Justin Bieber's rumoured Aussie ex Sahara Ray announces pregnancy and reveals baby's gender - after falsely accusing fiancé of abuse
The Victorian-born beauty, 31, who is the rumoured ex of Justin Bieber, took to Instagram on Saturday to reveal she is currently 15 weeks pregnant.
Sahara shared a series of images that showed her flaunting her burgeoning baby bump as well as ultrasound photos of her precious cargo.
She also revealed she is expecting a baby girl, with one image featuring congratulatory bouquets of flowers and a balloon with the words 'it's a girl'.
The soon-to-be mother was glowing in the photos as she showed off her enviable frame in a white crop top with billowing sleeves and matching white shorts.
From A-list scandals and red carpet mishaps to exclusive pictures and viral moments, subscribe to the DailyMail's new showbiz newsletter to stay in the loop.
The post was met with an outpouring of well wishes from friends and followers.
'Ahhh congratulations! Welcome to the best stage of life,' one commented, while another offered a similar: 'Oh my goodness. The goddess is having a baby.'
Summing up the sentiment of many, a third offered: 'Wait you are actually glowing, congrats mama.'
Sharing the announcement to her Instagram Stories, Sahara curiously coupled the image with the track Daisies by Justin Bieber, who she was rumoured to have had a fling with in 2016.
Sahara's big news comes after she denied false claims she made against her fiancé Mike during an 'episode' which saw her admitted to hospital.
She made a series of disturbing and false allegations on social media in April, claiming she suffered physical, sexual and financial abuse, but soon renounced her comments.
The now-deleted Instagram Stories included graphic images of bloodied sheets and injuries she falsely claimed she suffered.
However, following the disturbing posts, Sahara posted to her Instagram Stories to clarify the claims were untrue and prompted by a mental health issue, for which she sought treatment in hospital.
Sahara shared a series of images that showed her flaunting her burgeoning baby bump as well as ultrasound photos of her precious cargo
'I want to thank everyone for their concern and for reaching out over the past week. I want to set the record straight—I posted things about my fiancé that weren't true and were deeply hurtful to him,' she wrote.
'I'm so sorry for the hurt and confusion I caused—none of it ever actually happened.
'When I made those posts, I was experiencing an episode that warped my perception of reality and led me to believe things that weren't real.
'During my episode, I truly believed things had happened that didn't—and it all felt very real. I was hospitalised and quickly realised that they didn't happen. That's not an excuse, just the truth.
The model went on to say she is 'working hard now to heal and to make sure something like this never happens again'.
'To my fiancé, I am truly sorry. And to everyone who saw those posts—thank you for giving me the chance to explain and make this right,' she added.
'I'm incredibly grateful for my family, friends, and this community who have stood by me while I work through this. Your support means the world to me right now.'
It is unclear how long Sahara and Mike have been together, but he first appeared on her social media in April and was seen with a tattoo of her name on his forearm.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Guardian
21 minutes ago
- The Guardian
What? They're doing raves in the morning now? With coffee? At a cafe?
