’s Ark, Simon and I built a place for families who were in similar storms to the one we’d weathered.

We started a charity called At the Ark aimed at preventing sexual abuse, and protecting victims.

I couldn’t protect my child, I thought, but now I’ll protect as many as I can.

I also published a series of children’s books called Brave Little Bear advising kids on how to protect themselves from predators.

In 2020, I received Heart of Women’s Woman of the Year award, and this year their Making a Difference group award for At the Ark.

All my kids have grown into well-rounded adults.

For a long time, I carried guilt about what Richard put us all through, but through the healing power of grace we are closer as a family than ever.

Looking back, I realise that before Richard’s abuse became physical, it had already started as subtle manipulations.

I share my story so other victims of abuse might identify these warning signs and see there’s always hope.

*Names have been changed.

For info, visit attheark.org.au

If you have been abused and need support, call 1800 737 732 (Aus) or 0800 456 450 (NZ)

The post “Too scared to escape” Evil husband abused me, and my child appeared first on Now To Love.

The 2600-capacity cruise ship is spacious, easy to navigate and never feels crowded, while the staterooms are decked out with luxe bed linen and bath products, so we feel extra special from day one.

With the balcony a nice extra, our stateroom is not much smaller than our bedroom at home, and we settle in with ease. Once unpacked, it’s time to visit the bar for ‘sail away’ drinks as we hit the harbour on the way from Canada into Alaska.

Our cruise takes us first along the Inside Passage – 
a route that takes the ship from Vancouver along the scenic coastline and up to Juneau. Here, we disembark and explore the Alaskan town, eating oysters at a food truck and shopping in the town’s many souvenir shops, before boarding a coach for our first excursion – whale watching! Our boat heads out to sea where 
we spot humpbacks as 
they dive under the water – an amazing sight!

Back on the ship, we explore the food options – settling for Lido, a food-court-style restaurant with an array of different cuisines available, before we head to the B13 Kings Blues club for some seriously good music.

Next we get to scenic Skagway – a gold rush area filled with saloons and trading posts and a narrow-gauge railway which connected the 
town to the Yukon. There’s lots to see here and we spend much of the day wandering the streets. Back on board, we try out one of the five non-included restaurants on the ship – and for a small charge at the Pinnacle Grill, we eat some truly amazing steaks.

While at sea for the day, as we head towards the spectacular Glacier Bay, we have a chance to really explore the ship. We book into the Greenhouse spa for treatments and I get a luxurious facial. We also do a wine workshop called Blend, where we make our own bottles of wine!

Glacier Bay National Park is a true highlight of the cruise. We sail into the scenic bay, surrounded by glaciers and mountains before the main attraction comes into view and the captain turns the ship around slowly so everyone can see the majestic Margerie Glacier. It’s awe-inspiring to see this huge ice flow and to watch seals swimming in the water alongside giant icebergs.

Another highlight? A scenic seaplane flight over the port of Ketchikan as we head to a salmon hatchery to try and spot bears. The flight takes us over beautiful bays and beaches where we watch eagles soar.

We find time to try the other special restaurants on board on our journey back to Vancouver. Rudi’s Sel de Mer is a seafood lover’s paradise; sushi at Nami is some of the best we’d ever eaten, while Canaletto serves tasty pasta. It’s said that everyone puts on kilos on a cruise, and we feel like our waistbands are tighter – but it’s worth it!

Another sea day at the end of the trip means we get to relax on our balcony – drinking a mimosa, 
reading then having one 
last dinner onboard.

As the scenery of the Inside Passage glides by once more, and we have to start thinking about repacking our bags, we vow we’ll do this again… Alaska and the Koningsdam have won our hearts!

Uncover the magic of a COSMOS tour with Flight Centre’s USA & Canada sale! Find out why New York is the city that never sleeps, explore the historic landmarks of Washington, and marvel at the majestic Niagara Falls. Don’t miss out on the adventure of a lifetime – book now & save!

Five tips for cruising in style

1. Do at least one of the organised excursions on offer – they’re worth it, even though they can seem pricey! You come away with knowledge you don’t get from simply getting off the ship for a look around.

2. Do get off the ship and look around, too. Each town you visit is bound to have something to interest you, from shopping to food to hidden treasures and experiences.

3. If you’re planning to have a few drinks, buy a drinks package or a preloaded beverage card – alcohol adds up and you will find this is the more economical option.

4. Opt in for unlimited laundry – it works out far cheaper than sending individual loads, and there is nothing nicer than coming back to your stateroom to a bunch of clean, pressed clothes! Take laundry sheets (we used Re.Stor, available at Woolworths) with you for handwashing delicates.

5. Go to a show or three! To be watching a blues band or a dance show on a ship makes the experience even more special.

The post Top tips for how to cruise through Alaska appeared first on Now To Love.

“Thanks, love,” I mumbled.

“Something on your mind, Mum?” she asked.

“I’ve been single for 13 years today,” I said, reflecting.

Amanda reached for my hand and squeezed it.

“I’m so proud of you for having the courage to leave Dad,” she said.

It had been a miserable marriage, where I’d been subject to brutal beatings and raped by my husband.

Finally, after 33 years, enough was enough and I went to the police.

He was sentenced to 17 years in jail, but ever since, my self-esteem had been in tatters. I’d been terrified of men and entering a new relationship.

Deep down, I really wanted someone loving to share my life with, though.

One day, I opened up to 
a girlfriend.

“I haven’t been with anyone sexually for 13 years,” I admitted.

“You should try an escort service,” she said.

She explained that after separating from her husband, she’d had several lovely dates with a male escort.

“It really helped my confidence,” she said.

I was intrigued.

“Maybe,” I said. “But it would be hard to fit it in with work and the kids.”

I had three beautiful daughters and seven grandchildren, and I also ran my business, We Care Professional Support, which offers round-the-clock care to those in palliative care and individuals with disabilities.

It had been nominated for 10 awards in the past two years, and recently I’d been invited to another fancy ceremony, this 
one in Sydney.

“It’s a bit embarrassing sitting on my own at these things when everyone else is with their partner,” I confessed to Amanda.

It got me thinking about the conversation I’d had with my friend.

What if I could pay someone to accompany me?

Sitting on the couch that night, I went online to the escort site my friend had suggested. It was expensive, but I had some money saved.

Flicking through the different escorts, Christian’s kind eyes got my attention.

Aged 30, he was 22 years younger than me, and gorgeous.

Offering a ‘boyfriend experience’, he promised 
four hours of love and companionship for $1000.

Four hours of romance? 
I didn’t think I’d ever experienced that.

I can’t believe I’m really doing this! I thought, pressing the ‘confirm’ button.

Christian and I talked for weeks before the event to make sure I was comfortable.

One evening, he sent me 
a photo in his suit.

What do you think of this bow tie, will it match your dress? he’d written.

I nearly fainted!

Amanda and I are so close I decided to tell my daughter about my plan.

“I’m not going to go to the event in Sydney alone after all…” I began. “I decided to book an escort!”

When I showed Amanda Christian’s photo, she burst out laughing.

“Oh my gosh, Mum! How old is he?” she giggled.

“Don’t worry, we’re not dating, it’s just a contract,” I reassured her. “I’m so excited, I bought a new dress and I’ve been working out. I already feel so much more confident.”

“I’m proud of you, Mama Bear,” she smiled. “I think this could be really good for you.”

But later, the nerves set in and I texted Christian.

I’m feeling really scared, my ex was abusive and I’m afraid to be alone with men, 
I admitted.

Can I call you? he replied.

He spent hours on the phone listening and reassuring me I’d be safe.

By the time I boarded 
the flight from Brisbane to Sydney three weeks later, all 
I felt was excitement.

Christian was at the hotel to meet me.

“Welcome to Sydney,” he said, hugging me and taking my bags.

Treating me like a princess from the minute I arrived, he escorted me to my room to get ready.

And when my sequinned dress was too big from 
all the exercise I’d been doing, Christian found a sewing kit and took it in.

“How did you learn how 
to treat a woman so well?” 
I asked, choked up.

“I learned from all the wonderful women in my life,” he admitted.

Christian was the perfect gentleman all night. He opened doors, pulled out seats for me, held my hand, and was a beautiful dinner companion with dazzling conversation.

I’m shy, but he effortlessly brought me into the conversation with other people at our table.

When I was announced runner-up, I didn’t mind.

“You’re already a winner,” Christian said. And I felt it, for the huge steps I’d taken to be here.

Back at the hotel, he walked me to my room.

“Can you undo my zipper?” I asked nervously.

“Of course,” he said, following me in.

We flirted and laughed together, but I wasn’t ready for it to go any further.

“You’ve restored my faith in men,” I told him.

“I’m sorry anyone ever treated you the way you’ve been treated,” he said, pulling me in for a hug with tears in his eyes.

Christian was with me for more than double the time I paid for, plus weeks of calling and texting, and he wouldn’t accept an extra cent.

“How was it?” Amanda asked eagerly when 
I got home.

“It helped me realise the problem was never me,” I said. “Christian showed me how a woman should be treated.”

The experience proved there are good men out there and my past experiences don’t dictate my worth. 
I want other women to 
know this too.

I’m now open to dating. I won’t be rushing to use the apps, but I’d like to meet someone organically.

I’ve already texted Christian for my next awards night in Sydney in April.

I know the option is there if I’d like to take it further and be intimate.

I don’t know how it will go, but I know I’ll feel safe and respected whatever happens.

The post After years of abuse, I hired an escort… and something remarkable happened appeared first on Now To Love.

“You go into survival mode,” Holly tells Woman’s Day. “The things I saw, I couldn’t believe. You’d look into [other prisoners’] eyes and there was nothing there any more. That was scary as that could be you someday.”

Holly, now 52, was arrested in 2000 after being caught with 30 grams of heroin and spent seven years at Lard Yao Women’s Correctional Institution in Chatuchak, Thailand.

After growing up in a violent household where drugs were always around, Holly’s own addiction began when she was just 15 after being given heroin by her mother. “I wish I’d never tried [it] because that was the beginning of the end for me,” she says.

SURVIVAL MODE

Charged with drug trafficking and possession alongside her friend and fellow drug smuggler Bob Halliwell, Holly ended up being the longest incarcerated Australian prisoner returned from Asia.

Nicole Kidman’s famous 1989 miniseries Bangkok Hilton showed the grim conditions inside the prison, but Holly says the reality was even worse.

“It was sweltering in that cell with everyone’s bodies pressed against each other,” she says, describing the experience of living alongside 2000 inmates with no food, personal space or medical care.

“Every day you were fighting for everything. If you didn’t get to the shower in time, there was no water left. [It was the same with] food, toilet paper, bottled water. A lot of people were thieves – not because they wanted to, but they had to.”

The moment she watched a pregnant inmate rummaging through a rubbish bin for food still haunts Holly.

“I had a visit that day and received a punnet of strawberries. Most of them were rotten so I threw them away. But I watched her get them out,” she says. “I told her not to eat them and gave her something [else] to eat. You’d see that daily.”

Holly, who also served time in Australia on drug charges, admits she spent her first few months in Lard Yao abusing drugs to cope. But 10 months into her sentence, she stopped and has been clean ever since.

“I woke up and looked at my surroundings and that flicked a switch for me. I thought, ‘What am I doing? I’ve ruined my life,’” she says. “I knew I was done.”

KIND STRANGERS

Frustrated at not being able to understand the language, Holly began studying Thai and learned to sew and made silk flowers and clothes. She also became friends with Thai inmates and “foreigners” like herself and is still in contact with many of them.

Everything at the prison had to be bought by the inmates. Visits from her brother Mark and late sister Amy were also a huge support for Holly and they would bring her food and other supplies, while visiting Aussie tourists would also help.

“The visits I loved were the genuine people who came just because they knew I was there,” she says. “It made my day because you’re getting news of what’s going on outside – we didn’t know 9/11 had happened until two weeks later.”

In late 2007, Holly’s prison transfer request was accepted, and she was moved to Bandyup Women’s Prison in Perth, where she served another five years. After spending 12 years behind bars, on December 6, 2012, Holly was finally free.

RELEASE & RECOVERY

Holly has spent the years since then writing about her horrific prison experience, her recovery and desire to return to Thailand. After she was freed, Holly also reunited with the “love of her life” Stephen Wallace, who sadly passed away in 2023 from cancer.

“I thought that being in a Thai prison was the worst thing to happen to me, but it didn’t compare to living each day with the knowledge that my time with Stephen was running out,” she writes in Holly’s Hell.

Now trained in youth work and counselling, Holly wants to help others overcome their addictions and warns of the dangers. “I used to think I didn’t have many regrets. But I suppose I do,” she says. “I’ve spent about half my life in jail because of that drug. I can’t get back the years I wasted inside prisons.”

