Health, well-being, lifestyle — Gold Coast quarterly.
Our comprehensive wellness collection covers essential topics that matter to your daily life.
From practical nutrition advice to understanding how to achieve lasting physical, mental and emotional well-being, these resources are designed to help you make informed decisions.
Whether navigating family relationships during challenging times, learning to establish healthy boundaries, or making informed decisions about medical procedures, wellness is about empowerment through knowledge.
Beauty experts reveal what's really happening when treatments claim to "tighten fascia" — and which procedures actually work.
By Justine Williams Somewhere in your forties, something shifts. If you are not knee-deep in raising children or standing at the peak of your career, you may find yourself quietly planting the seeds for the next chapter of life. And while the magic that unfolds in your fifties deserves its own story, the fabulous forties bring a transformation all of their own. Turning 40 can feel like being welcomed into a secret society of women who finally know themselves. Along with the wisdom comes a few unexpected gifts. Your chin may suddenly sprout a stubborn dark hair that appears overnight, your memory might occasionally play hide- and-seek, and your body begins to change in ways your wardrobe never anticipated. Jeans feel tighter, aches appear without invitation, and yet something surprising happens. You start choosing your battles differently. By this stage of life, many women realise they no longer have the energy to pretend. The wine nights with draining company begin to lose their appeal. Shoes that look beautiful but feel impossible to walk in quietly make their way to the donation pile. Even the small rituals we once tolerated, endless small talk or saying yes to every invitation, begin to fade. There is a growing awareness that time and energy are valuable resources. Where once we might have chased spontaneity at any cost, the idea of a good meal, a comfortable chair and a peaceful evening can feel far more appealing. It is not about becoming boring. It is about becoming selective. The French often speak about effortless elegance, dressing and then removing one thing to create balance. The same philosophy can be applied to life. Emotional trimming, social pruning and healthy boundaries become less about restriction and more about clarity. In your forties, putting yourself first no longer feels selfish. It feels necessary. Many women describe hearing their inner voice more clearly during this decade. Self- esteem strengthens, confidence grows and there is a quiet understanding that perfection is overrated. Laughter replaces pressure, genuine connection matters more than obligation, and authenticity becomes the new standard. This stage of life is not about losing who you were. It is about embracing who you have become. The forties invite you to stop performing and start living, to choose joy with intention and to recognise the wiser, more radiant version of yourself that has been quietly waiting to emerge.
What an 85-year-old’s boredom taught me about what men really need. My dad said something the other night that stopped me mid-sentence. We were talking about nothing in particular, when he announced: “I’m bored.” It wasn’t a complaint. My father doesn’t complain much. It was a statement of fact, delivered by an 85-year-old man with good eyesight, good hands, and better stories than most people have sense to listen to. A man who used to run Rotary events, who fielded phone calls from members at all hours, who was always organising this or that. I’d never heard him use that word before. Bored. It sat between us like something broken. I started rattling off suggestions—things to fill the hours, activities different from his very regular routine. But I was missing the point. It wasn’t about doing something. It was about the shape his life had lost. Rotary had given him more than a project list. It had given him people who needed him, a phone that rang, a reason to be somewhere on Thursday nights. At some stage, the commitment got too much for his age, so he stepped back. The shed closed quietly. And now he was bored in a way that no hobby could fix. That’s when someone on a local Facebook page made an observation. A bloke had just moved from Sydney, posted looking to make friends, and within hours came a suggestion that stood out from all the others: join a Men’s Shed. I’d heard of the Sheds before—mostly in passing, the way you hear about things without really knowing what they are. But sitting there listening to my dad, I started digging. What I found wasn’t just a solution for him. It was something I’d been missing in my thinking about loneliness, about men, about what happens when the structure of your life falls away. WHAT A MEN’S SHED ACTUALLY IS Here’s what a Men’s Shed actually is: part workshop, part gathering place, entirely unpretentious. Walk in and you might see men restoring bicycles, fixing lawn mowers, or building furniture for local schools. You’ll see younger blokes learning from older ones, picking up skills and something about life in the process. But you’ll also see tea-bags, coffee cups, and a comfortable area where men can sit and talk—no agenda, no obligation. You can drop in for a cuppa. You can stay for a project. You can do both or neither. The point isn’t productivity. The point is presence. As one veteran shedder put it: “Down at the shed, we’ve got blokes who come in because it’s the only social interaction they get. Apart from Meals