The only ways I know to rave are festival-style or in the buzzed wee hours – the time between pubs shutting and trains starting. This means I've never walked into a cafe, fresh-faced and sober at 9am, with the intention of raving. But this is 2025, not the late 1990s, and people are possibly more questioning of the cost of partying on their bodies than they once were. So, coffee raves have become a thing. They're all over the world and come in many shapes and sizes, tending towards the bijou. Inevitably, they're big in Los Angeles and on social media, and are often the territory of young people, athleisurewear and brand collaborations. They're so popular, they've also become fair game. In a TikTok rant last week, musician Keli Holiday said what I might have been thinking: 'Call me old, call me jaded, but enough is enough, no more coffee raves … If you want to get your rave on … go to a rave or go to a club.' But on a rainy Saturday morning in central Sydney, I try one out – dubbed Maple Social Club – approaching with caution. I'm not a leisurewear wearer or an Instagrammer or indeed a coffee drinker. My young adult life was, rightly or wrongly, given to maximum nights out and minimum responsibility – and my weekends now are generally about children and sleep. If there's a cafe involved, it's usually peaceful. Organiser Taylor Gwyther, 25, tells me morning raves are an add-on to the night-time variety, not instead of. 'But, there's definitely a trend away from alcohol that I think encourages events like this to be popular,' she says as the first arrivals begin to enter the warehouse space behind Wilson cafe in Surry Hills. Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning Maple Social Club, which Gwyther founded with Connor Cameron, 23, is less than a year old and was inspired by run clubs and LA's AM radio morning DJ sets. Their free events provide an alibi, Gwyther says, in the same way a run club is a little bit about running and a lot about meeting people. 'Covid shut down a lot of social life and created lonely adjacent habits, and people are looking to revitalise how they spend their time,' she says. 'We spend so much time online for work and now play, I think people are looking for places and spaces to spend offline. We're trying to make it easier to find those things.' Morning raves also make sense on another, more local, level. Sydney residents are among the world's earliest to bed and earliest risers. In a city whose nightlife sits well below its beaches, wealth and wellness reputations, mornings are sacrosanct. Plus, it's expensive to party the normal way in a city with a famously stratospheric cost of living. A beer is about $12 in the pubs nearby. Here, a coffee is about $5 – and there's no need to buy a drink at all. Because, as Bronte, a 30-year-old nurse tells me later on the dancefloor, 'Who's got money these days, really?' Michael Pung, 39, a property valuer from Sydney, saw the event advertised on Instagram. 'I thought I'd check it out. I've been single for a while and I thought I might as well just come out and meet people,' he says, queueing in the long and slow-moving coffee line – which, handily for him, doubles as another opportunity to meet people. Like me, he's not normally a coffee drinker but, given he was out late last night Latin dancing, he says 'probably today's the day'. Sign up to Saved for Later Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips after newsletter promotion I order a tea and a croissant, which feels plain weird, and join the throng as DJs Catch25 and Haze near the end of the opening set. It's already busy and I feel too exposed, too daylit, too close to too many raised phones. But, everyone – and I really mean everyone – is smiling. By 10am, the dancefloor is heaving with what feels like a roughly 50/50 mix of men and women. There are some older people, but generally the crowd is aged 20 to 35 – and as Gwyther predicted, 'super diverse'. Some have made a morning of it and are wearing what I would consider proper going-out attire with high heels; others are grungy, and most are in baggy jeans. Bronte, who lives locally, is here with friends. She says her evening and night shifts as a nurse mean she is often socially 'removed from the night'. She's sweaty and happy and hard to hear above the music. 'I've done all my walking for the day,' she says, referring to another thing that didn't used to be a thing: step count. Like Pung, she also goes out at night-time, but having the option to dance her working week away come Saturday morning is, as she puts it, 'very nice'. The music's not quite loud enough, or bassy enough, to lose myself – but, by about 10.30am, I think I might be dancing. People near me are drinking iced matcha lattes, which I'll never condone, but as the DJ drops a relative banger, I admit to my colleague, who is photographing this road test, that I'm having quite an uplifting start to my weekend. The day is still young and there's an afterparty at a pub nearby and yet another planned for the afternoon. Before I leave (it's approaching 11am after all) I turn to talk to a man who is watching on from close to the DJ area. Liam, 25, is almost-but-not-quite dancing, and it turns out he works for Red Bull events. He's here professionally: might Maple's coffee raves be worth bringing into the energy drink's gargantuan sponsorship embrace? 'We see just as much relevance for Red Bull in an occasion like this [as] a music festival or the F1,' he says with no small amount of enthusiasm. Stepping around some spilt milk, it strikes me there is no alcohol-edged aggro, argy bargy at the bar or intimidating bouncers. Just music and broad daylight – plus caffeine, in hot, cold and increasingly corporatised modes.