Holly’s book Holly’s Hell – Seven Years in a Thai Prison is available to purchase from Booktopia. You can buy it for $27.95 here.

The post EXCLUSIVE: After spending half her life in prison, Holly Deane-Johns is ready to talk appeared first on Now To Love.

“We’ve got no milk,” I sighed.

It was 1975 and as a farmer’s wife, it was my job to make sure the workmen had a tasty treat for afternoon tea.

Living in the country town of Beverley, two hours inland from Perth, simply popping to the shops wasn’t an option. 

Growing up, my family lived on a remote farm, too, so improvising while making a recipe was second nature.

Scanning the pantry for a milk supplement, I stumbled across a tin of condensed tomato soup.

This’ll do, I thought, pouring it in and hoping for the best.

An hour later, I pulled the loaf out of the oven and was pleased to see it looked okay, but the proof would be in the pudding.

Serving it up, I waited with baited breath as the workmen took their first bites.

“This is delicious,” they finally said, flooding me with relief.

“What’s in it?” one asked me.

“Tomato soup,” I replied.

The surprised look on their faces made me chuckle.

“Incredible,” they beamed.

It went down so well, I started baking the cake a few times a year.

It was a firm favourite among my three kids, Angie, 47, Cathryn, 45, and Steven, 41, and still is now.

Then recently, after years of living on my own I moved, with my Maltese-Shitzu, Chelsea, to the Serenitas’ Tuart Lakes over-50s lifestyle village in Baldivis, south of Perth.

There’s a wonderful community with many morning teas and sporting events.

I’ve baked all sorts of cakes for morning tea, including my tomato soup cake.

Then one day a staff member at the community asked if I was interested in submitting a recipe to the annual Mother’s Day Sweet Moments Cookbook.

Each year, it’s gifted to all of the residents in the community.

“Of course,” I beamed, knowing exactly which recipe to submit.

This May, seeing my Mystery cake recipe in print was a real treat.

And the residents loved it!

I hope by sharing my recipe, I can inspire others to get creative in the kitchen – you may just create a masterpiece! 

Robyn’s Mystery Cake recipe

PREP TIME: 20 mins COOK TIME: 45 mins

2 cups self-raising flour

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp ground nutmeg

1/2 tsp ground cloves

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

60g butter, softened

1/2 cup caster sugar

320g can condensed tomato soup*

1 cup chopped walnuts

1 cup raisins or sultanas

Method:

1 Preheat the oven to 180°C and line a loaf tin with baking paper.

2 Sift the self-raising flour and add salt, cinnamon, ground nutmeg, ground cloves and bicarbonate of soda into a mixing bowl.

3 In a separate mixing bowl, cream the butter and caster sugar until light and fluffy.

4 Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture alternating with the condensed tomato soup, stirring until the mixture is smooth. Fold in the chopped walnuts and raisins or sultanas.

5 Pour the mixture into the prepared loaf tin and bake in the preheated oven for 45 minutes.

6 Allow the cake to cool in the tin for 10 minutes before transferring it to a wire rack to cool completely.

7 Serve the loaf with butter or a dollop of double cream. *Note: if you can’t find a 320g tin soup, use a 420g tin and serve remaining soup mixed with a little boiled water in mugs alongside the loaf.

The post My shocking secret ingredient that will make your cake taste better! appeared first on Now To Love.

The heartbreaking milestones never stop for Rosie, and this February marked a decade since Luke’s death at 11 years old from a horrendous act of violence by his father.

“For two or three weeks [in the lead-up], I felt sad and antisocial and I gave myself permission to be like that and to know that unhappiness will sit on my shoulders for a bit but that I’ll come good again,” Rosie tells Woman’s Day.

FIERCE ADVOCATE

It’s a way of being Rosie, 62, has learned to live with over the past decade. But for a woman who has become a fierce advocate against domestic violence, earning accolades and respect from
all over the world, it’s by no means all she’s mastered.

“When you see someone on the news whose life has been changed and you think, ‘I can’t imagine surviving through that and ever enjoying life again,’ it’s important to see that, as much as there is struggle and pain, people do go on and can succeed on levels you can’t imagine,” she says.

This is also the reason Rosie has penned her second book, Hope, which tells her story and that of other family violence victims and survivors. “For anyone feeling like life is hopeless and there’s no end to the pain and loss, it helps to see others have got through it,” she says.

Since Luke’s shocking murder, after practice at his local Tyabb cricket club in Victoria, Rosie started a nationwide conversation that led to Victoria launching a Royal Commission into family violence in 2015.

“We have very confronting statistics in Australia. It’s a social problem on a significant scale and we’re still a long way from recognising that,” she says. “Men need to stop murdering women.”

Rosie’s advocacy snowballed in the year after her son’s death as she gave hundreds of speeches and interviews raising public awareness and pushing for change. In 2015, she was named Australian of the Year.

“Immersing myself was the distraction that helped me through those early years,” Rosie explains. “I felt I had to maximise the opportunity, especially when I was Australian of the Year. I wanted to create a momentum that couldn’t be stopped.”

Years on, Rosie can see she was walking a fine line and wasn’t coping as well as she projected. “I’d overreact to things that should have just been irritating and then I’d be full of self-loathing,” she says.
“I was conflicted about the pedestal people put me on.

I was still human and in pain and not as perfect as people believed.”

Amid her advocacy and work, for the past 10 years, Luke has of course always been in Rosie’s thoughts.

“I often wonder what he’d be like now,” she goes on. “Maybe a builder, entrepreneurial, I think. I still see his friends around sometimes but it’s hard to see them as young men and women, marrying, having children themselves. Luke was such a little boy [when he died] and his friends have so quickly grown up.”

“Next year will be 11 years. I only had him 11 years and that will be a significant realisation.”

SOUL-SEARCHING

With the closing of the Luke Batty Foundation in 2018 and time spent alone during the pandemic lockdowns, Rosie was ready and able to go through boxes of photos, cards and Luke’s schoolwork.

“It hurt,” she says. “I felt alone and did a lot of soul-searching but ultimately COVID was a circuit breaker for me.”

As for what she will do next, Rosie isn’t certain.

“I’m mindful of the fact I’m approaching retirement and I need to be thoughtful of the next stage of my life,” she says.

But wherever she goes, people still share how her and Luke’s story inspired them to get out of dangerous relationships. “I was so proud to be helping,” says Rosie. “Even as a young person, Luke stuck up for things that weren’t right, so inevitably, he’d be proud of me too.”

Hope by Rosie Batty is out April 3 (Booktopia, $26.25).

The post Ten years after her son’s death, Rosie Batty is still helping others appeared first on Now To Love.

Ever since she was little, she’d wanted to help others – and had quickly learned sharing her aptitude for maths was the way she could do that.

Her friends described her as “energetic” and “compassionate” in her quest to teach in a school. She graduated from teaching college in 2011, then completed a masters the following year.

By 2013, when she was 24 years old, Colleen had landed a position teaching ninth-grade algebra at Danvers High School, where she was adored by her students and colleagues.

“You couldn’t have asked for more from a teacher or from a friend,” one said.

Outside of school, she loved her family, posting games and quizzes for her students on Twitter, and listening to Taylor Swift.

On October 22, 2013, Colleen was at work as usual.

Her teaching day finished at 2pm, but she stayed back to help students with extra tutoring and after school activities.

That day, 14-year-old Philip Chism was one of the students who’d stayed behind after class.

Philip was new at the school, having moved from another state a year earlier after his parents’ tumultuous split and subsequent divorce.

While he’d joined the soccer team, he was otherwise known to be quiet and distant.

That night, Colleen’s parents, Peggie and Tom, became worried when their daughter didn’t come home for dinner, which she usually ate with them every evening.

They tried calling her phone, but she didn’t answer.

It was completely out of character.

Tom went to the school to look for his daughter and noticed her car was still in the parking lot, so he went inside the building to check on her.

But she wasn’t in her classroom and none of the other teachers had seen her that afternoon.

Worried, Tom reported his daughter missing. Then, at 9pm that night, the principal of the school sent an email around to say that a student was also missing.

That student was Philip Chism.

Once police made the connection that Philip had stayed back for tutoring with Colleen, they began looking for them both, thinking they may have run off together.

It was far worse than they ever could have imagined.

On a footpath close to the school, they found Colleen’s empty handbag.

Later that night, police found Philip Chism walking along a highway, his hands covered in blood.

When they frisked him, they discovered he was carrying Colleen’s driver’s licence and credit card.

Chism lied, saying he’d broken into Colleen’s car and stolen the items.

He was taken to the police station where his backpack was searched. Inside, police found Colleen’s underwear, a black hoodie and a box cutter knife stained with blood.

When asked whose blood it was, Chism replied: “It’s the girl’s. She’s buried in the woods.”

At 3am, upon following Chism’s directions, they found Colleen’s half-naked body covered with leaves. She’d been raped, her throat had been slit and she’d been stabbed at least 16 times.

There was a handwritten note beside her body that read: I hate you all.

Chism was charged with the murder, aggravated rape and armed robbery of Colleen Ritzer.

He was tried as an adult in December 2015 and pleaded not guilty. Chism admitted killing Colleen, but said he was suffering mental illness at the time.

At his trial, it was revealed that Colleen had ‘triggered’ Chism by talking about his move from his former hometown.

CCTV footage revealed Colleen leaving her classroom at 2.54pm that day and heading into the women’s bathroom. The video showed Chism following her, slipping on gloves and covering his face with a hoodie.

He followed her into the bathroom where he raped and stabbed her.

Further footage showed him exiting the bathroom, changing his jacket, before returning with a large recycling bin.

A camera picked him up wheeling the bin – with Colleen’s body inside – down the footpath outside the school while wearing a ski mask.

The court heard that after dumping Colleen’s body, he took her credit card and used it to buy a ticket to a Woody Allen film.

The jury didn’t accept Chism’s mental illness defence, instead finding him guilty on all charges.

Ahead of the sentencing, prosecutor Kate MacDougall asked for a life sentence for Chism, saying: “These are crimes that make one’s soul ache.”

Philip Chism, 16, was sentenced to life, with a minimum of 40 years in prison. He showed no emotion as the sentence was read out.

Superior Court Judge David Lowy said: “The crashing waves of this tragedy will never wane.”

Colleen’s family read emotional impact statements. Her dad, Tom, felt he had failed his daughter.

“I didn’t protect Colleen,” he said. “A dad’s job is to fix things. I would do anything if I could fix this for Colleen.”

Her mum Peggie said her daughter’s death had left her “so very broken”.

“Now, I isolate myself from people I love because pretending to be happy is so difficult,” she said.

Of her daughter’s killer, she said: “He is pure evil and can never be rehabilitated.”

Diana Chism, Philip’s mum said: “Words can’t express the amount of pain and sorrow these past two and a half years have been.

However, there is no-one who has suffered more than the Ritzer family.

My utmost esteem, prayers, and humble respect is with them today as they continue their journey to heal.”

The post Beloved teacher, 24, murdered by her teen student appeared first on Now To Love.

Police have alleged Jesse Baird, 26, and his partner Luke Davies, 29, were killed at a home in Sydney’s Inner East on February 19 by NSW Police officer Beau Lamarre-Condon. Their bodies were discovered on a property 185km away in Bungonia, near Goulburn.

The families travelled to Sydney last week as police launched a widespread search for the men’s bodies. The findings came after Lamarre-Condon, currently in custody in Silverwater jail, reportedly told police where they were located.

COMMUNITY IN MOURNING

Family and friends paid tribute last week, with Luke’s friend Jessica Vaux telling Woman’s Day how he was “sunshine”.

“He was the most thoughtful, caring, loving human being,” she said. “Living his absolute best life and bringing sunshine to everyone he met. He will forever hold a special spot in my heart and I will cherish all of our memories for the rest of my life. [He was] so dearly loved and will be so dearly missed.”

TV presenter Jesse was, a relative said, “loved by everybody”.

“Jesse, my first ever best friend, I am beyond devastated. I still can’t believe it,” Jesse’s cousin Austin Baird said. “You were one in a million, you cared about everyone and left such an impact on every person you met! I’ll love and remember you forever, mate. It is an honour to be your cousin.”

The tight-knit community of Diamond Creek in Melbourne’s north-east, where Jesse grew up, said he was a passionate footballer for the Diamond Creek Football & Netball Club for more than eight years.

“Jesse was talented, fearless and always put the team first in everything he did,” the club said. “His always smiling face and vibrant personality, along with his unerring politeness and respect to all around him at all times making him greatly loved by [all]. To us Jesse’s memory will always shine bright, for to us Jesse was as they often described him in TV land – an absolute star.”

Jesse had switched careers and started a much-loved new job as an AFL umpire. At the beginning of their relationship, Jesse and Luke shared keen interests in travel and the beach, with the Qantas flight attendant said to have loved being able to travel the world with his job.

