Mastering My Destiny

I'm Tash. Recently joined the 50 club, and reside on the beautiful Northern Beaches of Sydney.

A while ago, I walked away from a high performing sales role, a role that I'd strived to achieve but no longer felt sustainable.

The Sunday afternoon heaviness, as the new week approached.
The constant negotiation between work and wellbeing.
The exhaustion had become expected.
Until I realised it wasn't a phase, it was the pattern.

Recently, I found myself back in hospitality while taking the time to build something with meaning and longevity for myself.

What surprised me was how differently I experienced it this time around.
It's no longer something I see as forever.
Instead, it's become a season that allows me to be creative, connect with people from all walks of life, and bring more of myself to work each day.

Now I'm building something that has all of that, plus the location and time freedom that neither of those had.

I write about what it actually looks like to design a life deliberately. Not the version you fall into.
The one you keep choosing.

If you've ever made a decision that didn't make sense to everyone else, but felt right for you, you'll understand exactly what I mean.

Follow along. DMs are always open.

Something I've been sitting with after watching a conversation between two people I really respect in this space.

One of them said something I haven't been able to shake.

He said he doesn't think it's the failures themselves that stop us. It's the shame about them.
The real and perceived judgment from other people when we fail.

That's what makes us retreat.
That's what makes us hold back.

Because here's what he noticed about little kids.
Failure frustrates them.
It embarrasses them sometimes.
But it doesn't stop them.

A human being is an unstoppable goal-attaining machine until we learn to be ashamed of our failures.

And the older we get, the longer the list of things we tried that didn't work.
Business ventures.
Career pivots.
Relationships
Risks we took that people in our life quietly noted.

And each time we felt that judgment, real or imagined, we pulled back a little more.

Not because we stopped believing in ourselves exactly. But because we started protecting ourselves from the audience.

Starting again stops feeling like a real option.
Not because the path isn't there. But because the last version of us is still in the room.
The one who tried before. The one who drew a quiet conclusion about what failure meant about them personally.

That version doesn't leave easily.

He admitted it himself. He feared the judgment. And then one day he decided — screw it. I'm doing it anyway.

I keep thinking about what that moment looks like for the people I talk to.

If this is landing somewhere, I'd love to know where you recognise yourself in it.

If you've ever stood somewhere familiar and felt like you were outgrowing it without quite knowing what comes next, this is for you.

There's a point where it stops being about working harder and starts being about asking better questions.
Is this actually the pace I want?
The ceiling I'm willing to accept?
The life I'm creating by default?

And once you see it, it's hard to unsee.

Some people push it down and go back to what's familiar.
Others start quietly exploring.
No drama. No big announcement.
Just a question that won't quite leave.

If you're in that second group, I'd love to hear what's on your mind. Drop a comment or send me a message.

I pulled this card tonight after a long day.💫

I am compassionate toward myself.

Honestly? This one still stops me.

Because for most of my life I was, and still am, far better at extending kindness to others than I ever was to myself.
Pushing through when I should have rested.
Criticising the pace when I should have acknowledged the effort.

Something I've been sitting with lately is that this one is harder than it looks.

Especially for women who have spent decades showing up for everyone else first.

Being genuinely kind to yourself, not as a treat, but as a practice is one of the harder things to actually do consistently. 🧘‍♀️

The card asks a good question on the back. What areas of your life would benefit most from your own self-compassion right now?

I'd love to know yours.👇🏽

💫This morning I had a photo reminder from ten years ago of my two little nieces.

It stopped me. Time moves so fast.

I keep coming back to how wonderful last weekend was. So many moments of gratitude.
My mum, my family, the beach, the table full of people I love.And the quiet realisation that I was there, fully, without guilt.

One of the reasons I started this business was to have the freedom and flexibility to be present for the people I love. ❤️

And as the weeks fly by, between working and building and being a wife, I find myself coming back to the words on a sticky note on my desk. Written as my future self, talking back to me.

"I made the decision.
I overcame my fears.
I found the right vehicle.
I made sacrifices.
And I'm here, instead of wondering, what if."

I'm 50. Still figuring it out. But I made the call, instead of wondering "what if?"
And I'm learning so much along the way.🙏

Sydney to the Gold Coast and back.
Laptop in the bag, mom at the other end.
Still getting used to saying: “the business came with me”

For Mother’s Day. For my mom 💖

One of the quietest promises I made to myself when I started building this business was that I’d never again have to choose between being there for the people I love and building financial security for myself.

My mom lives on the Gold Coast. My “wifey” flew in from Melbourne. My brother and his family came for dinner Saturday night — the whole table, the kids, the puppy, the chaos, the good wine. (The dinner itself was not documented. The wine was🤭. Maybe I need to rethink the priorities.)

A few business calls, an afternoon in the kitchen.Turns out, I can do both. Then fully present for the rest of it. Beach. Dinners. That ridiculous Sunday sunset. My mom’s joy 💝

Monday night I was back on the ferry into Sydney, Harbour Bridge at dusk, thinking: this is what I said yes to.
Not a bigger calendar.
A bigger life.
And my husband waiting at the wharf for me 💓

I’m 50. I’m figuring this out as I go.
But I’m going, and that feels like something worth sharing.

If any of this resonates, drop a ✈️ or send me a message.

🍇 I came back from this weekend away, walked into my yoga studio, and there it was on the mirror.
“Some beautiful paths can’t be discovered without getting lost.” — Erol Ozan

How poignant.

I’ve taken a few wrong turns.
Started things that didn’t work out.
Talked myself out of things I probably shouldn’t have.
Spent longer than I’d like wondering why the path felt so unclear.

What I didn’t understand then is that the getting lost was part of it.

Every false start, every detour, every “that’s not quite right” was all information.
It was all pointing somewhere.

I think that’s true of most things worth building.

If you’re in the middle of a detour right now, you’re not behind. You might just be finding the path.

I’m quietly building something with people who are ready for this next chapter.

If that’s you, come and say hi. 👋🏽

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.

We wait for the big moment. The sign. The clear road ahead. The version of ourselves that finally feels ready.

But the moments that have actually shifted things for me? Almost none of them were dramatic. A conversation I nearly talked myself out of. A decision made on an ordinary Tuesday with no fanfare. A small, quiet yes to something that scared me a little.

Destiny isn’t built in grand gestures. It’s built in the accumulation of small choices that nobody else sees you make.

Which means it’s not reserved for people with better timing or fewer doubts. It’s being decided right now — in how you spend the next hour, what you say yes to this week, what you stop waiting for.

What’s a small decision you’ve been sitting on? I’m genuinely curious.