This is not a story of revenge. Nor is it a story of regret.

It's a story of losing love but finding myself. This is my story of the healing power of food.

Food is a love language for me, and was also a way for me to prove my worth—to make up for a long held self-perception that I alone was not enough, that I needed to serve and cook to be worthy of my place and approval. I would often spend all day in the kitchen preparing decadent meals to show people that I care and prove myself worthy of their affections, sometimes people I barely knew or even liked.

In the past few months of Sydney's second lockdown, I have found myself making beautiful dishes that I'd never imagined cooking for one person… me. Tortellini in brodo, wonton noodle soup, potato gnocchi, 24-hr ragu.

At its core, this kind of cooking has all been part of me accepting a few too long ignored truths. That I can give myself exactly what I need. That I am worthy of my own love and care (and cooking). That I don't need to go to great lengths or cook extravagant meals for others to earn their love.

That I am, simply, enough.

This is my HEARTBAKE. A memoir of my journey of overcoming heartache and deep diving into self-discovery. An experience that is not unique, but universal. A story of losing love but finding yourself. Of discovering the healing power of food.