At the time of going to press, a GoFundMe launched by Jessica has reached more than $68,000 to help his family “give him the send-off he deserves”.

TRAGIC LOSS

A desperate search was carried out for the couple on February 21 after their bloodied belongings were found in a bin in Cronulla, 30km away from Jesse’s home in Paddington. NSW Police allege Lamarre-Condon, 28, shot the couple with his police-issued firearm at Jesse’s home on February 19. Police allege Lamarre-Condon, who was attached to youth command, signed the gun back in at Balmain police station the next day.

Police also allege he then travelled with a female friend to a rural property in the NSW Southern Tablelands. This is the location where it’s thought he first disposed of the bodies before returning to Sydney. It’s alleged he then travelled back to Bungonia on February 22 and moved the bodies to another location, where they were discovered. The former celebrity blogger surrendered to police on February 23.

It was previously reported Jesse and the officer had been in a relationship, however Jesse’s friends have since strongly downplayed that connection.

Lamarre-Condon was charged with two counts of murder and refused bail. The case is adjourned to April 23.

The post Friends, relatives and an entire community pay tribute to Jesse Baird & Luke Davies appeared first on Now To Love.

For 64 years, the Adelaide Fringe Festival has spotlighted tens of thousands of talented dancers, singers, comedians, artists, and more; from already-established industry icons to emerging talent – many of whom get their start on the Adelaide Fringe Festival stages.

But with so many shows and experiences to choose from, it can be hard to decide how to spend your time. Especially if you are visiting Adelaide for the occasion and don’t have the time to spare.

Below, we’ve listed our must-attend events at the Adelaide Fringe Festival for 2024, scroll on for more…

Star Dreaming: Full Dome Experience

Learn about the beginnings of time and space and the life cycle of stars through the eyes of two children in Star Dreaming in its premiere at the Adelaide Fringe Festival.

From the arid heartland of Western Australia to the remote site of the Square Kilometre Array radio telescope to taking a trip back in time to the ancient land of the Yamaji people, discover how much the scientific world and the ancient world have in common in this immersive, and thought-provoking experience the whole family is sure to enjoy.

Tickets are between $8 and $12.

For more information and to purchase your tickets click here.

Maho Magic Bar

In this interactive drinking experience, you’ll be treated to a night of mischief, amazement, cocktails, and laughter straight from the streets of Tokyo.

With fresh tricksters, fresh tricks, and even fresher cocktails as you indulge in a drink or two, you’ll be treated to a magical experience as an all-new crew of Japanese magicians and illusionists descend upon your table and quite literally blow your mind!

Tickets are between $62 and $82.

For more information and to purchase your tickets click here.

Limbo – The Return

Prepare yourself to be thrilled in this circus spectacle of other worldly proportions.

Wowing audiences across the globe with a jaw-dropping mix of cabaret, circus, acrobatics heart-pounding live music, LIMBO – The Return is sure to leave you on the edge of your seat in its highly anticipated return down under.

Tickets are between $60 and $85.

For more information and to purchase your tickets click here.

Sleep’s Hill Tunnel

In an Australian premiere, visitors will be treated to an exclusive look inside Adelaide’s Sleep’s Hill Tunnel which has been transformed from old railway tracks to an immersive art experience that features light and projection work, as well as unique time-lapse footage from renowned creative minds.

Tickets are between $18 and $25. This activity contains flashing lights which may not be suitable for people with photosensitive epilepsy or sensory sensitivities.

For more information and to purchase your tickets click here.

Lloyd Langford – Blunt

You’ve seen Welsh comedian Lloyd Langford grace Aussie screens through his hilarious appearances on the likes of Have You Been Paying Attention? Thank God You’re Here, Spicks & Specks and Would I Lie to You? And now the 40-year-old is stepping out at the Adelaide Fringe Festival with his brand new show Blunt.

Expect the unexpected, but know from the moment you sit down you’ll be in the firing line because Lloyd is far more comfortable in his own skin, and a bit more critical about everyone elses.

Tickets are between $29 to $39.

For more information and to purchase your tickets click here.

Hans: Disco Spektakulär

Hans really needs no introduction!

After taking his award-winning cabaret show Disco Spektakulär across the globe, he’s finally returned to Australia for a string of performances as part of the Adelaide Fringe Festival.

Whether you are in the mood for some dancing, some singing, or just some hearty laughs, Hans will get the party started in no time, with plenty of glitter to help spread the good-time disco spirits.

Tickets are between $48 and $85.

For more information and to purchase your tickets click here.

Natural Wonders

In this extraordinary immersive experience held at the Adelaide Botanic Gardens, you’ll be taken on a journey through a series of projected and immersive artworks. Bringing together art, light, and music for all to enjoy, this unique activity takes place under the stars and brings to life diverse natural ecosystems in a carefully curated, and wholly innovative way.

Tickets are between $18 and $35. This event is not fully accessible due to route length and terrain.

For more information and to purchase your tickets click here.

Broken at MOD

If you are looking for an activity that’s slower in pace, we recommend heading along to Broken, an interactive exhibition at Australia’s leading future-focused museum MOD.

Get a feel for the future and the many alternate stories that may unfold if the chips fall a certain way.

Intrigued? Drop in and work out ways to improve the biggest issues society is facing, with the overarching message that being ‘broken’ is not inevitable, unavoidable, or permanent and things can change for the better if you only have hope and a little vision.

This exhibition is free to attend.

For more information click here.

The post The 8 best things to do at the Adelaide Fringe Festival appeared first on Now To Love.

Drink to her success

Chrissy found The Lady Shake incredibly easy to incorporate into her life. “Being as simple as replacing two meals, it was super easy to just have a shake for breakfast and a shake for lunch,” she explains. “I also made sure I had my two snacks (each approximately 150 calories and under 5 grams of sugar) and a healthy balanced evening meal.”

One of the things that impressed Chrissy was just how effortless it all was. “The Lady Shake is incredibly easy to use.” she says. “Just mix two scoops and water! Having a shake for breakfast and lunch saved me time in the morning because The Lady Shake takes the guesswork out of your day. It takes less than a minute to make breakfast and lunch.”

And for dinner? “My evening meal was anything from cauliflower fried rice and steamed dumplings, zucchini noodles and freshly made tomato sauce, lean grilled chicken or steak with salad, scrambled eggs and mushrooms on toast. I had my treat meal once a week, which was anything I felt like, from pasta, lasagne or burgers.”

It sounds so simple, but Chrissy saw remarkable results straightaway. “I lost 1.4kg in my first week,” she reveals. “I couldn’t believe the number staring back at me from the scales. This quickly became motivation for me to keep going. I had weeks with no losses or even a small gain, but weight loss isn’t linear. Consistency was key for my journey and, sure enough, my weight would drop the following week.”

Chrissy’s advice is to start now – “Start today, don’t wait for Monday or a new month or after a holiday or event, start now! This is a lifestyle change with new habits that will set you up for long-term success.”

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Moving on up! 

To build on her success, Chrissy, who was already active, added extra workouts into her day.

“I started walking a lot,” she explains. “Just around our neighbourhood. I also used an online workout app to do light weights, spin, yoga and combat classes. I also do Physical Culture.” Now Chrissy does weights two to three times per week, as well as cardio classes such as Spin and Combat or she walks two to three times per week as well as Physical Culture twice a week. 

Chrissy’s advice is to not make exercise so complicated that it’s hard to fit into your lifestyle. “Start off with small goals; walking for 20 minutes and increasing five minutes each time you head out. You don’t need fancy equipment, you’d be surprised what you can achieve with some hand weights and a yoga mat!”

Pretty soon you’ll be looking forward to those workouts. “Exercise is vital to my mental health,” says Chrissy. “It also has helped with muscle building and toning. I am a strong advocate of women of all ages to do resistance training.”

Mastering Mindfulness 

Diet, exercise and mindfulness is the trio for success. So how did Chrissy keep her motivation and look after her wellbeing during this time? 

“I set small attainable goals and rewarded myself at each milestone so the overall goal wasn’t overwhelming,” says Chrissy. “I also enjoyed my treat meal each week, guilt free.”

“The sense of accomplishment is so rewarding and I feel it every single day. I jump out of bed now, instead of stumble. Knowing how much good I have done and continue to do for my health makes me look forward to the future. Now, working out is my ‘me time’. I zone out and concentrate on moving my body, clearing my thoughts and enjoying the moment.”

How is Chrissy maintaining her healthy and fabulous new figure? With The Lady Shake, of course. “I’m maintaining my loss with one shake per day, usually breakfast,” she says. “I have also kept my new healthy eating habits and not slipped back into my old ways.”

The post Shake it off: How Chrissy lost 29kg appeared first on Now To Love.

In a scene eerily similar to his wife Melissa Caddick’s suspected final hours, he was spotted walking past the nearby cliffsides before relaxing in a local pool.

In a further twist, Anthony appeared to wear the same Asics shoe that made national headlines when Melissa’s severed foot washed up on a beach, 400 kilometres away from the $9.8 million home they shared in Dover Heights.

He remains a devoted stepfather to Melissa’s teenage son, with the pair now living in a small two-bedroom apartment in Vaucluse, just two kilometres away from where Melissa vanished in November 2020 after her $23 million Ponzi scheme was discovered by authorities. She was declared dead by a coronial inquest in May 2023.

LEGAL DEBTS

It’s been a rough three months for the hairdresser, after he abandoned his multimillion-dollar claim on his wife’s estate and is reportedly facing “considerable legal costs”.

In November, a Federal Court judge also ordered receivers to seize millions of dollars in items that were purchased by Melissa.

Anthony, who is in his early 40s, previously claimed he was entitled to a large portion of Melissa’s proceeds of crime, including $7 million in shares, $2 million worth of jewellery, artworks and two properties, which he claimed were valued at $20 million.

He’s previously voiced his frustration at the “toyboy” headlines, which claimed he had benefited from Melissa’s funds – something he has always furiously denied.

“I’ve always paid for myself,” he told 7News Spotlight. “It’s not like I was a desperate Double Bay housewife living off my wife, which is what everyone else thinks. Why wouldn’t I be entitled to something?”

Anthony says it’s an “honour” to continue looking after his stepson, who recently graduated from Year 12.

“I’ve tried to shelter him as much as I can from everything,” he said. “He told me he just wanted his life to stay the same, and that’s what I’ve done for him.”

LOOKING FORWARD

It’s been a gruelling three years of court cases, heartache and upheaval for the pair, but as the courts wrap up their investigation into Melissa’s estate, a new chapter could be just what the doctor ordered.

“It’s a fresh start and no one can take this away from us now,” Anthony said. “I think I’ve paid the ultimate price.”

The post Three years after the disappearance of Melissa Caddick, her husband Anthony Koletti is leading a humble life appeared first on Now To Love.

Lesley Maxwell, 66, from Melbourne, Vic, shares her story with Take 5…

Lying in my hospital bed, I was flicking through the channels when I suddenly paused, seeing muscular women in bikinis and high heels strutting on my screen.

Wow, I thought in amazement. They were competing in a body sculpting competition and looked incredible. I longed to be fit and healthy like them.

It was 2004, and I’d been hospitalised with pneumonia and asthma, giving me the kick up the bum I needed to adopt a more healthy lifestyle. Though I’d never been overweight, since the age of 18, I had often fluctuated in size.

I didn’t know how exercise correctly and found it hard to stick to diets, particularly when my three kids – Vanessa, 22, Anthony, 18, and Damien,16, were younger.

But now at 49, it was time for change.

The day after I left the hospital, I joined the gym with one goal: to look like the women I’d seen on TV.

The show had been about a local trainer, so I sought him out and asked him to train me.

“It’s not going to be easy,” he said.

And he was right! The gym was up two flights of stairs, and the first sessions were so hard I could barely walk back down the stairs afterwards.

I worked out for several hours, four days a week, slowly building my strength.

After six months of training, my coach felt I was ready to compete, so I entered my first competition – Masters over 40.

Stood on the stage, my heart nearly leapt from my chest when they announced my name as the winner.

“I can’t believe it,” I said, stunned.

Over the next 14 years, I won 35 titles in sculpting competitions worldwide.

During this time, I decided to use my experience to help other women over 40 achieve their fitness goals.

I signed up to courses online and qualified as a personal trainer.

Slowly, I started to build up clients. Some have different health issues, such as sarcopenia and osteoporosis, others just want to feel good in their clothes.
I build exercise programs to suit each person’s needs.

Slowly, I started to build up clients. Some have different health issues, such as sarcopenia and osteoporosis, others just want to feel good in their clothes.

I build exercise programs to suit each person’s needs.

Recently, one of my younger clients broke down while we were training.

“I’ve been diagnosed with osteopenia Les,” she told me through tears.

I was positive and encouraging.

