My Story

The Road to Here.

Photography may not have worked out as a career, but I can whip up sick profile pics in an instant 🤙🏻

I've always been a creative kid.

If you gave me a box of Lego, I wouldn’t follow the instructions—I’d build something completely different. I wasn’t interested in what was expected; I wanted to make things my way.

One of the first things I bought with my own money was a camera—an Olympus E-620 DSLR (it was so cool, it had a flippy screen…in like 2009!). But, growing up as a '90s kid in a small country town in Victoria, pursuing creativity wasn’t an option.

"Photography? Pfft. You can’t make a living doing that."

I heard it over and over again.

So, I buried that part of myself.

Drifting Through a Path That Wasn’t Mine

High school was rough. I wasn’t a girly girl. I didn’t fit the mould. Coming from a woggy background, where “girls should wear dresses and play with dolls,” my existence alone was enough to shake the family tree.

It wore me down.

I was depressed, unmotivated. My grades suffered. When it came time for university, my ENTER score was garbage. Uni had been drilled into us as a big fucking deal, and I didn’t get in.

I felt like a failure.

(Spoiler alert: I went back years later, graduated, and even ended up teaching at a university—so yeah, I can tell you firsthand: it’s not that big a deal.)

But back then? The closest thing to a creative career I could find was hospitality.

So, I became a chef.

The Burnout That Broke Me

I landed an apprenticeship at one of Melbourne’s top restaurants.

For a while, it consumed me. It became my identity.

But the culture? Brutal. The industry glorifies suffering—minimum 80-hour weeks, toxic environments, burnout masked as “commitment.” I ignored the cracks forming inside me until one day, everything collapsed.

I was hollow. I didn’t know who I was anymore.

It felt like the saturation and vibrance had been sucked out of the world—like I was just a shadow walking around, existing rather than living.

And then, after one particularly bad night out, drowning my exhaustion in alcohol, I woke up and thought:

This isn’t my life. This is just the life I’ve let happen to me.

So, I changed everything.

Rebuilding From the Rubble

I went back to uni.

I studied Japanese and Creative & Professional Writing. I traveled, lived overseas, met people who expanded my world.

But looking back, I realized something—I had never actually dealt with the mess I left behind.

I’d just swept it into a neat little pile and walked away.

And then? Covid hit.

The Click That Changed Everything

Suddenly, I was back in my childhood bedroom, no job, no direction—just way way waaay too much time to think. And I finally tripped over that neat little pile, that had morphed into a small mountain.

So, I read. I watched. I dove down YouTube rabbit holes.

First, it was Matt D’Avella and minimalism.

Then, Peter McKinnon and photography.

Then, Nathaniel Drew and mental clarity.

And then—Dan Koe.

If you’ve read my stuff, you know I mention Dan a lot. Because his words were the click I needed.

This guy was talking about writing online, building an ecosystem, making a living from creative work. And it wasn’t some distant, gatekept world like in the publishing industry, which just seemed like the hospitality industry —but with more paper involved. Now it was right there—one decision away.

And that’s when it hit me:

I didn’t need permission to create.

I didn’t need a degree or a job title or someone else’s approval.

I could just start.

That realization changed everything.

The Road to Here

It’s been five years since that moment. Five years of learning—about myself, about creativity, about building online.

Now, I’m here, sharing my journey, showing up every day, doing the work.

If you’re reading this and something inside you is stirring—some voice whispering that maybe you’re meant for more—I want you to listen to it.

Because you don’t need permission either.

You just need to start.

And that’s why I’m here.

I’m not just sharing my journey for the sake of it—I’m sharing it to show you what’s possible.

To help you cut through the noise, avoid the mistakes I’ve made (and continue to make—because no one is perfect and we are all learning as we go), and to build something you are proud of—on your own terms.

If you’ve ever felt stuck, lost, or like your creative dreams were out of reach, I get it. I’ve been there. But I also know this:

You don’t need permission.

You don’t need the perfect plan.

You just need to start.

So let’s build. Let’s create. Let’s carve out our own paths—one step at a time.

My mission is make that a little easier for you by reading these posts.

To help you take action, then to grow into something great.

I’ll leave it there.

Until next time,

Melanie