on Wheels or saying G’day to the shopkeeper when they buy their morning paper. And you know what? That’s bloody alright. That’s what the shed’s for.” It sounds small. It isn’t. THE COST OF LONELINESS Loneliness operates quietly. It doesn’t announce itself. It whispers that you’re fine with your own company—which you are, up to a point. Then it suggests you don’t need what you used to have. Then it becomes true. The research is blunt about the cost. Isolation carries mortality risks comparable to smoking. It’s not metaphorical damage. It’s the kind that shows up in hospital records and coroner’s reports. But there’s something else happening at the Sheds, something the statistics don’t quite capture. Men don’t often admit they need their mates. We’re taught to be self-sufficient, to sort ourselves out, to not make a fuss. But in a shed-with the noise of tools, with something to do with your hands, with permission to sit quietly or talk endlessly-that teaching gets quietly overridden. Connection happens. Not forced. Not therapeutic. Just… there. It keeps the wheels turning. It’s what some researchers call “fella-friendship”- kind of connection men build shoulder-to-shoulder, rather than face-to-face. WHAT I DIDN’T EXPECT TO FIND What strikes me now is how many versions of this problem I see around me. There’s my dad, structured out of structure. There’s the bloke from Sydney, starting over in a new place, needing to know where his people are. There’s the man isolated by choice or circumstance, ticking over on Meals on Wheels and morning paper transactions, waiting for permission to sit somewhere and belong. And there’s me. I didn’t realise what I was looking for when I started researching the Sheds. I thought I was trying to fix my dad. I was actually noticing something about myself – that I’d stopped paying attention to the men around me, that I hadn’t thought about what happens when a man loses his anchor, that I’d assumed boredom was a personal failure rather than a sign of a life missing something real. The Shed works because it doesn’t pretend to be therapy. It’s not trying to save anyone. It’s just a place where men can show up, make a cuppa, have a chin-wag, maybe build something, and know that showing up is enough. That the company matters. That they’re not alone. My dad hasn’t joined yet. But I’ve stopped trying to convince him. Instead, I’ve told him where the local one meets. I’ve mentioned that the bloke who runs it is good company. And I’ve left it at that – which, it turns out, is exactly the right move. Because the Shed isn’t about being saved. It’s about being seen. And sometimes that’s all a man needs to stop being bored. For more information and to find a Men’s Shed near you go to mensshed.org
Words by Heidi Horne From the outside, she looks like she has it all together. She is capable. Reliable. The one everyone depends on. She gets things done, keeps life moving and rarely drops the ball. But beneath that calm exterior, many high-functioning women are running on fumes. They are not collapsing. Not checking out. Just quietly pushing through. This is hidden burnout, and it hides best in the women who look the most capable. It is a story I hear often in my work. For a long time, it was mine too. Many of the women I now support describe the same experience. Functioning. Delivering. Showing up for everyone else. Yet quietly depleted themselves. For years, I was the woman who could juggle everything. A business, a family, travel, speaking commitments, volunteering. On paper, it looked like I was thriving. Inside, I was sprinting through life collecting invisible medals for being busy, productive and always available. Until life forced me to stop. A snowboarding accident in Japan on Christmas Eve several years ago meant complete stillness. No multitasking. No pushing through. In that quiet space, I realised something confronting. I had not been managing stress. I had trained myself to live in it. Like many high-functioning women, I did not recognise the signs because I was still performing. Still coping. Still achieving. But functioning is not the same as being well. The mental load that never switches off Many women carry an invisible load that follows them long after the workday ends. We move from one role to another without transition. Professional to parent. Leader to carer. Problem-solver to emotional support. Our minds barely land before the next demand arrives. Even when we sit down, our nervous system often does not. Busy becomes a badge of honour. Multitasking becomes a measure of worth. Yet only a small percentage of people can truly multitask effectively. Most of us are task-switching, which increases cortisol, reduces focus and leaves us feeling scattered and wired. It is no surprise that so many women feel both exhausted and unable to switch off. The data is catching up Research shows that a significant portion of people experience stress throughout much of the day, particularly those in high-responsibility roles. In Australia, burnout continues to rise as work and life blur together and genuine downtime disappears. On average, people check their phones nearly 100 times a day. Each glance signals urgency to the brain, reinforcing a constant low-grade stress response. Many of us reach for our phones first thing in the morning, prioritising notifications over presence. If you feel wired, tired and constantly on edge, it is not because you are failing. It is because your nervous system has not been given space to reset. Why traditional self-care falls short Much of the advice given to women