“Let’s catch it in its tracks,” I said. “We’ll do weights for at least two hours a week, and it will keep you strong.”

As we age, our health deteriorates.

Women often suffer from bone density issues like osteoporosis and muscle mass weakness after menopause, but this can be avoided with the proper training and diet.

I’ve recently written a book called My Easy Clean Eating Guidelines to help people eat the right food while they train.

Many older women have never been in the gym or picked up a weight.

My advice is to get started as soon as you can and not leave it too late. There are loads of programs online to follow.

I have some on my website www.lesleymaxwell.fitness.

If you don’t want to do it alone, try a beginner’s session with a personal trainer or go with a family member or friend.

There are four lifts that women should learn if they want to avoid health issues – squat, lunge, push and pull.

Teamed with the right diet, they’ll stay healthy and strong longer. It’s never too late to make changes.

The post Weight-lifting has made me ageless appeared first on Now To Love.

Her reign of terror over 20 years in Colombia, New York and Miami left an estimated 200 people dead at her hands, including her three husbands and many of the men who helped her build a $3 billion drug empire.

At one point, she was making more than $100 million a month smuggling and selling cocaine, and she was even rumoured to strike fear into the hearts of some of the most evil men in the world, including notorious Colombian drug kingpin Pablo Escobar – who reputedly killed 4000 people!

“The only man I was ever afraid of was a woman named Griselda Blanco,” Pablo once admitted.

Power & Precision

She was born into poverty in Colombia in 1943 and proved at a tender age that she was willing to do anything to escape her lot by kidnapping and attempting to ransom a child from a wealthy family.

When they refused to pay, 11-year-old Griselda shot the boy dead.

Ten years later, she had illegally immigrated to New York with her second husband Alberto Bravo – after divorcing her first husband Carlos Trujillo, who she later executed over a business disagreement – and her three sons, Osvaldo, Uber and Dixon, from her first marriage.

She and Alberto sold marijuana, but soon turned to an even bigger illegal money spinner, importing and selling cocaine.

They used the proceeds from their marijuana business to set up a lingerie company, but it wasn’t bras and undies that made them rich.

Griselda used the lingerie company as a front to import kilos of cocaine, cunningly hidden in secret pouches in the bras she designed.

When she was indicted on federal drug charges in 1975, she and Alberto fled back to Colombia.

Just a few years later, she was back in the US, minus husband number two – who she shot in the head after accusing him of fleecing millions from their drug operation.

Her third marriage, to Dario Sepulveda, would also prove to be a fatal union.

By this time, she had built her empire into one of the biggest cocaine smuggling and distribution criminal organisations in the world, ruthlessly killing anyone who stood in her way.

She ordered the murders of 200 people, both rivals and some members of her own organisation.

The ease with which she ordered executions saw her become one of the most feared women in the world.

Family Consequences

Dario would not escape her evil clutches, and he became the third and final husband she had killed when he left her in 1983 and took their son, Michael Corleone Blanco, who was named after Al Pacino’s character in the three Godfather movies, back to Colombia.

Griselda paid to have him executed and then brought Michael back to the US, where he has the sad distinction of being the only one out of her four sons to still be alive after the three others were killed.

Michael’s reunion with his mother was to be short-lived, with Griselda arrested in 1985 and charged with conspiring to manufacture, import and distribute cocaine.

She was found guilty and sentenced to 15 years in prison, and later pleaded guilty to three counts of second-degree murder.

Hollywood Lawsuit

Michael was recently back in the spotlight after attempting to sue Netflix over the new TV series based on his mother’s life and crimes.

The family also launched a lawsuit against its lead star, Sofia Vergara, with both parties facing allegations over the unauthorised use of the family’s image and likeness.

After production refused the family’s offer to consult on the project, Michael slammed Sofia as “disrespectful” and “offensive”.

“All I have to say is that if my mother was alive, she wouldn’t have got away with it,” the marijuana salesman added.

“It’s such a slap in the face knowing that we come from the same land, that we come from the same culture.”

In response to the lawsuit, Griselda creator Eric Newman told Entertainment Tonight, “It’s not my first rodeo. The Escobar family made similar claims [for the TV series Narcos].

“We had a very specific story we wanted to tell. I believe we told it, and I don’t think it in any way prevents someone else from telling their own version of it.”

Griselda, who was also known as the “Black Widow” for killing her husbands, was released on compassionate grounds in 2004 after suffering a heart attack in prison and deported back to Colombia.

She lived for another eight years – before she was shot and killed by an assassin on a motorcycle, aged 69, outside a butcher’s shop in Medellin.

The post REAL LIFE: The ‘Godmother of the underworld’ Griselda Blanco appeared first on Now To Love.

Still regarded as Australia’s most heinous serial killings, South Australia’s Snowtown killings, also known as the “bodies-in-the-barrels” murders has left a harrowing legacy of pain and trauma.

Now, 25 years on, one man involved, 65-year-old Mark Ray Haydon, could be freed from jail in a matter of months, with no restrictions or supervision.

“He has completed the sentence the court has imposed,” says presiding member of the Parole Board Frances Nelson KC. “His head sentence expires in a few weeks, so of course he will be released.”

Haydon was never found guilty of any of the 11 murders, which were given the infamous label due to the eight dismembered bodies found in barrels of acid in a disused bank vault in Snowtown, a small town 150 kilometres north of Adelaide.

John Justin Bunting, Robert Joe Wagner and James Spyridon Vlassakis were named as the murderers, while Haydon was convicted of helping cover up the deaths of seven victims.

Between 1992 and 1999, the group went on a vicious murder spree, with almost all of the victims closely related to them as partners, family or friends.

Initially, it was thought their motive was to receive the victims’ Centrelink benefits, but it seemed Bunting was dealing out punishment to those he accused of being paedophiles, homosexuals or “weak”.

Haydon’s part began in August 1998, when, unbeknown to him, six people had already been murdered.

Bunting, who was dating Haydon’s wife’s sister, asked Haydon to help scare Troy Youde, 21.

The gang claimed Troy had sexually abused Vlassakis, and at first Haydon joined in on the “scare”.

When it got violent, he fled to another room, but he then helped clean up and carry Troy’s body to the back shed.

The judge accepted it was the only murder Haydon was present for but after it he agreed to store the body of another of the gang’s murder victims, 17-year-old Fred Brooks, in his shed. Then, barrels containing other bodies arrived at his home.

In November 1998, Bunting and Wagner turned on Haydon’s wife.

Though he wasn’t involved in her murder, Haydon helped cover it up, lying to Elizabeth’s family about where she was.

When the police began investigating her disappearance, the gang moved the barrels to the disused Snowtown bank vault, where they were eventually discovered.

Haydon co-signed the lease on the place, cementing his involvement.

Still, when his case came to court in 2005, the jury could not agree on the murder charges.

He was convicted of five counts of assisting an offender, and he pleaded guilty to two more.

His 25-year punishment was the longest custodial sentence for assisting an offender in South Australian history and longer than many served by murderers.

“That gives you a good comparator of how the court viewed this particular example of [the offence of] assist offender,” says SA Law Society Criminal Law Committee member James Marcus.

For the victims’ families though, their suffering is never-ending, and many are said to be “struggling” at the thought of Haydon’s release.

“These crimes have had an enduring impact on victims’ families – they’ve suffered and continue to suffer unimaginable trauma,” says South Australia’s Commissioner for Victims’ Rights, Sarah Quick.

“Many still suffer from nightmares, PTSD, lack of motivation.”

Haydon is said to have done well in rehabilitation and has shown contrition and remorse.

Whether that is enough to reassure the victims’ families about his release seems unlikely.

The post After 25 years in jail for the Snowtown murders, Mark Ray Haydon is due for release in May appeared first on Now To Love.

The mother-of-three was last seen leaving her property on Eureka Street for a run in the Canadian State Forest just after 7am on February 4.

At the time of going to press, Samantha, 51, had not been found.

COMMUNITY SEARCH

In what has been dubbed the largest community response ever in the Ballarat region, hundreds of residents joined emergency crews to help look for Samantha.

Local Priscilla Grech spent last week searching with friends around a lookout. “I’m a mother-of-three too, and I just want to find her safe and sound and for her to be able to return to her family,” Priscilla tells Woman’s Day.

“I had a few other ladies with me. We split into groups of two and searched different tracks. It was very rough terrain – full of mine shafts – and the tracks led off everywhere.”

She explained how Samantha’s disappearance had affected everyone.

“It’s shaken our community, but it is great to see so many people who are out searching. I still have hope.”

Some residents initially voiced fears that Samantha may have fallen into one of the many hidden mine shafts in the area.

However, local cyclist Danny Brizzi disputes this. “If you’re a local, you always stick to the trails,” he told Woman’s Day. “The chances Sam accidentally fell down a shaft are extremely remote.

“Many of the dangerous ones that are near the walking paths have been professionally covered up. Most of the others are
mostly filled with dirt and aren’t dangerous.”

Danny, who covered more than 65 kilometres of trails, roads and paths last week while searching for the missing mum, explained he got on his bike as soon as Samantha was reported missing.

“[Samantha] is a part of our school community. I was focused on finding her,” he says.

On the afternoon of February 7, police established a crime scene just 500 metres from the avid runner’s home after discovering “items of interest” in nearby bushland.

SHOCKED FAMILY

Detectives were spotted looking closely at a plastic tree guard in the shrub before cordoning off the area.

Samantha’s husband Michael Murphy reportedly looked shell-shocked while speaking to police at the scene, before he was
turned away.

The panel beater, who co-owns a smash repair business with his wife, previously told the media that he was “not too bad under the circumstances” and remained hopeful that she’d be found safely.

“It’s just up in the air, we don’t know,” he said. “It’s just a whole time thing at the end of the day,” referring to the
ongoing search.

Police later said they’d ruled out the items being in relation to Samantha’s disappearance.

The search continued late into last week, with more than 100 officers from various units, including the dog squad, mounted branch and air wing, alongside SES, CFA and Parks Victoria personnel involved.

Samantha’s daughter hit out against “malicious” speculation on social media about her mother’s disappearance. “You have no idea what you are talking about,” she wrote on Facebook. “Be quiet and think before you post.”

Police have found that Samantha’s phone pinged from a telecommunications tower, and said they were still working to discover if it remained on.

“Phones can run out of battery but that forms part of the investigation,” Acting Inspector Lisa MacDougall said. “We’re going to look into all the possibilities.”

BELOVED FRIEND

A much-loved member of her community, Samantha is believed to have been involved with the Ballarat Centre of Music & the Arts for more than 20 years. Two of her children were also enrolled in the school.

Samantha’s family are “upset and concerned” while the police described her disappearance as being very out of character.

Anyone needing support can call Lifeline on 13 11 14. Anyone with more information can contact Ballarat East police on (03) 5336 6000.

The post Search for missing mum: Locals speak out appeared first on Now To Love.

Hobbling along the shore, I tried my best to focus on the stunning view.

“Let’s go back to the camp site,” my partner George said, noticing my limp.

I sighed. It was 2018, and we’d come to Shoalhaven Beach, NSW, my favourite place in the world, for a holiday, but it was impossible to ignore the grief both my knees were giving me.

I knew it was down to my weight.

Raising my little boy Joshua as a single mum, I’d found myself time poor, and while he was always well fed, I’d often ended up ordering fast food for myself.

Then, one day at work, when I was 29, I tried moving a filing cabinet down some stairs when I tripped and broke my ankle.

Getting around on crutches was extremely difficult, and as the weeks rolled by, I put on weight.

After that, I accepted myself as a bigger woman.

Then, in 2008, I reconnected with an old friend, George, 43, who I hadn’t seen for over a decade.

I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but George, a doting dad, made me feel so comfortable.

Despite all the years that had passed, it was like we’d never been apart and we married in 2012.

As more time passed, my weight increased causing mobility problems.

Then I tore a ligament in my knee just from walking and needed surgery.

Now, we were on holiday in Shoalhaven, and I realised something.

I’ve got to do something about this, I thought.

I’d been ignoring the seriousness of the situation, but I couldn’t continue.

George and I had a holiday to Hawaii booked for the following year and there was no way I could enjoy it in my condition.

As luck would have it, on the drive back home, I saw an ad for The Lady Shake, a meal replacement program.

The timing was perfect!

I happily started adding the morning and lunch shakes to my diet, while still able to enjoy a regular family dinner.

In the first month, I lost six kilos and found myself with loads more energy.

I also started going for walks and doing weights exercises.

Within 12 months, I’d lost 30kg!

“You look amazing,” George said.

When it was time to fly to Hawaii, I was better than I’d ever been and was able to hike to Koko Crater with George.

After the trip, I continued losing weight and got down to a size eight.

I was such a success story that I was invited to do an underwear photo shoot for a newspaper to show off my successful weight loss.

To my surprise, I even made the front page!

