One afternoon I received a message from Frida, one of the friends I met in Bali. She told me she’d be coming to Perth to do her farm work to extend her visa. She ended up staying at our house on her days off from the farm and instantly became part of the family. During the day, we’d explore the city and Fremantle, get psychic readings, do some classic “Northie” activities like coastal walks and smoothies at Yelo, go for Fikas, and at night we’d be dancing in concerts or somehow finding ourselves in Amplifier taking the piss out of boys we’d meet and getting drunk to the point of paralysis.

I didn’t know it at the time, but Frida was bringing light back into my life. Frida was a free-spirit with a loving soul. She had a Scandinavian sass and her energy was dangerously flirtatious. She could capture any man’s heart and let go of it with ease, as soon as she knew she deserved better. She had a way of life giving her exactly what she wanted, but I knew it was because she’d go after anything that caught her eye. Frida claimed to be cynical, but I’d never met someone more positive in my life. And it wasn’t the annoying type of positivity; it wasn’t fake. It was real in the sense that she believed no matter what happened in life, everything would always work out. You could tell her all your secrets, insecurities and worries, and never feel judged. Frida is the type of woman where you want her to have a good life and you know she will because she makes it happen. Whether she’s living in the same house as you or living on the other side of the country, you feel her presence, it never leaves. If you spend enough time with her, you’ll drink up her liquid being and she will be a part of you forever, and you’ll find yourself asking, “What would Frida do?”

To be continued . . .