focuses on taking a break or booking a holiday. But hidden burnout is rarely caused by one major event. It is the accumulation of small, unresolved stressors over time. A week away may offer relief, but it does not rewire daily patterns. What we need is not escape. We need recovery woven into everyday life. What a reset can look like A reset does not require hours of spare time. It requires small interruptions to the stress cycle already in motion. At the start of the day, before reaching for your phone, take a moment to smile, even if it feels forced. Smiling triggers the release of neurotransmitters that signal safety to the brain. Visualise your day going well. Notice your internal dialogue and gently shift it towards something more supportive. During the day, especially before a meeting or difficult conversation, pause and breathe slowly. A longer exhale activates the parasympathetic nervous system, the body’s natural calming mechanism. This simple practice can lower stress hormones and restore clarity. At the end of the day, instead of replaying everything left undone, acknowledge three small wins. This helps signal completion to the brain and supports genuine rest rather than carrying tension into the night. These are not elaborate wellness rituals. They are small neurological cues that tell your system when to activate and when to stand down. Burnout is not solved by escaping your life. It is eased by learning how to reset within it, one small moment at a time. To learn more about Heidi Horne’s work, visit heidihorne.co
What your child needs when they tell you they’re being bullied It might come at the kitchen table on a Tuesday night. Or in the car on the way home from school, when they’re staring out the window and you’ve run out of things to say. Your kid goes quiet for a moment, then says it: Something’s been happening. There’s a pause. They’re watching your face, reading you for signs. Will you believe them? Will you make it worse? That moment – the one where they finally speak – is everything. Why This Matters Bullying isn’t character-building. It’s not something kids just need to toughen up and get through. Research shows Australian students face some of the highest rates among OECD countries, with around one in four school-aged children affected. Seven in ten children aged 12–13 have experienced at least one bullying-like behaviour within a year. The forms it takes are familiar: being left out on purpose, being made fun of in cruel ways, having lies spread about them, being pushed around or made afraid. Each one chips away at something essential. What many parents don’t realise is the lasting impact. Bullying can affect performance at school. It increases the risk of depression and anxiety. Young people report feeling isolated – and that isolation, that sense of going through it alone, is often the worst part. When your child finally tells you, they’re not looking for you to fix it with a lecture or a dramatic reaction. They need a parent who understands what they’re facing and believes them. What Your Child Needs According to research on talking with children about bullying, when your child discloses what’s happening, seven things matter: 1. Belief. Many children don’t speak up because they fear not being taken seriously. A calm response tells them they made the right call by trusting you. 2. Being heard. Listen without interrupting. Don’t interrogate or rush to solve it. Let them talk openly about what’s going on. This is harder than it sounds – most parents want to jump into problem-solving mode. Resist that urge. 3. Trust that you’ll help. Your child needs to know that when they tell you something, you’re going to do something about it. Not overreact. Not make it worse. But act. 4. Hope. Bullying strips children of agency and leaves them feeling powerless. They need to believe things can get better. And they need to see that belief reflected in you. 5. Some control. Involve them in decisions about what happens next, even in small ways. This might mean deciding whether to talk to the school first, or what you’ll say when you do. When kids feel like they have some say, they start to reclaim their sense of agency. 6. Learning self-protective behaviours. Once they feel heard, work together on strategies. What can they do if it happens again? Who can they talk to at school? What does assertiveness look like in their situation? 7. Confidence rebuilt. Remind them that bullying is wrong and this isn’t their fault. Reinforce who they are beyond what’s been done to them. Sometimes children start to believe the awful things said about them. Your job is to remind them of their worth, their strengths, their value. What Happens When You Get This Right When kids trust that their parents will believe and help them, something shifts. They develop resilience – not by toughening up, but by knowing they’re not facing it alone. Research shows that a supportive home environment where children feel comfortable sharing strengthens their capacity to cope and recover. Your child learns that conflict can be navigated safely. That asking for help is a strength, not a weakness. That adults can be allies. That reaching out leads somewhere safe. Those lessons don’t just help them through school. They shape how they handle challenges, relationships and difficult conversations for the rest of their lives. When Things Feel Too Big Sometimes bullying affects a child deeply. If your child expresses intense emotions, talks about harming themselves, or seems unable to cope, that’s the moment to reach out for professional support