“My beautiful cover model,” George beamed.

Josh is so proud of me and always congratulates me on all I’ve achieved.

Now, four years on, I’ve maintained my weight and feel better than ever.

Looking back, I wish I’d done it sooner, but I hope my story inspires others to take control of their life.

I can’t wait to see what adventures lie ahead.

For more on The Lady Shake and how to ‘shake back your life’, visit the ladyshake.com.au.

Plus! Check out some delicious healthy meal ideas at the ladyshake.com.au/blog/recipes/

The post I shed 30 kilos in just one year! appeared first on Now To Love.

Despite her unimaginable hardships, Sophie’s beaming smile never waned. And years on from her two horrific accidents, Sophie’s trademark smile hasn’t changed a bit.

The ambitious 22-year-old has grown into an incredible young woman, returning from an overseas stint studying sociology and international relations at the University of London.

“Sophie is a very determined young woman,” her proud father Ron told The Weekly last year ahead of her departure.

“She has had to be determined and strong all her life. After everything that she has endured in the past 15 years, her just being alive is a testament to how determined she really is. She has had a plan to live overseas for at least a couple of years and she’s been quietly working toward that goal the entire time.”

Her unbelievably cruel start to life is the stuff of nightmares.

Sophie lost her feet, an ear and some of her fingers when a car ploughed into her Sydney daycare centre just before Christmas in 2003, before suffering a heart attack when she was hit by a car and thrown almost 20 metres in another terrible accident in May 2006.

Sophie has never let the accidents or the lifelong disabilities they left her with prevent her from chasing her dreams.

“In my mind I’m not ‘Sophie the girl with no legs’ but someone completely normal. I think of myself as Sophie the chatterbox, the socialite, the girl who loves a good hamburger and enjoys each day as much as she can,” she has said.

“Everything is a choice. You can choose not to see the positive in things. You can choose to just focus on the negatives and wallow in pity. Everyone is allowed to grieve but you also need to look at the beauty in the world.”

Sophie recently got engaged to Joseph Salerno on Valentine’s Day 2023 and now the couple have just moved into their new apartment that they own together.

Their love story sounds like it came straight from a Hollywood rom-com after the two met when they were six-year-old kids on the same swimming team.

She recently shared a candid video updating her fans about her natural hair after wearing hair extensions since she was just 15.

In the mirror she showcased her hair without the extensions and explained that despite loving them that’s not her reality.

“They make me feel confident and happy and I love wearing them. But during this recovery journey I thought now was the best time to give my entire body a chance to recover and leave my neutral hair be for a moment!”

She also updated her fans after she had surgery on her legs to improve her walking and give herself that freedom and independence.

“It has been a long time coming but I’m finally up and semi walking! I cannot express the relief I feel to be upright and independent!” Sophie shared along with a video on her Instagram.

Keep scrolling as we take a look at Sophie’s amazing journey in pictures!

Sophie Delezio shares her story

Sophie Delezio and her fiancé Joseph buy apartment together

Sophie recently underwent surgery on her legs to help her walk down the aisle.

Sophie got engaged on Valentine’s Day 2023 to boyfriend Joseph Salerno.

Following her stint in London, Sophie has since moved back to Sydney and we can’t wait to see what she does next!

“London is an incredible city. And yes, I even love the weather – cold and rainy suits me fine, but so far I’ve had sunshine and that’s great, too! I’ve got a new sense of independence since moving here, it’s taught me a lot,”

“I am so happy, I just love it here,” Sophie revealed of her life in London.

“I will miss my family and my friends but at the same time there is a sense of anticipation that is almost overwhelming. It’s as though I am finally getting an opportunity to spread my wings and sample everything that the world has to offer – but on my terms and in my own way. It’s an adventure,” she told The Weekly before her trip.

London calling: Last year, Sophie set off for an adventure of a lifetime as she moved to London to study.

“In my mind I’m not ‘Sophie the girl with no legs’ but someone completely normal. I think of myself as Sophie the chatterbox, the socialite, the girl who loves a good hamburger and enjoys each day as much as she can.”

Although occasionally reliant on crutches and her trusty red wheelchair, she owns three pairs of prosthetic limbs – one for flat shoes and sneakers, and two with adjustable soles so she can wear 5cm and 10cm heels.

“I’m so happy – this is about celebrating with my friends, and the best time of my life so far,” she told Woman’s Day at the time.

In 2018, Sophie was all smiles as she headed off to her year 12 formal.

Sophie with her father and her beloved assistance dog Willow.

Sophie Delezio is all grown up

“My reverse parking can still do with some polish,” she joked at the time.

In 2018, the teenager shared an exciting milestone many teenagers take for granted – getting her Ls!

Sophie rubs shoulders with The Wiggles.

Sophie’s fighting spirit has been an inspiration – not just for her proud parents Ron and Carolyn but for the whole nation.

In a tragic twist, two-and-a-half years later Sophie was hit by a car at a pedestrian crossing, and thrown 18 meters. This time she suffered a broken jaw and collarbone, nine broken ribs, punctured lungs, two fractured vertebrae and a brain injury.

The adorable toddler suffered horrific injuries, including burns to 85 per cent of her body, the loss of both feet, one hand and one ear.

In 2003 at just two years old, Sophie became trapped under a burning car that had ploughed into her daycare in Fairlight, Sydney.

The post Sophie Delezio’s extraordinary life as the 22-year-old shares ‘completely open and honest’ new video appeared first on Now To Love.

I’d just stepped inside after a long day at work when the phone rang.

“When did you last check the sheep?” my son Graham asked, concerned.

It was 2021 and he was living in another house on the property overlooking the back paddock where my 60-odd sheep were grazing.

“Yesterday,” I replied.

“You’d better come look,” he urged. “There’s bodies everywhere!”

Dashing up there, I was horrified to find 25 sheep, including young lambs, lying dead.

It was clear from the wounds that they’d been attacked by wild dogs from the bush.

“They haven’t eaten them,” I observed in disbelief. “Just killed them for sport.”

The poor other sheep were clearly shaken from the bloodbath.

Our farm had been in the family since 1850, and in the 40 years I’d lived there, we’d never had wild dogs attack.

Next day, Graeme, along with my other son, John, dug a large grave for the sheep.

As those 25 would have had a market value of around $15,000, it was a painful loss.

We moved the remaining flock further from the bushland and began investigating ways to protect them.

First, we tried alpacas, but the feral dogs killed them.

“Apparently donkeys can defend sheep,” John told me after searching online.

So in early 2022, I visited the Last Stop Donkey Program in Singleton, NSW.

I was met by the manager, Brooke, who’d mustered 50 wild donkeys from Queensland and the NT with her husband, Heath.

“Donkeys are a pest up north,” she explained, “so we brought them to the Hunter Valley to help with the dog problem.”

When I questioned their usefulness as bodyguards, she told a surprising story.

“A pig got into the enclosure recently,” she said, “and one of the donkeys kicked it to death in defence.”

I knew I’d found my sheep protector!

My new donkey, Honey, was fresh from the Territory and yet to be tamed.

She kicked me a few times when I first brought her to the farm, but soon relaxed to my presence.

The sheep, however, bonded with her instantly, as if she were one of their own.

A few weeks after her arrival, a fox ran onto the property.

I was delighted to see that Honey had herded the sheep together and was keeping them safe!

“Good girl, Honey,” I encouraged.

Months went by without any more dog attacks.

Later that year, I was eating breakfast on my porch when I spotted something large drop out of Honey.

What’s that? I wondered, trekking over.

The sheep had also gathered round to inspect.

There on the grass was a foal!

Honey stood the baby up on its legs with her mouth and off he trotted.

She didn’t even look pregnant, I marvelled.

Since the arrival of the foal named Storm, Honey has become very protective of him, too.

Hopefully, he will grow up to become just as sweet as her.

Honey’s a very special donkey and has made our farm a much safer place with her presence.

The post My donkey is a bodyguard! appeared first on Now To Love.

I looked over my wife’s shoulders anxiously as she put the finishing touches to my profile.

“So, what do you think?” I asked as she sat back.

She turned to me, with a playful grin.

“I’d sleep with you,” she cheekily said.

It was 2019 and, with the full support of this woman, who I’d been married to for nine years and had a four-year-old child with, I was about to enter the world of male escorting, aged 41.

I’d been a stay-at-home dad, as my wife, a doctor, was the higher earner.

Frustrated and bored, I was ready to start making money again, but felt too far from the lawyer I’d been before my son was born.

The idea of escorting came to me after my wife agreed to open up our marriage to other people.

The topic had arisen after she’d found inappropriate texts to another mum at our son’s playgroup, and even though I hadn’t done anything physical with this woman, it made me confess my desire to have sex with other people.

“If it’s going to save our marriage, let’s do it,” she agreed.

At first, I went on Tinder before the idea of making money from sex occurred to me.

Surprisingly, my wife seemed more on board with paid sex than casual encounters.

So here we were, as a couple, deciding the best pictures to use to make me appeal to other women. My wife had shot them using one of the professional cameras I used as a hobby.

When my first booking came in a few weeks later, she helped me pick out what to wear – pale chinos, a well-cut shirt and a dark blazer – before we put our son to bed and I kissed her bye.

“I love you,” I told her.

On the drive over to the address of the motel I’d been given, pangs of guilt stabbed my gut each time I thought about her at home.

An hour later, I parked outside the motel and knocked on the door of my first-ever client.

When a rather beautiful 30-year-old brunette answered, excitement began to overtake my nerves.

At least I don’t have to fake attraction, I thought.

She was visibly shaking and clearly more nervous than me.

“Hi,” I smiled, opening my arms to her.

Shyly, she walked into them, and I held her for several minutes, stroking her hair.

“Would you like me to kiss you?” I asked releasing her.

“Oh, okay,” she squeaked.

Things from there moved quickly.

Once she was satisfied, I held her as we talked.

She told me her friends had booked me to help her get back into dating.

“I was with my ex for years,” she said. “He broke my heart by sleeping with someone else.”

She craved intimacy, but the pain she’d suffered made her reluctant to put herself out there again, especially as her self-esteem had taken a hit.

Over time, I began to realise most women who booked me had suffered emotionally and used escorting to help build themselves up again.

Some were newly divorced and hadn’t had sex for years. Others were still married, but it was either loveless or their husbands no longer had the ability to perform.

Sadly, I lost count of the number of women who had suffered sexual abuse or domestic violence. They struggled to trust anyone but a paid professional where they could control the environment.

On one occasion, I was even booked by a husband, as a gift for his wife, but that was the last time I ever took on any surprise bookings.

When I knocked on the door and explained who I was, a look of sheer horror spread across her face.

Her husband had clearly got things very wrong.

“So sorry, I’ll go,” I said, making a hasty retreat.

But there was one client that really stuck with me.

Her name was Sam and she’d been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, shortly after separating from her ex-husband.

Knowing she only had two to five years to live, she saw dating as pointless, but still wanting intimacy she’d decided to go down the route of an escort for companionship, booking a couple of times a week.

Over the years, Sam and I formed a strong bond, and I couldn’t help but develop an affection for her.

As an escort, you’re not meant to allow yourself to become attached, which sometimes isn’t possible.

When Sam’s illness developed to the point she needed full-time care, our visits stopped, and to this day I don’t know if she’s dead or alive, which cuts me deeply.

There were extreme highs during my time as a male escort, but there were also extreme lows. My marriage failing was another one.

After six months, what had meant to be a side hustle, morphed me into becoming one of the most in-demand male escorts around and I was working at least three times a week.

At first, I offered one-hour appointments at $300, but I realised the time was too rushed so increased the booking time to two hours minimum.

Even when I was home, I was absent, spending time messaging my clients, so eventually, after a year, my wife and I agreed it was time for me to move out.

Fortunately, we were able to remain good friends, and we’re united as parents to give our son the best life that we can.

While I was an escort, I wrestled with the question of whether I could be a good parent and a sex worker at the same time.

Though I was present in his life, I worried about what I’d say when my son started asking me questions about what I did.

Earlier this year, I finally left the sex industry after four years. It was difficult, but knowing I’d provided the best service I could and helped so many women, made it easier.

Now, I want to use my experience to guide and educate the next generation of men. Most importantly, my son.

The post Married Aussie dad was paid to sleep with other women appeared first on Now To Love.

I sipped my cuppa and sighed.

“Long night,” I said to my colleague, Lorna.

It was 2016 and we were both working as paramedics, where we’d endured countless physically and verbally violent patients.

On this occasion, two patients had spat in our faces, a record low for a Friday night.

When things got tough, we’d often reimagine our life outside of the emergency services.

“You should be a stunt woman,” Lorna said.

“Is that even a real job?” I laughed.

After seven years as a paramedic, the burnout associated with being an emergency worker had well and truly set in. On an average shift, we would witness some of the best and worst days of people’s lives. Pivotal life moments for our patients were just one of many traumas witnessed by us in one shift.

