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Yes, we’re talking about dating apps.

Navigating the online dating scene can be daunting, but there’s no time like the present to test out which app (or multiple apps) are right for you.

So below we’ve rounded up the best dating apps available for over 50s in Australia.

The best dating apps for over 50s in Australia

1. eHarmony

eHarmony was launched two whole decades ago, long before dating apps were a common thing and they’re now the #1 most trusted dating app in Australia!

It was the first site to introduce an algorithm to dating, and within its first 10 years, more than 33 million people used the platform.

The company’s leading stats aren’t anything to sneeze at, they’ve helped more than two million people find love, and claim to be the site most likely to lead to a happy relationship.

They boast the highest quality dating pool and with 10 million users across the globe, it’s time to dive right in and find your match.

And if you’re wondering, ‘Is eHarmony good for 50-year-olds?’, the answer is yes! The dating app has built a strong reputation with singles over 50, boasting that every 14 minutes someone on eHarmony finds love.

Start your love journey for FREE today, with eHarmony.

2. Elite Singles

Powered by one of Europe’s “leading online matchmaking providers”, Elite Singles is designed for Aussies looking for a “long-term commitment”.

Rather than having to wade through countless profiles, Elite Singles uses its matchmaking process to narrow your dating pool to people you will actually be compatible with on a meaningful level.

Elite Singles also regularly monitors its users’ profiles.

“We curate the site by verifying profiles, automatically removing inactive members, and proactively removing users we suspect are not serious.”

SIGN UP HERE

3. Hinge

Think of Hinge as the less swipe-happy version of popular dating app, Tinder. Hinge focuses on personality by asking users to answer three questions about themselves, which are then refreshed with new questions each month.

It also uses a Nobel Prize-winning algorithm to help determine your best match.

Free members can only send a number of “likes” per day, meaning they have to be more thoughtful about finding the right person.

Further, the ‘Date From Home’ feature “enables users to easily signal when they are ready for a virtual date and transition from messaging, to meeting digitally for the first time to get to know each other better.”

SIGN UP HERE

4. RSVP

Having first launched in 1997, RSVP has been connecting singles for over 20 years – so, they must be doing something right.

While the site isn’t age-specific, its users average at 35+ years of age. They also have specific RSVP sites for both mature dating and seniors, catering to older demographics.

RSVP offers one of the most specific search capabilities of any site too, so you can look up members according to education or even eye colour – for those who know they have a “type”.

SIGN UP HERE

5. Concha

Concha focuses on building real connections, they want users to talk before they text. Meaning it’s perfect for those who prefer face-to-face interaction but still want to date online.

“Once you’ve matched with a potential love interest, you’ll be able to call them (at the right time), or send them a voice message.”

SIGN UP HERE

Related articles:

• 5 tips from a dating expert that prove you’re never too old to try dating online
• 5 tips for finding love with online dating sites

The post Looking for your ‘appily ever after? These are the best dating apps and sites for over 50s appeared first on Now To Love.

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“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.

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“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.

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“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.

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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.

Please fill in your full name, email address, residential address and phone number along with your answers to the puzzles you wish to enter.

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Steering my pram into the bustling cafe, I took a seat.

“Better get this little one fed,” I said to the other new mums I was with.

I scooped up my son, Theodore, six weeks, and fumbled for the hem of my top to discreetly yank it up.

My loose-fitting maternity T-shirt was designed to keep me covered in moments like this, but the functionality of it – minimal at best – came at the cost of fashion.

As Theo fed, I glanced around at my friends and noticed they were wearing the same type of go-to uniform – leggings and baggy T-shirts.

“Imagine a nursing top that looked great, made feeding easy and guaranteed you wouldn’t accidentally flash your boobs,” I said to the girls.

“I’d take one in every colour,” one mum chimed.

“I’d pay good money for that,” said another.

Everyone agreed comfort, discretion and style didn’t seem to exist for breastfeeding mums.

I wondered if there might be a niche for a fashionable nursing garment to do double duty as maternity wear.

Before falling pregnant with Theo, I’d had a great career in banking spanning 13 years. I loved the busy days and late nights and the thrill of solving complex problems.

My husband, Matthew, 34, was supportive at home but kept busy in his job as an engineer.

Without my career, I had no idea what to do with my spare time.

“I feel like my brain is turning to mush,” I told Matthew one day.

Coffee with the mums had left me feeling inspired, and I started sketching out designs for better breast-feeding tops.

I wanted to create a trendy fitted T-shirt that made breast-feeding easy with zips that allowed for easy access.

“Just have fun with it,” Matthew encouraged. “See where it takes you.”

His words struck a chord.

With a more relaxed approach, I took my idea to a pattern maker who helped me develop early T-shirt samples.

I named the business MylkSociety, and between feeds and nappy changes I worked on getting it off the ground.

Finally, in November 2019, I launched the range online.

Despite telling people about it on social media. sales were slow and when Covid lockdowns hit in 2020, I didn’t get a single order.

It was disheartening but I persevered.

I came up with a new slogan: Breastfeed with ease – anywhere, anytime, especially at home!

Suddenly, online orders went through the roof. The new campaign had worked!

My 100 per cent Australian made T-shirts sold for $69 each, and incredibly, in the first year, sales reached six figures.

I was gobsmacked!

In time, it became a multi-million dollar business.

Despite the success, I kept my job in banking but extended my maternity leave to 20 months to nurture it more.

That came in handy when I fell pregnant again with my second child, Charlotte, who arrived in 2021.

This year, to focus more on motherhood and my career, I sold MylkSociety but on the same day I signed the deal, I was made redundant.

I took it as a positive sign I was ready to step into the next version of me.

Today, in between juggling two kids, I have an online business where I coach, consult and guide women who are building their own businesses. My aim is help women acheive financial freedom.

Sure, the journey is sometimes unpredictable, but I’ve learned a healthy dose of fun – and the right mindset – goes a long way. 

For more on Karina’s business, visit www.ecomco.com.au

The post My breastfeeding idea made me a millionaire! 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.

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.

We know the cost of filling your trolley has gone up. So, Take 5 is giving 3 lucky readers the chance to win $1000 cash each to hit the shops.

Simply purchase a copy of Take 5 issue 8,9,10 or 11 and Lucky Break issue 7,8,9 or 10, fill in the coupon and enter your details below for your chance to win!

Entries close at 11:59pm AEST on April 5, 2024.

Good luck!

Have a question about our Puzzles or Competitions? Click this link to view our Frequently Asked Questions

The post TAKE 5 – FILL YOUR TROLLEY! appeared first on Now To Love.

Make sure you have a copy of Take 5 Issue 7!

Please fill in your full name, email address, residential address and phone number along with your answers to the puzzles you wish to enter.

Kindly Note:

-You can only enter once online for each issue.

-The online coupon must be completed in one session and submitted when you have answered all the puzzles you wish to enter.

-The magazine cover, barcode or a receipt is required as proof of purchase to claim all prizes over the value of $250.

Entries for Australia and New Zealand must be submitted by 11:59pm AEST March 8, 2024.

Good Luck!

Having trouble with entering online? Try this link

Have a question about our Puzzles or Competitions? Click this link to view our Frequently Asked Questions

The post Take 5 Issue 7 Online Entry Coupon 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.

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.

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.

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The post How to look after sensitive skin appeared first on Now To Love.

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The post 6 ways to prep your skin this summer appeared first on Now To Love.