immediately. A school counsellor, a GP, or a mental health professional can help carry the weight when it’s too heavy for you to carry alone. The Power of Showing Up Being the safe place isn’t complicated. It doesn’t require perfect words or the right strategy. It requires presence. It requires listening without judgement, believing without hesitation, and acting with care. In that quiet moment, when your child is watching your face for a reaction, you don’t need to fix everything. You just need to show them they’re not facing it alone. The Queensland Government is tackling bullying by giving parents new and expanded supports, including: a 7-day-a-week parent HOTLINE with trained counsellors @parentline more on the ground support from chaplains and dedicated wellbeing staff rapid support teams into bullying hotspots Find out more by visiting qld.gov.au/antibullying or visit ParentLine
In a world that moves quickly and reacts even faster, calm is often mistaken for the absence of chaos. But true calm is not found in perfectly managed environments or conflict-free lives. It is found in the quiet, deliberate space between stimulus and response, where choice lives. Every day, we are presented with moments that test us. A sharp email. A difficult conversation. A situation that feels unfair or out of our control. The instinct is to react, to match intensity with intensity, to defend, to escalate, to prove. Yet this is where calm quietly offers an alternative. Calm is not passive. It is not avoidance, nor is it silence in the face of difficulty. It is an active, internal decision to pause. To step back from the immediacy of emotion and ask: How do I want to respond here? This distinction, between reaction and response, is where personal power resides. When we react, we hand over control to the situation. Our emotions lead, often fuelled by past experiences, assumptions, or heightened stress. When we respond, we reclaim authorship. We choose our tone, our words, our timing. We remain grounded in who we are, rather than being shaped by what is happening around us. There is a discipline in this. It requires awareness. It asks us to recognise when we are being pulled into someone else’s urgency, someone else’s conflict, or someone else’s emotional state. And then, consciously, to return to our own centre. This is what it means to “stay in your lane.” Staying in your lane is not disengagement; it is clarity. It is understanding what is yours to carry and what is not. It is resisting the urge to absorb, fix, or react to everything that comes your way. It is choosing measured, intentional action over impulsive reaction. In high-conflict environments, whether in relationships, workplaces, or during life transitions. This becomes even more critical. Calm does not remove the challenge, but it transforms how you move through it. Peace, then, is not something you wait for. It is something you practice. And often, it begins with a single, powerful choice: Not to react, but to respond.
The "manosphere" is influencing boys' views on masculinity and relationships. Here's what parents need to know and how to start conversations that matter.
What every worker should know before they need it By Kev Perry In today’s workplaces, whether in corporate offices, healthcare settings, retail, education or community services, most people are navigating increasingly complex environments. We tend to think of workplace incidents as sudden or unpredictable, but in reality they are rarely random. In our work at Persec Services, where we train organisations across Australia in occupational violence and aggression prevention, we consistently see the same pattern. Escalation is usually preceded by subtle signals. The challenge is not a lack of warning. It is a lack of awareness. Situational awareness is not about being anxious or suspicious. It is about recognising early indicators of risk and responding calmly before a situation intensifies. What situational awareness really means Throughout the day we naturally shift between different levels of awareness. When we are busy, distracted or fatigued, our attention narrows. In those moments, small behavioural or environmental changes can go unnoticed. Effective situational awareness involves noticing shifts in tone, body language or behaviour. It means being conscious of your physical positioning in a space, recognising when someone’s emotional state changes and understanding environmental risk factors such as isolation, lighting or exit access. In practical terms, it is about identifying when something does not look right, sound right or feel right, and allowing yourself to respond early rather than dismissing the discomfort. Recognising early signs of escalation Aggression often develops gradually. It may begin with subtle cues such as a sharper tone, repeated complaints delivered with increasing intensity, dismissive language or visible frustration like pacing or clenched jaws. Personal space may begin to shrink. Boundaries may be tested under the guise of humour. These behaviours may not appear dramatic, but they can signal a rising emotional load. Many women are particularly attuned to these shifts, yet are often socially conditioned to downplay their instincts. Trusting that awareness is not overreacting. It is informed pattern recognition. Environmental factors matter Risk is not solely about individual behaviour. Workplace design and conditions also play a role. Working late alone, navigating poorly lit car parks, meeting in isolated rooms without clear exit routes or lacking accessible duress systems