But Lorna made me think.

From the age of two, I was training in Judo since my grandad John was the owner-operator of the local club. By five, I was competing for national titles.

After he passed away at 62, I took some time away from martial arts but got back into zen do kai, a form of mixed martial arts, as an adult.

Fighting, along with training in aerial arts, was something I enjoyed to blow off steam after work. Whether it was administering adrenaline or chasing after it, I knew that an office job simply wasn’t for me. So being a stunt person sounded perfect.

After my shift ended, I googled stunt courses and discovered The Stunt Academy on the Gold Coast.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

At 28, I decided if I was going to do this, it was now or never.

So I set about making it happen.

Within three weeks, I’d taken extended leave without pay from work and moved over to Queensland to do the course.

Over the next couple of years, I learned how to fall and absorb impact, how to fight at a distance and make the “hits” sell it to camera, I learnt wirework and parkour, and even how to be set on fire.

It was physically demanding, but I loved it.

In my first paid role, I was cast as a double for an actress in the TV show Harrow, where I was knocked to the floor and tackled by security.

On a trip back to Perth, I reconnected with an old schoolmate, Brett, and we hit it off since he too worked in the film and tv industry.

“I’ll come visit you in Queensland,” he said.

Within three months, he’d moved over to live with me. And not long after that, we were engaged and pregnant with our first child, Lockie.

Soon after, I returned to stunts and was asked to perform in Baz Lurhmann’s blockbuster movie, Elvis.

“A solid, yes!” I told the stunt coordinator.

Wearing a 1950s dress, I along with other stunt women, was tasked with storming the stage where Elvis was performing.

It was hard to believe that I was being paid to do this!

While stunt work comes in ebbs and flows, I decided to combine my two loves and set up a first aid training business called Action & Emergency.

As a mum, first aid suddenly seemed so much more important to me. It made sense to teach the community how to look after them when I couldn’t be there.

The knock on effect was huge. It’s not just my kids taken care of, it’s everyone else’s kids too.

In November 2019 we moved back to Perth to be closer to family and friends.

Our work meant that we would still have to travel but thankfully if one of us was working, the other would stay home and look after our boy.

One day, while Brett was working on a whale documentary out at sea, I got a call from a stunt coordinator.

“Are you free next week? We are filming Thor Love & Thunder in Sydney,” he said.

“Absolutely!” I lied. With the work just days away, I created a roster of babysitters and left a note on the fridge for Brett to come home to.

Gone to Sydney to work on Thor, Lockie is with your mum. Back in two weeks, it read.

In September 2022, Brett and I had our second son, Lando. On maternity leave, I focussed on building my business in Perth. I was even a finalist for an Australian business award.

As Lockie grows up, he too is turning into quite the adrenaline junkie. He’d often take a hard tumble from his bike as I watched on.

“Are you okay buddy?” I’d ask.

“I’m good,” he’d mutter, sticking his thumb up in the air before saddling back up for the next round.

When strangers meet me, they’d have no idea that I am a stunt performer. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now, I’m pretty good at being knocked down but even better at getting back up again.

The post Self-confessed adrenaline junkie gets PAID to be set on fire! appeared first on Now To Love.

Read some of the most disturbing murders that remain a mystery below:

Walsh Street Murders

Former Victorian Police Detective Inspector John Noonan admits not a day goes by without him recalling the horror of October 12, 1988.

As he arrived in the early hours of the morning at Walsh Street in the Melbourne suburb of South Yarra, John found the dead bodies of two young police constables, Damian Eyre, 20, and Steven Tynan, 22, who had been ambushed in a hail of bullets by a criminal gang.

The two constables had been called out to investigate an abandoned stolen car, but it was a trap – the car was a revenge tactic set up for the shooting death by police the day before of Graeme Jensen.

“I will never forget the sight of the stolen car and the police van with its doors open,” John tells Woman’s Day.

“It was a gruesome and violent scene of two young men murdered in a callous manner.

“But it was especially confronting as it was fellow police officers and that resonated with all of us in the force.”

John, now 70, spent the next three years heading up the investigation, piecing together evidence that culminated in noted criminals Victor Peirce, Trevor Pettingill, Anthony Farrell and Peter McEvoy standing trial in March 1991 for the murders.

The case fell apart, however, when a key witness refused to testify and the four were acquitted.

“We were very disappointed with the result,” says John.

“Every time I think of Damian and Steve, I do feel like we let them down a bit, that we didn’t get a result at the trial. But it also meant we could not give up.”

Ever since, John has been advocating for a coronial inquest.

“Because of all the evidence that wasn’t heard in court, that had been ruled out for whatever reasons, there was still plenty that could go before the inquest, and that might result in a different finding,” he explains.

Despite the many requests, including those by the Eyre and Tynan families, an inquest continues to be rejected.

Even though original suspects Victor Peirce and Anthony Farrell have since died, John believes there is enough compelling evidence to make an inquest worthwhile.

Sadly, he doubts it will eventuate. “It will take something extraordinary to do so,” says John, “And while I do live in hope, it’s not looking positive.”

Fairy Meadow beach mystery

Three-year-old Cheryl Grimmer vanished from a beach on the outskirts of Wollongong, NSW, on January 12, 1970, having spent the day there with her three older brothers and mother.

She was last seen near the showers, and witnesses later told of seeing a man carrying a child wrapped in a towel towards the beach carpark.

In 2019, the murder trial against a man who was a teenager at the time of Cheryl’s disappearance collapsed.

The judge ruled the “confession” given to police in 1971 could not be presented as trial evidence as, among other reasons, no adult had been present during the interview.

Earlier this year, another witness came forward, saying they saw a teenage boy carrying a small child but the NSW Attorney-General has rejected an appeal for a fresh inquest.

“Cheryl was three years old. She was defenceless and no one seems to care about her,” Cheryl’s older brother Ricki Nash said of the decision.

Woman in the boot

Melbourne mum Maria Korp was found in the boot of her red Mazda near the city’s Shrine of Remembrance on February 13, 2005.

She had been reported missing by her family after disappearing four days earlier. Incredibly, she was found still alive but suffering from severe oxygen deprivation, head injuries and extreme dehydration.

Maria, 50, was rushed to a nearby hospital and put on life support but tragically died six months later.

Her husband Joe Korp took his own life on the day of Maria’s funeral after being charged with her attempted murder.

It’s alleged he convinced his mistress Tania Herman to kill Maria so they could be together.

Herman was found to have choked Maria with a strap, then put her into the car boot, thinking she was dead.

Herman was found guilty of attempted murder and served eight years in jail.

She was released on parole in 2014 and claims she was coerced into the killing by Korp.

Maria’s now-adult daughter, Laura De Gois, told A Current Affair in 2010 that she remembered her mother from happier times.”I don’t want her to be classified as the woman in the boot,” she said.

Model Murder

Nearly three decades after the disappearance of Sydney model, dancer and escort Revelle Balmain, new evidence has come to light that could finally bring closure for her family.

Revelle, 22, disappeared on November 5, 1994, around the Kingsford area with her keys and other personal possessions found scattered on a nearby street.

A coronial inquest in 1999 found she died at the hands of a person or persons unknown.

No one has ever been charged, but after an anonymous tip-off in 2021, the case has been reopened and police are urging the public to come forward with any information that might aid the investigation.

Revelle’s disappearance will be re-examined by the Coroner in February and there is a $1 million reward for information.

Her parents passed away without knowing what happened to their daughter and in October, her sister Suellen Simpson spoke about how Revelle’s disappearance has caused immeasurable grief to her family.

“Not knowing tears you apart limb by limb and your heart crumbles into many hundreds of pieces,” she told The Sun. “It’s infuriating knowing there is someone who knows what happened.”

Wanda beach killings

Nearly 60 years after being murdered and left on the sand dunes of a south Sydney beach, teenagers Marianne Schmidt and Christine Sharrock’s murders remain unsolved.

The 15-year-old girls took a train to Cronulla with Marianne’s younger siblings on January 11, 1965, and spent the day there.

After lunch, the girls walked along the beach, leaving the children on the Wanda Beach sand dunes.

When the girls didn’t return, they made their way home by train. The next day, Marianne and Christine’s bodies were found buried in the hollow of a sandhill.

Many suspects have been investigated over the years, including a young surfer, who was later jailed for child abuse and serial killer Christopher Wilder, who died in 1984 after a six-week murder spree. Police files from the time reveal he was an official suspect.

Police have reopened the case on multiple occasions over the years but no one has been charged.

In 2009, Marianne’s mum Elisabeth died without ever knowing what happened to her.

Her son and Marianne’s brother Hans said in 2014 that Elisabeth had never given up hope that the killer would be discovered.

“She’d always put on a brave face but the impact Marianne’s death had on her was devastating,” he said.

“She said she spoke to Marianne every day and she’d always dream about her.”

The post Unsolved: Crimes that shook Australia! appeared first on Now To Love.

Putting down the book I was reading, I turned to my mum Phyllis.

“Next year, when I go to high school…,” I started, thinking of all the novels I’d soon be devouring.

But before I could finish my sentence, Mum cut me off.

“There will be no high school,” she said. “We don’t have money for uniforms or school shoes or books.”

It was 1963; I was 12 and had spent the whole of primary school not wearing any shoes, but I dreamed of being a teacher.

My family were very poor and my three older siblings hadn’t gone on to high school. Two of them had started work and my older sister stayed home to help mum look after the younger kids.

Two weeks before I turned 13, I started cutting threads off shirts in a clothing factory.

One year later, I started dating George, 17, a local boy who knew my brother, Martin.

We married when I was 17 and he was 21.

In time, we had our three kids Darcy, Georgina and Kelly.

George found work on cattle stations so we moved to the outback in Western Queensland.

I taught our three kids during their primary school years and that scratched my teaching itch a little, but the desire to study more never left me.

“When we retire, I want to go to university,” I told George.

I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.

After 40 years in the outback, we retired in 2015 and I seized my chance.

At the age of 66, I enrolled in a program with the University of the Sunshine Coast called the Tertiary Preparation Pathway which helped mature students prepare for university.

Next, I enrolled in a BA majoring in English.

Walking onto campus that first day in February 2017, it was clear I was the oldest student there but that didn’t put me off in the slightest.

My biggest challenge wasn’t the course work; it was the technology.

Before submitting my first assignment, I turned to two girls sitting at the table next to me.

“How do I send this in?” I asked.

They kindly showed me but as I clicked “send” I was terrified all that work had disappeared into the black hole of cyberspace never to be seen again.

My grandchildren constantly sent me encouraging messages saying, “We’re so proud of you, Granny” or asking how I was doing.

I loved campus life and was very sad when COVID meant we had to move all our lectures online.

I passed all my subjects with flying colours and when I was invited to graduate, I cried. I couldn’t believe I’d done it.

George, my sister Alexis, 63, daughter Georgina, and granddaughter Taylor all came to my graduation ceremony in April 2023 and sat in the front row.

Wearing my black robe and hat, I marched in to Johnny Farnham’s The Voice. I’ll never forget that feeling, waiting in the wings backstage for the Dean to call my name.

“This is a wonderful achievement,” he told me as he handed my degree.

I couldn’t agree more.

I’d love to do another degree but George will kill me.

“I thought the plan was to spend our retirement together!” he joked.

If you’re thinking of getting a degree just do it. I have three great grandchildren now and if I can get a degree aged 73, so can you.

The post Aussie mum gets a degree at 73 appeared first on Now To Love.

My phone slipped out of my hand and fell down the side of the bed.

“Darn,” I said.

I was lying in bed next to my wife Sarah, 41.

Suddenly, I heard some strange clucking noises.

I looked over and realised they were coming from her.

At first, I thought she was laughing at something.

But within seconds her tongue lolled out of her mouth.

“Oh my God!” I cried out.

I raced over to her side of the bed and stood looking at her in complete shock.

It was August 2014. We’d moved back to Sydney the year before after five years in Fiji.

I’d learnt CPR for my sky diving business that I’d been running for 20 years and now realised I’d need to administer it on my own wife.

Fishing my phone out from under the bed, I called Triple 0 and began chest compressions.

Six long minutes later paramedics finally arrived.

They placed a defibrillator onto Sarah’s chest and her body jolted into the air with the electrical shock.

They worked on her for forty minutes.

“She’s stable, we’re taking her to hospital,” one said at last.

They high-fived each other in the parking lot.

In hospital, Sarah remained in a coma.

Thirteen days later, she opened her eyes. They brightened when I walked into her room so I knew she wasn’t brain-damaged.

“You’re going to be ok,” I said, relieved.

She was in hospital for another 100 days.

In that time, I learnt it was extremely rare for paramedics to revive patients who had gone into cardiac arrest.