The Guardian
21 minutes ago
- The Guardian
Teresa Palmer: ‘What's the strangest thing in my fridge? Oh my God – there is slime'
When was the last time you solved a mystery? Oh, I'm going big with this answer: the mystery of the phantom pooer. Someone in my family does poos in the toilet and doesn't flush them. They've all been blaming each other. [Palmer has four children and a stepson.] It got to the point where I really thought it was my husband, because it was in our toilet. So I actually set up a situation where I pretended the other toilet was blocked and they couldn't use it, and I stalked my children after each poo. One time I didn't hear a flush and they ran out to play so I figured out who the phantom pooer was. I won't out which one of my children it was, but it's one of them. I keep saying, 'It's not that hard! You do a poo, you press the flush!' What's the weirdest thing in your fridge right now? Let me go have a look. Alright, I have garlic chives. I've got tarragon. I have got peaches in juice. Oh my God, what is this? What is this? I think it's slime. Oh my gosh, it's my son's slime. I thought it was some sort of compote – it is dark red and has chunks in it. There is slime in my fridge. As a teenager, you worked at the Hungry Jack's in Rundle Mall in Adelaide. Have you ever filmed anything more scary than working at the Hungry Jack's in Rundle Mall? [laughs] I used to sub at Hungry Jack's in Rundle Mall. I mainly was at Hawthorn. There were some pretty dodgy characters hanging around Rundle Mall back then … I have filmed many, many scary things over my career, but nothing quite compares to the experience of working at Hungry Jack's as a 15-year-old. I'd still go to Rundle Mall to hang out with my little homies in the city. That was the highlight of my weekend. 'Let's go to Rundle Mall! Maybe head to Dazzleland?' What is the strangest skill you've learned for a role? Bizarrely, I learned to row for A Discovery of Witches. I learned how to flip my boat and come up the other way, which was really horrifying as someone who is deathly afraid of being underwater. But I became really efficient at it and I broke through my fear. I had another weird experience when I filmed Point Break in Tahiti – again, underwater. I was strapped to the bottom of the ocean with four sandbags and they take your oxygen out so you can clear your air bubbles. And then you have to act! I had to act in love with someone under the water. When my air would cut out, I would signal with these wide, crazy, panicky eyes. You just have to trust that someone will swim over and give you your regulator back. I recently turned down a job because they were like 'It'll be three months in the water swimming with whales!' I was like 'Pass! Keep me on dry land.' Which movie scarred you for life as a kid? Candyman. It was at my brother's 13th sleepover. I had a big crush on one of his friends, Jesse, so I snuck in to sit with all the boys and sleeping bags and pretend I was a super-cool 11-year-old. I saw the bit with the bees killing people, and I did not sleep without my touch lamp on for about four years. It was terrifying. And I never got to hook up with Jesse. Who's the most famous person in your phone? I'll check. You'll have to pick. Paris Hilton. Russell Crowe. Emma Stone. Eva Mendes. Sia? What's the best lesson you've learned from someone you've worked with? It's OK to get Uber Eats if you don't like the food at work. I am vegan and it's annoying for people to have to cater to me. This is the people pleaser inside of me. So I always order a vegan garlic bread and a bubble tea. I have that, no joke, every lunchtime when I film. It has got to the point where people will come and give me a heads up on when I should put the order in. When a recent job wrapped, I ordered like 200 garlic breads for everyone on the cast and crew. They were like, 'What have we been snoozing on? This is amazing.' I am the picture of wellness – garlic bread and bubble tea. What are you secretly really good at? I'm an encyclopedia for true crime. I know every true crime case. People come to me for recommendations for podcasts, documentaries, TV shows. I can sit and have an in-depth conversation about various cases and theories with anyone. We can get deep real quick – you can just say the first name of someone in a case and I'll know immediately who we're talking about. That's how I find my people. What book, album or film do you always return to, and why? Labyrinth. When I used to go to my dad's place as a kid, he didn't quite know how to entertain a little girl so he bought me three VHS tapes and every Sunday I would watch one of the three. The movies were Grease, Labyrinth and A Little Princess. It was funny to watch Labyrinth again with my children. They're so used to watching Pixar and things with amazing special effects, but the magic was still there. We play the album in the car all day. It still holds firm as my favourite movie. What's been your most cringeworthy run-in with a celebrity? This happened about a year ago. I was doing an acting workshop in Byron Bay. We're in the middle of it and this guy pops his head in with his dog, and says 'Oh, what is this?' I told him and he said 'Cool, I've always thought about looking into this.' So I asked what he did and he said he makes music. I was thinking 'That's cute. Are you in a band? Do you perform in the pub?' And someone says 'Holy shit, that's Pete Murray.' I went to all his concerts. I used to follow him around Australia, watching all these gigs. And I completely didn't recognise him – I thought he was a cute dad who was in a band at the local pub. It was really mortifying. But we had a laugh. I said 'I am so embarrassed – I'm a huge fan of yours.' He invited me and my friends to his gig two months later, so he's not upset I didn't recognise him. He was just so out of context. He is a Byron Bay dad, who knew! Teresa Palmer stars in The Family Next Door, which premieres Sunday 10 August at 8pm on ABC TV, with all episodes available to stream on ABC iView.
