Because the very act of telling you she gives no fucks means she gives at least one. She gives the fuck of you knowing. And that small contradiction unravels the whole thing.

This episode is Peta thinking out loud about what's really underneath the no fucks movement. The exhaustion. The armouring up. The knee jerk fuck you to decades of trying to be palatable, perfect, pleasing, enough. She gets it. She honours it. And she still thinks we can do better.

What if the no fucks era is just a wounded woman in disguise? What if it's a teenager's reaction wearing a Queenager's coat? Because a Queenager has lived a life. She has wisdom. She has discernment. And she doesn't need to throw her fucks away. She just gets to be far more choosey about which ones she gives.

This is a short, sharp one. The kind of episode you listen to in the school pickup line and then sit with for the rest of the afternoon.

The blank playbook is open. The pages are yours. And maybe, just maybe, a few well placed fucks belong in there.

Peta calls bullshit. Gently. With love. And then she names her own.

This episode opens with Peta's working definition of the Queenager era. The midlife woman who finds herself in her 50s with menopause changing her brain chemistry, her tolerance for nonsense, and her willingness to put herself first. Coo-coo ca-choo from Malibu makes a guest appearance courtesy of Dr Mindy Pelz. So does the pass the parcel theory of personal development. So does the question of whether the next forty years of your life are actually being prepared for right now, in this exact moment.

And then she gets to the regrets.

The one about wishing she'd spent more time with her kids when they were little. The one firmly in the TMI column about her lazered pussy bush and the sneaky grey hairs that no laser can touch. The big one about not taking drama in year twelve. Not following the singer she could have been. Not backing herself the way Lainey Wilson backed herself from the very beginning.

There's also a cabaret story that you genuinely have to hear out loud. Front row, no exit, courage and passion high, talent low, plus a nervous giggle threatening to ruin everything. Peta wrestles with judgement, with compassion, with the question of whether the people on that stage were braver than she's ever been.

The closing thought is the one to sit with. We need to know where our moral boundaries are. And maybe we won't know what that line is until we cross it.

Maybe regrets aren't failure. Maybe they're the map.

Peta shares a raw, unfiltered voice note she sent to one of her closest friends, one of those messages that arrived before she had a chance to overthink it, and it cracked something open. She’d been feeling lost. Disconnected from her mojo. Like she’d been reborn but hadn’t quite worked out who this new version of herself actually is yet.

She talks about the anxiety, the grief, and the very human instinct to grasp for the familiar when everything feels uncertain. To reach for something known, something to anchor to, just to steady the ship. And then the moment she realised that maybe the steadying isn’t the point. Maybe the point is to just let go and jump in.

Jump into the fucking river of life.

The quote that arrived and shifted everything? Life is but a dream. Cue Row Your Boat, cue the energy shift, cue the Queenager era being officially declared.

Peta also shares why she’s renamed this Substack and podcast The Queenager Diaries, the story behind the book she’s appearing in alongside 49 other women, and what it means to finally pick up the keys to the queendom and put down the baggage she didn’t even know she was carrying.

Fresh. Wide eyed. Fifty one years of wisdom under her belt. Tits and all.

This is the one where it all begins.

So with this voicenote (aka first podcast episode), I’m finally showing up as I am, not as I thought I needed to be.

Seven weeks ago, my beloved golden retriever Daisy passed away. And honestly? It’s been rough. Grief, crippling anxiety, menopause, and the kind of threshold moment that feels less like a stepping stone and more like wading through a deep, muddy riverbed. I open up about all of it, including how unkind I’ve been to myself lately, and the little pilot light inside me that keeps flickering despite my best efforts to douse it.

But here’s the thing. That pilot light? She’s got something to burn for.

I share the news that my online coaching and mentoring business has come to a close, and why. After 12+ years, the why had faded. And something shifted when I turned 50, this quiet freedom from needing external validation, that made it impossible to pretend otherwise.

What replaced it surprised me. It was right in front of me the whole time.

I’m launching a new business, My Pet Taxi, co-created with my son Samson, who is autistic and magnificent and ready to take on the world. The business picks up and drops off your beloved dogs to daycare, with a bigger vision of creating something replicable for other neurodivergent individuals down the track. It is infused with Daisy’s spirit, built on years of dreaming about how to support Samson’s independence, and honestly, it’s where my whole entrepreneurial journey has been heading all along.

This episode is raw, real, and a little all over the place, just like life right now. But the pilot light is flickering. And she’s not going out.

In this intro episode, Peta shares how this podcast came to life, and true to form, it started with a voice note into her phone rather than lights, camera, microphone, and a whole lot of overthinking. Because as it turns out, that’s where her magic lives.

Peta unpacks a little of her background in human design (she’s been a reader for eight years and had an entire business built around it) and shares a fascinating insight about her own design: she’s built to speak straight from the heart, in the moment, unfiltered. Which makes the fact that she’s also a recovering perfectionist absolutely, perfectly, hilarious.

This podcast is her diary, shared out loud. You’ll hear perspectives, philosophies, wisdom, and real-time life unfolding, from a 51 year old woman who has genuinely lived. There’s no polished intro, no fancy outro, and the audio might occasionally be a little rough around the edges. And that is entirely the point.

Her mantra? KISS. Keep It Simple Sweetheart.

Subscribe, come along for the ride, and enjoy watching it unfold in real time. Because honestly, Peta has no idea where it’s going either, and that’s exactly what makes it worth listening to.