The reason the paramedics high-fived each other was because 33 of their cardiac call outs before Sarah and 40 after her had resulted in death.

The current survival rate from cardiac arrests is 3 per cent, yet 16,500 have one around the world every day.

Also, 80 per cent of cardiac arrests happen at home.

I decided every home should have its own defibrillator, but the ones on the market were heavy, bulky and cost thousands of dollars.

So I teamed up with my friend Erol, an electrical engineer, who helped me design CellAED, a lightweight automated defibrillator, the size of a paperback novel.

It took years of prototypes and red tape but finally it was launched in December 2021.

We’ve sold 10,000 so far and are on track to sell 100,000 next year and 400,000 the year after that.

My goal is to place one in every home and office around the world.

Meanwhile, Sarah, 49, is doing well.

She’s very busy working in the business.

If we ever have an argument I raise my eyebrows.

“Remember I saved your life,” I tease her.

Here’s hoping my invention can save many more.

The post Man who saved his wife’s life now plans to help others with his invention appeared first on Now To Love.

Speeding into the driveway, I looked at my phone to see 76 missed calls from my partner, Jayson.

Hands shaking, I pulled my 12-week-old son Patrick out of his baby seat and handed him to my mum, Julie, before grabbing my daughter Jessie, 17 months, out of the car.

“Quick!” I shouted as I heard Jayson’s van pull into the driveway. “Get in the house.”

It was March 2004, and for most of our three-year marriage , Jayson had subjected me to emotional torture and brutal beatings.

That afternoon, Jayson had called me from work.

“Tonight’s the night,” he told me cryptically. “It’s on.”

He didn’t elaborate further, but his words made me fear for my life given how violent and temperamental he was.

I knew, then, that I had to escape him for good.

I’d met Jayson through an internet chat site in 1999 when I was 28 and things were perfect at first.

Our relationship began in a whirlwind where he had moved in within eight weeks. He was charming, strong and attentive.

After six months, he proposed.

Three days before our wedding in September 2001, he got so angry that he punched the car windscreen and shattered it.

With the wedding so close, I hoped it was a one-off incident and things would soon calm down.

But I was wrong.

His violence and coercive control only got worse as time went on.

For a long time I feared that one day he might attempt to kill me.

Having twice breached violence orders the police had taken out against him on my behalf, I feared for mine and my two children’s lives and I did what any protective mother would: flee.

So that afternoon in March, I’d grabbed Patrick’s nappy baby, bundled him into his car seat and raced to daycare to pick up Jessie before driving down from Brisbane to Mum and her partner Paul’s place on the Gold Coast.

Jayson must have been reading my mind, because when I didn’t answer any of his calls, he followed me.

Despite our best efforts to lock him out of Mum’s house, he got in through a side door into the garage.

With the police on the way, he made a calculating move by driving off with my car.

Hoping I’d seen the last of him, me and the kids enjoyed 10 days of relaxation and went to stay with my cousins on their farm in Toowoomba.

There was no way the three of us were ever going to live with Jayson again.

Then, while we were away, Mum called to say that he had filed legal action to get access to our children.

Unable to cope with it all, I was left hospitalised from burnout and the stress of everything that had happened.

While the kids were staying with Mum, Jayson claimed interim custody of them.

“I’ll fight him,” I assured Mum.

Two days before Anzac Day, the court ruled that I would have custody of the kids and Jayson would only have access to them one weekend a fortnight.

Since he already had the kids, we were due to meet at a police station for him to hand them over at the end of the weekend.

Thank god, I thought.

That weekend, Mum and I excitedly prepared her house to have the kids back with us.

Waking up at 3 am on ANZAC Day, I was filled with dread, as if I knew something bad was going to happen.

We went to the dawn service to pay tribute to my grandfather, Alexander, who fought in World War 1.

As I watched the sun rise, I continued to feel uneasy.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Mum soothed.

I couldn’t help feeling that my mother’s intuition was telling me something wasn’t quite right.

Come afternoon, Mum and I were waiting outside the police station to collect the children.

As minutes ticked by and Jayson a no show, I started to panic.

“Something’s happened,” I screamed at the officers inside the station. They shared my concern and suggested we contact the federal police.

“He’s probably done a runner,” the cops said.

I phoned the police station that had dealt with Jayson in the past and they dispatched a patrol car to my former home, where the kids were staying with their dad.

Back at Mum’s, I grew restless and grabbed her keys.

“I have to go home,” I said.

“I’ll drive you ,” Paul offered.

Mum stayed home in case Jayson phoned or turned up. For the hour-long drive I assured myself that everything would be okay.

But at 10pm, we pulled onto my road and I saw blue flashing lights ahead. Police cars were outside my former home.

Ambulances and news crews covered the street.

But I didn’t care.

When Paul pulled over, I bolted across the road to get to my house.

“Are they alive?” I choked out as I crumpled onto the ground.

“They’re all dead,” a stranger told me.

What came next was a complete blur as I was overcome with the most unimaginable grief.

As weeks went by, I learned more horrific details about what happened that night.

An autopsy revealed Jayson Dalton, 32, had drugged both children before murdering them and taking his own life.

He had even written a goodbye email to me.

Jayson believed that by taking away the two most important things from me, he could control me from beyond the grave.

I wasn’t prepared to let him win.

In the wake of my children’s death, I channelled my grief into helping other women and children affected by domestic violence.

While Patrick never grew old enough to say ‘mum’ or ‘I love you’ and Jessie never got to experience school, I found solace in my faith and in sharing my story.

On the anniversary of their death, I returned to the dawn service on ANZAC Day and paid tribute to my lost babies.

Then and there, I decided to forgive and let go of blame.

“I’ll never forget you,” I said to Jessie and Patrick as I looked up to the sky.

In the months that followed, I campaigned the government to better protect children in domestic violence situations.

Slowly but surely, I was able to move on with my life, never forgetting my angels in heaven.

“Good night Jessie and Patrick,” I’d say every night before bed. “I love you and hope I dream about you tonight.”

In June 2005, I was stunned to find that I had fallen pregnant by a man that I had since ended a relationship with.

It felt like a miracle.

What’s more, I had joined an online dating website and met Glen, 41, a soldier.

While I wasn’t sure I could ever trust another man, there was an undeniable spark between Glen and I.

He was so kind, attentive, and supported me through every up and down of my grief.

On Christmas Day later that year, Glen got down on one knee to me while I was heavily pregnant.

Two days later, I gave birth to Sean Alexander.

While it was wonderful to welcome a precious new life into the world, it was also bittersweet.

In the hospital, I felt the presence of my other babies and I was sure they were smiling down on me and their little brother.

Glen raised my boy as if he was his own.

The following year, Glen and I tied the knot and we welcomed baby Melissa in 2007.

Now, the kids are nearly grown up at 17 and 16 and we live our new normal.

Nothing will bring back my lost angels but I hope in sharing my story, I will keep their legacy alive.

Dionne’s story appears in the book Look What You Made Me Do, Fathers Who Kill, by Megan Norris, (Big Sky Publishing)

If you or anyone you know experiences domestic violence contact 1800 RESPECT on 1800 737 732 or visit www.1800respect.org,au

The post Aussie mum’s heartbreak after her evil ex murdered her kids for revenge appeared first on Now To Love.

The doctor’s face was grim.

“It’s not good news,” she said.

My husband Adam, 33, gripped my hand as the doctor explained our unborn child had Pontocerebellar Hypoplasia, PCH, a terminal brain condition.

“She might only live a few hours,” the doctor warned.

“And if she lives beyond that, she will need a wheelchair and a feeding tube. We advise you terminate.”

I clutched my pregnant belly protectively.

It was early 2019 and only the year before, we’d lost our baby Noah at 19 weeks in utero.

I was still reeling with grief and now had this terrible news.

Suddenly, a strong maternal instinct took over me.

“I’m her mum,” I said firmly. “We’re not terminating. I will love and protect her whatever happens.”

I hired a doula, Selena, to be my advocate.

Selena and Adam spoke to the doctors from then on so I wouldn’t have to.

I focused on staying calm and positive not just for our unborn child but for our other children too, Jordan, 17, Aaron and Alex, 10, and Olivia, two.

I cut out pictures of healthy babies from magazines and stuck them on a cork board in our bedroom.

I did acupuncture and drank green juices.

Every morning I meditated using a heart chakra crystal bowl.

Bob Marley’s Everything’s Going to be Alright, became my anthem.

“Don’t worry ’bout a thing,” I cooed, thinking of the bub I was carrying and channelling all the positivity I could.

In November 2019, Brianna was born and immediately whisked off for testing.

A few hours later, I tearfully held her in my arms for the first time.

She seemed so healthy and strong.

The doctors ran endless tests on her and finally when she was five days old they did an MRI.

Adam nervously went to get the results and then burst back into my room in tears.

“They were wrong!” he cried.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He was openly weeping.

“They got it wrong. She doesn’t have PCH,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with her.”

Our relief was incredible. But I was also angry we’d been put through so much anguish.

She’s now a healthy, feisty three-year-old.

It terrifies me to think if we’d listened to the doctors and terminated then she wouldn’t be here today.

I now run my own crystal bowl healing business and tell all my clients Brianna’s miraculous story.

Since Brianna, I fell pregnant with twins but only one, Riley, survived.

People call me a warrior mum, but all I did was fight for my baby.

All mums would do the same.

The post Pregnant mum told to abort her baby appeared first on Now To Love.

Putting on the bathing suit, I felt overcome with both excitement and nerves.

“I haven’t done this in 30 years,” I said to the make-up artist.

“You’ll be fine,” they encouraged.

It was 2017, and I was about to step onto my first swimwear modelling set in a long time, joining four other models to pose for the Camilla Swimwear shoot by the beach in eastern Sydney.

From the age of 16, I’d been a freelance model, appearing in art and fashion shows on and off.

Standing at 5ft2, I was short compared to the industry ideal of 5ft10, but I’d still managed to make a decent income, which I’d supplemented by managing boutique clothing shops.

I searched for modelling jobs myself in the classifieds, though they became more and more scarce by the time I entered my thirties.

“You are getting older now,” some people in the industry said.

At 40, I was asked to play an ‘old woman’ in an ad for a foreign lottery.

After that, I realised that I needed to move on and pursued a career in hospitality, as well as renovating houses with my husband, Bob, 50.

Bob often complimented me on my appearance.

“You’re beautiful,” he said encouragingly.

Years passed and as my retirement age crept towards me, I started to wonder how I’d fill my time when I no longer worked.

So in 2017 when I came across an advert looking for extras in an upcoming blockbuster movie, Occupation, I thought it would be fun to give it a go.

“Fancy signing up?” I asked Bob.

“Sure,” he said.

Remarkably, the production company chose both of us and within a couple of days we were standing on set as extras.

The bright lights and cameras reminded me of my former years as a model, and I realised how much I missed them.

Then a few months later, an ad on TV flashed up for Silver Fox Management, a modelling agency that represented mature models.

Still revelling from my time in front of the camera as an extra, I decided to apply.

I sent my age, measurements and a few photos of myself, and days later, I received a call from the CEO, Brigette.

“We’d love to take you on,” she said.

Within two weeks, I was on my way to Sydney for the swimwear shoot.

Now, wearing my swimsuit and a beach cover up, I felt every bit myself as I posed for the photographer.

A few weeks later, the advert was put online and I felt an overwhelming sense of pride, seeing myself in it.

“The pics are stunning,” Bob marvelled.

Spurred on, I signed up for more jobs and was thrilled to be booked time and time again.

In the past six years, I’ve modelled for major household names, including Camilla and Marc, Sephora, The Iconic and Wittner Shoes, as part of International Women’s Day, proving beauty can still exist at any age.

I hope my story inspires other retirees to get out and do whatever they feel passionate about!

The post Retiree becomes a successful model in her 60s! appeared first on Now To Love.

My phone pinged with a message from my friend, Megan.

This little puppy needs a home, she said, before sending over some pics.

Like me, Megan ran an animal sanctuary.

I’d started mine in 2017 after I’d bought a plot of land and thought I’d use it to give unwanted farm animals a home.

I funded it with the profits I made running four pet supply stores.

My first animal was a lamb, Charlotte, who had a bad back leg. I named the farm, Charlotte’s Freedom Farm, after her.

Now, it was 2021 and the farm had grown to accommodate up to 200 animals.

Looking at the pictures Megan sent me of the adorable disabled pup on my phone, I decided that I had room for one more.

His beautiful brown eyes and his sticky out tongue, made my heart melt.

I called the breeders who told me Winston had been born with deformed front legs and a large part of his sternum missing.

I agreed to take him on and they dropped him over.

“Hi gorgeous boy,” I cooed, falling instantly in love.

Winston, or Winnie, as I started calling him, was a mixed breed and had beautiful big eyes and large floppy ears.

