I was in a conversation with my cousin over coffee one morning telling her that I just don’t understand Croatian boys, they kept asking me these stupid primitive type questions, I was literally confused. “You’re not dating Croatian boys, you’re dating Hercegovci, Adriana.” Problem solved & lesson learned. Now when a boy tells me they are from Hercegovina, I smile, nod and walk away.
I’ve been driven in a Rolls. I’ve partied at The Ritz. I’ve owned Louboutins and dined at some of the finest restaurants in the world. I’ve rubbed shoulders with the “elite” and most likely done drugs with your kids. There is no need to judge me, just make sure the grass in your own garden is trimmed. I open my Editor’s Letter with a paradox, one where I show that it takes a lot to impress me. Essentially, I have seen and heard it all, about myself and others.
I was aware that the majority of the bad vices and decisions I’d made in my past were cautiously watching my movements online but to doubt my will power was a hit to my ego no line of cocaine could compete with.
I’ve spent three years away from the safety blanket of Sydney, a city I knew like the back of my hand. I’ve spent three years learning first hand that there is no end result, no finish line, there is no top- you must constantly be evolving. And that’s the tricky part, continually shedding layers of yourself for something new and uncertain.