The Guardian
21 minutes ago
- The Guardian
The moment I knew: moving so far and so fast wasn't in my character but it just felt right
In December 2024 I arrived in Sydney ready for an adventure. A friend was getting married in Australia and I had originally booked the trip with my ex, but when he dropped out after our breakup I decided to go ahead. I was considering quitting my job and moving back to the Netherlands so, even though I didn't know what my future would look like, I was ready for a holiday. I planned a week with friends in Sydney and Newcastle, a week with a friend travelling up the east coast and a final week on my own. On New Year's Eve I'd been at an all-day boat party on Sydney Harbour when a friend said she was off to meet an old flame of hers at a fireworks event in Bondi. I remember her telling me he had a nice single brother called Ben and showing me a photo: he had a moustache, was wearing a tank top and didn't look like my type at all. I told her I wasn't interested. I just wanted to stay with friends. When my friend's taxi arrived she pulled me in with her – and thank goodness she did because, when I met Ben in person, he looked completely different to the guy in the photos – tall and handsome with a big smile. He immediately made me laugh. We kissed within 10 minutes of saying hello, which was about half an hour before midnight. Ben had been ill with food poisoning and hadn't been in particularly high spirits until we arrived but said he immediately forgot about all of that. There was just this instant connection and we both felt as though we had nothing to lose. We lived too far apart to ever see each other again. The following day Ben and his brother invited my friend and me to a music festival. We worried it would be awkward at first but Ben and I picked up where we'd left off. We were like little kids running between stages. The next morning I had to leave for the wedding in Newcastle. I remember kissing Ben goodbye at the ferry terminal in Manly, wondering if I'd ever see this man again but knowing I definitely wanted to. We started texting straight away and I was so distracted I ended up missing my connecting train. Later in the trip I got an ear infection just before a five-day scuba diving expedition on the Great Barrier Reef. I cancelled – and something inside me was happy to, knowing that it would give me five days without a plan. Ben was competing in a triathlon in Nelson Bay and he asked if I wanted to come watch him drown, which felt like a fun way to hang out. It turned out to be an indirect invitation to stay with his aunt and uncle for the weekend. I booked a flight immediately. At this point I saw the whole thing as a bit of fun – a holiday romance, nothing serious. Being so far from home gave me a kind of 'why not' mentality. We both knew long-distance between London and Sydney would never work so we just decided to enjoy each other's company for as long as we had it. Over the next couple of days we spent time with his aunt and uncle, slept in a tent on the beach and competed in a mini-triathlon together. I remember travelling back to Sydney with Ben holding my hand the whole way back. He didn't want to let me go and I felt the same way. He booked flights to Melbourne with me for the Australian Open that week, and I ended up delaying my return flight so we could have an extra day together. Leaving each other at Melbourne airport was when we decided to see if maybe we could make long-distance work after all. We agreed to meet in Scotland six weeks later, calling each other every day in the meantime. I met all of Ben's family and friends on that trip to Scotland and, after four days, he asked me to be his girlfriend. This time when we went our separate ways it wasn't just goodbye until the next trip; it was goodbye until we moved in together. It wasn't in my character to do things like this but it just felt right and my friends and family could see that. They told me to take a leap of faith and see what happened. Ben and I reunited eight weeks later at Sydney airport and this time I was holding more than just a holiday bag. It turns out that my first impressions of Ben were right; we talked non-stop that New Year's Eve and, to be honest, we've never really stopped. He is still that fun and charismatic guy who makes me feel comfortable. For now Australia is our home but we plan to move back to Europe together in the longer term. Whether that's England, Scotland or the Netherlands remains to be seen – that's for figuring out later down the line. All I know is that we will find our home together. Do you have a romantic realisation you'd like to share? From quiet domestic scenes to dramatic revelations, Guardian Australia wants to hear about the moment you knew you were in love. Your contact details are helpful so we can contact you for more information. They will only be seen by the Guardian. Your contact details are helpful so we can contact you for more information. They will only be seen by the Guardian.