I took him to PawsAbility, a specialised orthotics and prosthetics service.

“We’ll get you moving in no time,” the owner, Janice, told us.

She took a mould of his chest and a few weeks later, Winnie had a cool set of wheels custom made just for him.

We fitted them on in the car park.

“Good boy!” I cried as he zoomed around happily.

I created his own Instagram page, @winnie_theroo because he looks like 
a kangaroo when he stands up on his hind legs.

Word soon spread, and I now have seven disabled dogs in my care.

Winnie and I wrote a kids’ book about them all called Winnie’s Warriors. We take it to the library to read to the local kids. We also visit

retirement villages and host school tours at the farm.

“Poor doggie,” strangers say sometimes when they see Winnie.

But within minutes they realise that they don’t need to feel sorry for him. Winnie and his friends are living their best lives on the farm.

If anything, Winnie’s 96,500 – and counting – followers on Instagram find him inspiring.

He cheers me up when I’m feeling sad, one person commented recently.

He teaches me not to sweat the small stuff in life, wrote another.

Winnie is proof that animals with disabilities can lead fulfilling and happy lives.

He’s my best friend and I’m proud of everything that he does.

The post Woman’s adorable disabled pup thinks he’s a roo! appeared first on Now To Love.

Zipping up my backpack, I felt a wave of fear.

Maybe tomorrow’s flight will get cancelled and I won’t have to go after all, I secretly hoped.

It was May 2022, and I’d quit my job in insurance to embark on a year-long journey around the world.

I loved to travel and had been fortunate enough over the years to visit 67 countries with friends and family.

This time though, I’d be travelling alone, which was pretty daunting as a woman with a disability.

Although I had full muscular control of my arms and legs, as a child, I found walking increasingly painful.

By age seven, even the walk from the kitchen to the bathroom was agonising.

Doctors couldn’t find
a diagnosis, but I quickly learnt to navigate life in
a wheelchair.

In developed countries, accessibility isn’t as much of an issue, but my first destination on my solo trip was Bali.

What if I can’t find an accessible restaurant or bathroom? I fretted.

Although I’d ensured my hotel wouldn’t be a problem, I couldn’t eliminate all risks.

“This has always been your dream,” my partner, Tony, 39, encouraged me, sensing my nerves, “and I’m only a phone call away.”

I’d been with Tony for 10 years and we wanted to travel together, but he’d just landed a dream job, also in insurance, which he didn’t want to give up.

For 20 years I’d been saving for the ultimate world trip and with borders re-opening after COVID, now was the perfect time.

The next day, Tony drove me to the airport.

As he wheeled me inside the terminal, the sense of panic was overwhelming.

All I had was my backpack of belongings, my chair, and a ticket to Bali.

“If it doesn’t work out, you can always come home,” Tony reassured me.

But I wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

While planning the journey, I’d contacted Guinness to see if there were any records associated with solo disability travel.

If you visit over 40 countries on your own in less than one year it will be a Guinness World Record, they’d responded.

I logged it in the back of my mind as a potential goal.

After kissing Tony goodbye, I wheeled through airport security and over to the boarding gate.

I can do this, I told myself.

Thankfully, I was given priority boarding.

At the plane’s entrance, a narrow aisle wheelchair was brought forward to take me to my seat.

It had straps designed to fasten the user from the shoulders down.

I couldn’t bear the thought of being that constricted.

“I’ll just crawl,”
I told the staff.

Although surprised, they understood, and
a crew member carried my bag while I shuffled on hands and knees to my seat.

No turning back now, I thought as the plane took off.

It felt like I was leaving my nerves behind on the tarmac.

I got in late to my hotel in Bali and fell straight asleep from exhaustion.

The next morning, 
I arranged for a driver to take me to see the island’s sights.

He drove me up a mountain to an ancient Hindu temple.

“I want to go to the very top,” I told the driver.

“The road doesn’t go that far,” he apologised.

It was disappointing.

I knew the view from the peak would be incredible.

Kindly, the driver spoke with two other local men nearby and the three of them carried me to the summit!

Rather than making me feel like a burden, they smiled the whole way.

As predicted, the view from the top was sensational.

I’m on top of the world, I thought happily.

From Bali, I set about arranging my next destination, the Philippines.

After that, I made the trip up as I went, staying in a country until I got bored
and moved on to the next.

Wherever I went, Africa, Europe, Asia, I was overcome by the kindness of strangers.

One of my favourite places was Uzbekistan due to the warmth of the people.

The hostel where I stayed was run by an older woman named Irena who cared for me like I was her daughter.

She made sure I had access to the shower and anything else I needed.

Although she didn’t speak English, we connected through gestures, and it was clear she saw me for more than my disability.

Six months into the trip, I’d visited enough countries
to make the world record a possibility.

I can do this, I promised myself.

Hopping through the small islands of the Caribbean quickly increased the tally.

By eight months, I’d visited 40 countries, but kept going.

I need extras in case Guinness don’t recognise some, I figured.

I headed to the South Pacific, visiting Vanuatu, Kiribati, Tonga, and Samoa.

I’ve well and truly achieved the record, I thought, but
I can’t stop!

My journey continued to Fiji, New Zealand then up to Honduras and Nicaragua.

Finally, by February 2023, I’d visited a total of 66 countries on my own.

I posted the evidence to Guinness and the following week received a very plain email.

Your record has been approved, it read. You’re the new Guinness World Record holder for most countries visited by a person in
a wheelchair in a year.

The feeling of achievement was amazing but returning home, I was conflicted.

“I want to be with you,” I told Tony, “but I also want to keep travelling.”

“I’ll come with you,” he replied.

Fortunately, his work allows him to work remotely and in May last year we both relocated to Argentina.

We’re already planning 
our next trip, but in the meantime, I’m writing 
a book about my travels.

I want to use my record as encouragement that a disability doesn’t have to stop you from getting out there and seeing the world.

Follow Renee on Instagram @wheelstravels

The post I broke the record for most countries visited in a year appeared first on Now To Love.

Tearing the foil off a bar of chocolate, I took a big bite.

Mmm, that’s better, I thought.

Being a single mum of three kids, life wasn’t easy and I comfort ate to cope.

I loved chips and choccy, but my biggest downfall was Coke – the full sugar version.

I drank several two litre bottles of it every day.

Shockingly, it meant I was swilling six litres per day – a whopping 42 litres per week!

Growing up, I’d always been chubby and got bullied at school.

Trying all the diets going, I’d lose weight only to pile it back on and more.

By the time I was 40, I was a size 26.

I hated looking in the mirror and avoided having my photo taken.

Instead of trendy gear, I wore what I called ‘granny clothes’ – stretchy bike pants and large T-shirts from Best and Less.

Worse still, I couldn’t run after my kids, Nathaniel, then 11, and twins Maddison and William, six, as, due to my weight, my knees were too weak.

‘You need a double knee replacement,’ said my doctor, but when I went for a consultation, the surgeon frowned.

‘You’re too heavy,’ he said, after getting me to step on the scales.

‘You weigh 154.3 kilos and have a BMI of 52.

You need to be under 99 kilos and have a BMI of 40. Come back in a year and I’ll reassess you.’

At home, I cried my eyes out, devastated.

My health was so poor I began to question if I’d ever see my beautiful kids grow up.

My self-esteem was at an all-time low.

Then an ad came on the TV for a meal replacement shake called The Lady Shake.

I’m going to try that, I vowed. I need to do it for me and the kids.

Ordering some sachets online, in August 2021 I began substituting brekkie and lunch with it.

As per the instructions, I added a couple of scoops of the powder to a bottle of water, then shook it up and drank it.

Not bad, I thought.

Vowing to quit drinking Coke cold turkey, I also completely changed my eating habits.

Before, I’d often go all day without eating, filling up on litres of Coke.

After the kids went to bed, I’d settle in front of the TV with family-sized chocolate bars, pizza, chips and more Coke.

Now, I’d have a shake for breakfast and lunch, then for dinner I’d have a healthy meal, such as meat and veg or a stir fry, following recipes on The Lady Shake’s website.

It almost killed me quitting Coke, but I was determined to do it. Between meals, I’d drink water – up to three litres a day – to fill me up.

I didn’t really get hungry, but it was hard to kick the emotional eating.

When the kids played up, I longed to guzzle some ice cold cola or sink my teeth into a bar of chocolate but somehow, I resisted.

I also went onto The Lady Shake’s support page on Facebook to record my weight and get tips and advice from other women, which was really helpful.

To get moving, I began walking the twins to school every day, and doing dance workouts on YouTube.

My favourite one was ‘growwithjo’ as her routines were fun and not too strenuous.

I’m losing weight in my lounge room! I thought, following the moves.

The weight started to fall off me.

A few months later, a friend walked right past me in the street.

‘Oh my goodness, is that you Selina?’ she said, when I stopped her. ‘I didn’t recognise you. You look amazing.’

By then I’d lost 30 kilos. And incredibly, I’d completely kicked my addiction to cola!

Once I had a sip of some, and it tasted so vile I had to spit it out.

‘How could I ever have drunk that?’ I cried.

Kicking the habit also meant I had more cash in my pocket – I was saving at least $50 each week!

Within a year I’d lost 60 kilos. At 173cm in height, I’d dropped from 154.3 kilos to 94.3, going from a size 26 to a 16.

Gone were the granny clothes – I could finally buy my outfits off the rack.

The compliments came in thick and fast.

‘You look incredible,’ friends told me.

My kids were really proud too. ‘You look fantastic, Mum!’ they said.

Best of all, I could run around after them a lot more easily, taking them to the playground and the park whenever they wanted to go.

Soon my appointment with the knee surgeon came around – a year since the last one.

When he looked at me, his jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe I’d lost so much weight since I’d seen him.

‘Congratulations,’ he said, weighing me.

Today I’m waiting to have the surgery done and have a new target weight of 85 kilos.

With a combination of healthy eating, shakes and exercise, I know I can reach my goal.

I’m telling my story to give hope to other women struggling with their weight. I want them to know they’re not alone.

If I can do it, they can do it too!

For more on The Lady Shake and how to ‘shake back your life’, visit theladyshake.com.au.

Plus! Check out some delicious healthy meal ideas at theladyshake.com.au/blog/recipes/

The post I swapped Coke for shakes and lost 60 kilos appeared first on Now To Love.

Pulling into my driveway after a long day at work, I couldn’t wait to get my comfies on and chill.

It has been a long day, I thought.

But my dreams of a relaxed evening were suddenly scuppered when I suddenly noticed a two-metre-high metal pole sticking out of the ground by the side of my home.

“What the hell is that?” I said out loud.

I parked, got out of my car, and went over to the pole to move it out of the way.

But when I grabbed hold of it and tried to pull it up, I realised it was cemented into the ground.

Is this some sort of joke? I thought.

It seemed like a lot of effort for a prank.

I looked around me, but there was nobody about.

My neighbours car wasn’t in the driveway so he wasn’t in.

Our houses looked identical, so I thought that maybe he was putting up a carport and whoever he’d employed to do it had got confused.

The next day, I went to speak to him.

“Do you know why that pole is there?” I asked him.

“Nah, I just thought you were putting up a carport,” he responded.

Realising neither of us was responsible, he was as dumbfounded as I was.

I left a note on the pole, asking whoever put it up to call me.

Have you experienced anything strange or unexplainable? If so, get in touch. We pay cash! Contact: Take5@aremedia.com.au

Then I uploaded pics of it on my Facebook, hoping we’d get some answers if people shared it.

A teacher colleague, Ali, who lives in the same area, suggested I put it on the community page, so I did.

Suddenly, there were loads of comments.

Have you called the pole-ice, one user said.

I find this post offensive, could you please remove it, said another.

The next day, I was contacted by a journalist from the local paper, The Bay of Plenty Times, who’d seen the post.

The story went in the paper and suddenly it went viral.

People from across the world started messaging me about the pole.

Then a camera crew turned up, and suddenly, I was on the TV news.

This is crazy, I thought.

I couldn’t believe there was such a frenzy over a mystery pole.

A week after my random find, I received a message on Facebook from a fencing installation company asking me to call them.

He confirmed the pole had been installed in the wrong place and they’d only realised after seeing it on the news.

“We had a good chuckle, until we realised it was us who had installed it,” he said. “I’m sorry for the mess up.”

“It’s fine, at least you gave the nation a good chuckle,” I replied.

Arriving home from work later that day, the pole was gone and the hole was patched up.

Two guys from the company were stood waiting for me.

“Sorry again,” they said, handing me a bottle of bubbles.

Curious about what the pole was for, I asked them.

“A gate,” they told me.

I laughed.

“Why would anyone want to put a gate there?” I asked.

The position made no sense.

I’m just glad the mystery has now be solved and the pole has been removed.

The post I came home to find a random POLE in my driveway appeared first on Now To Love.