I had one of those moments in the shower last week.
You know the ones. When you're supposed to be washing your hair or shaving your legs, but instead your brain decides it's the perfect time to reflect on your entire life.
I'd been to the hairdresser the day before. More than $200 later, my hair was looking lovely, but I'd be back again in six weeks.
Meanwhile, there I was in the shower with my $10 razor, looking at the little cuts on my legs and thinking that, given it was Halloween, I was doing a pretty good job of creating my own horror scene.
And then I started thinking about why I went into business in the first place.
When I was younger, getting teased at school, one of the things I really wanted was to have my legs waxed.
Not a new car. Not designer clothes. Just the luxury of not being teased for having black hairy legs.
As a university student, I couldn't afford it. But when I started working full-time, it was one of the first little things I could finally do for myself.
Then life happened.
Marriage, children, changing family circumstances and the usual business of managing a household. There were times when money was tighter, and the little extras were the first things to go.
And somewhere along the way, looking after myself became something I had to justify.
Fast-forward to December 2019, when I decided to become a SeneGence distributor.
At SeneGence events, we're often asked why we joined.
The most common answer seems to be for the product discount. Some women then discover the business opportunity, start building teams, earn recognition and qualify for incentive trips.
And some absolutely love that side of it.
But I was different.
I joined for the business. One hundred per cent.
At the time, my husband had been through a serious health experience, and I'd found myself thinking about what would happen if our family suddenly had to rely on my income alone.
We had two children, a mortgage and all the responsibilities that come with family life.
I loved my accounting career, and I still do, but it was a choice to only work part-time once I became a Mum. But I wanted another source of income. Something I could build alongside my job that might provide a little extra financial security.
That was my reason.
Not the overseas trips. Not the recognition. Not the opportunity to stand on a stage.
I wanted the business to earn money.
But there was another reason SeneGence caught my attention.
Skincare.
After my husband's experience with skin cancer, looking after our skin was very much on my mind. We were particularly conscious of covering up and wearing sunscreen.
I'd also reached my 40s, when looking after ageing skin was becoming more important to me.
For years, I'd purchased my skincare through my trusted beautician in Alice Springs. But after leaving Alice, I no longer had easy access to those products. I'd switched to buying skincare from Priceline, only to become frustrated when the products I wanted weren't always available.
So I started looking for alternatives.
And that's when I discovered SeneGence.
A lipstick that supposedly stayed put? Interesting!
An anti-ageing skincare range with ingredients I'd never heard of, including volcanic ash? Well, that certainly appealed to the girl who'd once dreamed of becoming a meteorologist!
A distributor discount and the opportunity to earn some extra income by sharing products with friends and family?
I was interested.
In fact, I'd never even tried LipSense when I signed up.
There was an offer for a free lip kit, I'd done some research to make sure the company was legitimate, and I decided to give it a go.
What I hadn't fully understood was the multi-level marketing business model or how negatively some people viewed the industry.
Perhaps I was a little naive. But Mum had been involved with Nutrimetics years earlier, so the idea of selling beauty products wasn't completely foreign to me.
And on 30 December 2019, I became a SeneGence distributor.
I didn't know whether the lipstick would live up to its reputation, whether I'd love the skincare or whether I'd manage to build a profitable business.
But I knew why I wanted to try.
And somewhere along the way, something unexpected happened.
I made friends.
Real friendships with women I probably would never have met otherwise.
I hadn't joined because I was looking for friends. In fact, I don't think I'd realised how much I was missing that connection until it came along.
I've travelled to events, learned about skincare and makeup, challenged myself to do things I wouldn't previously have considered and met some wonderful people.
Those experiences matter to me.
But here's the part that's a little harder to admit.
Nearly seven years later, I still want the business to do what I originally joined it to do.
Make a profit.
Not just sales. Not a discount on products. Not stock sitting in a cupboard or points towards the next qualification.
Actual money left over.
And that's where I've found myself questioning what success is supposed to look like.
I see women achieving ranks, earning trips, building teams and celebrating milestones. They're doing things that work for them, and I respect the effort involved.
Sometimes I look at those achievements and think I'd quite like to have a rank beside my name too.
But when I really question why, it's not because I want another title.
It's because I want people to know I've been serious about my business all along.
That I haven't just been turning up to events as an enthusiastic customer or a personal shopper.
I've been trying to build something.
The trouble is, I don't necessarily want to build it the way other people do.
I enjoy my accounting career. I have my handmade business, Buttons by Brooke. I have a family, a home and a life that I don't want to spend every waking hour promoting products or chasing the next qualification.
And I've learned that I don't enjoy approaching people simply because they might be interested in joining a business.
That's not me.
I like helping people understand their skin. I like explaining why a product might suit them, or why they might not need it at all. I like helping women feel comfortable with a simple skincare routine or trying a little makeup.
I want people to trust that when I recommend something, it's because I genuinely believe it could help them.
And with the cost of living what it is, I also understand that beauty products are not always at the top of the household budget.
They're not always at the top of mine either.
Which brings me back to that shower.
Because at almost 50, with a professional career and two little businesses, I'm still sometimes standing there wondering whether I can justify spending money on myself.
A facial. A leg wax. A little something that makes life easier or helps me feel good.
Not because I need any of those things to be happy or presentable.
And certainly not because there's anything wrong with hairy legs.
In fact, my six-year-old niece recently pointed out that her dad and I look alike.
I assumed she meant because we're siblings.
Nope.
Apparently, we both have hairy arms.
Thank you for that observation, sweetheart.
Children really do have a gift for keeping us humble.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that my original ambition hasn't really changed.
I still want a little financial breathing room.
I want to be able to spend some money on myself without mentally calculating what else that money could have paid for.
I want my businesses to contribute something to our household rather than simply taking more time, energy and money out of it.
And I want to do that while being helpful, being genuine and still having a life outside of work.
Perhaps that doesn't sound particularly ambitious compared with the big success stories we often hear.
But I've decided it doesn't need to.
We all have different reasons for starting something of our own.
For some, it's financial freedom or the opportunity to leave their job. For others, it's recognition, travel or building a team.
For some of us, it's a little extra money, a creative outlet, meaningful connections or simply having something that belongs to us.
And sometimes those reasons change as life changes.
I'm grateful for the friendships and experiences my beauty business has brought into my life. I wouldn't want to lose those.
But I'm also learning that it's okay to acknowledge what hasn't worked, question what comes next and define success on my own terms.
On 30 December, I'll celebrate seven years as a SeneGence distributor. And perhaps that's the perfect opportunity to stop, take stock and decide what I want this little business to look like in 2027.
Not necessarily a fresh start, because I don't want to dismiss everything I've built or learned along the way.
More of a reset.
A chance to keep what I love, reconsider what isn't working and move forward with a clearer idea of what success means to me.
I don't need an overseas trip to prove I've built something worthwhile.
I don't need a title to prove I've been trying.
What I would really like is a business that earns a genuine profit, helps people and fits comfortably into the life I already love.
And if it means I can book a leg wax without feeling guilty about the cost?
Well, that would be a pretty good return on investment, wouldn't it?
Be real, not perfect. Be Kind. Be Brave. Be Yourself.