can increase vulnerability. Simple strategies such as positioning yourself closer to an exit, maintaining appropriate distance or ensuring a colleague is aware of your location can significantly reduce risk. These are not dramatic actions. They are practical considerations. The importance of boundaries One of the most common workplace myths is that being polite is safer than being firm. In reality, professional boundaries are protective. Clear communication, calm disengagement and creating space when needed are not signs of rudeness. They are appropriate responses to discomfort. You are not responsible for managing someone else’s emotional state, but you are responsible for your own safety and behaviour. If tension begins to rise, lowering your voice, slowing your speech and acknowledging emotion without escalating it can help stabilise a situation. Increasing physical distance and offering clear options can further reduce the likelihood of escalation. Why near-misses should not be ignored Serious incidents are often preceded by smaller events that go unreported. A comment dismissed as “just having a bad day”. A repeated boundary violation brushed aside. Verbal hostility tolerated because it did not become physical. Documenting and reporting these moments is not about creating conflict. It is about identifying patterns, strengthening workplace health and safety compliance and preventing future harm. Workplaces with strong safety cultures treat near-misses as valuable information rather than inconvenience. What supportive workplace culture looks like A healthy safety culture takes concerns seriously, avoids victim-blaming and conducts timely risk reviews. It provides clear feedback on actions taken and prioritises prevention over reaction. Psychological safety supports physical safety. When employees feel confident raising concerns early, escalation becomes far less likely. Five practical considerations Starting tomorrow, consider the following: Does your workplace layout support your personal safety needs? Are there repeated personal space violations from staff, clients or customers? Do reporting procedures align with actual practice? Are there environmental blind spots such as isolated meeting rooms or poorly lit car parks? Does your workplace culture encourage speaking up without fear of dismissal? Situational awareness is not dramatic or confrontational. It is subtle, consistent and preventative. When practised regularly, it reduces risk long before a crisis develops. In modern workplaces, that quiet vigilance is not excessive. It is essential.
Skin tells a story; a story of sunlight, laughter and sometimes, survival. What many people don’t expect, though, is how deeply medical procedures can change the way their skin looks and feels. Every year, thousands of Australians undergo treatments that save lives or restore health: mole removals, skin cancer excisions, surgical repairs, grafts and more. The priority is always recovery. But long after the medical journey is over, visible reminders often stay behind — pale or dark scars, areas of missing pigment, grafts that don’t blend with surrounding skin. For some, it’s a quiet reminder of illness, surgery or trauma. For others, it affects how confidently they see themselves. Many are told that nothing more can be done, that the scar will “settle” with time. But for a growing number of people, that’s not the end of the story. There is a next step, and it’s called medical tattooing. Medical tattooing is a specialised form of skin restoration that helps rebalance colour and camouflage areas affected by scarring or pigment loss. Unlike cosmetic tattooing, which focuses on enhancing brows or lips, medical tattooing is about restoration: helping the treated area look more like the surrounding skin. Using advanced pigments and precise micro-techniques, practitioners can reintroduce false melanin into lighter scars, soften darker marks, and create a more natural, blended appearance. “It’s about restoring normalcy,” says Kat McCann, a three-time Australian Cosmetic Tattooist of the Year. “When someone looks in the mirror and sees their skin, not their scar, it changes how they feel in their own body.” The technique can support many types of scarring, including surgical scars, accident-related injuries, burns and grafts. It helps reduce contrast, even out tone and restore visual balance. Is it right for you? Your scar or graft is fully healed, flat and stable in colour. You’ve received medical clearance following surgical or cancer-related treatment. You want to restore natural tone or reduce contrast in a visible area. Why it matters Medical tattooing isn’t about vanity, it’s about resolution. It’s often the quiet, final stage of healing that helps people reconnect with their confidence and sense of self. Did you know? • Australia has one of the highest rates of skin-cancer treatment in the world, resulting in thousands of surgical excisions every year. • Many of these procedures leave pigment loss or scar contrast that remains visible, even after full healing. • Medical tattooing provides a long-term, non-invasive way to blend these areas naturally back into the skin. About the author Kat McCann is a medical tattooist and educator, and a three-time recipient of the Australian Cosmetic Tattooist of the Year award. Through her studio, INKA Cosmetic & Medical Tattoo, she specialises in advanced scar camouflage and restorative tattooing for trauma-affected skin. Complimentary consultations are available for those wanting to know more. Visit www.inkaonlima.com to learn more.