Categorie archief: English posts

Best. Sex. Ever.

big-carrie2 28 April, 2015

I wrote my first erotic story in English!
I m stepping up my game, obviously.
But this is a story that could use the English abbreviation;
TMI
Which means: too much information.
So unless you’re that gay friend who has agreed to listen to all my gore, you have never heard this story.
Because I would never bother you with this.
You re all respectful mommies or struggling daddies (oh yeah…maybe we should tell them poor daddies) and the idea that in a parallel universe women like me have great sex with married men is not something that would deepen our friendship or family bond.
Or that I actively long for the sexual acts that are potentially an endless source for domestic quarrel?
Not helpful.
But maybe after reading the story The Biggie(it has been published in my book Big) you will understand why I need this.
Why sex is so very dear to me.
Why fooling around mindlessly will never be my thing, but neither will settling down and choosing a lifelong partner.
Because I get something out of this.
There is a theory that the more imagination you have, the more love has to offer. 
Yesterday, King’s Day in the Netherlands, I spent the entire day writing erotica, instead of going out. And I judged it to be one of the best holidays ever. That’s what I get out of it.
I have exciting sex, and then I relive it, again and again. I turn it into great stories that I can cherish as my personal memories for ever.
A short while ago I saw Mr. Big again, the lover from the story. There was very little time, and because every sexual encounter of ours has this horrible aftermath (in which we break-up) I judged it unwise to have sex. One hour does not outweigh days of drama. It has to be worth it.
Naturally Mr.Big did not agree and did everything in his power to make me change my mind.
It didn’t work…. And just as he had given up, and he was accompanying me to the door, we passed his bedroom door. Now it’s his condo – his wife doesn’t live there.
But still I found the bedroom a very private matter and I didn’t want to think about who had slept there. Maybe even recently.
He looked at me and said:
“Oh you’ll see it one day. But only after you’re stripped from your last thread of fabric.”
I nearly broke right there and there, hungry for a new adventure.

Best. Sex. Ever. Part 2: The Opus

6 June, 2015 

Nick: How’s your new book coming along?
Catherine: It’s practically writing itself.
~Basic Instinct

It took a while before I recognized it. Sure! I knew writing my first erotic story in English was more difficult than Dutch. And autobiographical erotica was more challenging than plain diary writing. Nevertheless, because my story The Biggie was “merely” erotica, I didn’t really label it particularly positive. I suppose part of me still hopes to evolve into Elizabeth Gilbert who after writing Eat, Pray, Love, settled down with a husband which such vigor that she now judges all her previous romantic involvements as being a waste of time compared to what she could have established if she had focused on her own mind, feeding her spirit.
In all fairness, she was talking about her love life as a teen, but in my opinion that makes it even worse. Out of all my love affairs, the ones I had as a teenager were the most precious. I would never wish to trade that for having read more books, visiting more museums or for speaking fluent Mandarin.

But despite the unlikeliness of ever becoming a serious novelist or self-help writer, I was a tat disappointed that it was yet another sex story. That after writing 22 of them in Dutch I was apparently still not satisfied, still not settled down, and still not Elizabeth Gilbert.   
Bummer.
Until the second story came, Credit.
Just like The Biggie I didn’t write it until weeks after “it” happened. Unlike the events in my diaries, sex seems to take more time to digest before I can put it to paper. More time to transform it into a real story. Where regular diary writing is about everything you do in daily life, giving it a build-in liveliness, erotica is only about sex. For me anyway: I’m not a firm believer in writing three books about one 20 year old confused virgin and one late twenties even more confused millionaire. (I came half-way book 2 of 50 Shades of Grey by the way. Holding the record in my circle of friends.)
Lacking the variety of topics of a regular diary, and not aspiring to become adult novel lengthy – the erotica needed time to condense, to boil down, until all the air and water were removed and with just a little bit of seasoning (also known as “fiction”) the right story came along.  Which brings me to the number one Frequently Asked Question:
Lauren, is it all true?”
Like all my work, and I suppose every author who works autobiographical, the exact order of things is different, the dialogue 50% fictionalized and the setting completely fictional.
In “Credit” we go on a business trip.
As in “abroad”, business trip.
Come on!
Everybody who knows me is aware that I have not been able to leave even the city (because of a sick cat) for over half a year. How on earth could I end up with Mr.Big in London?
So there you go – 100% fiction.
But the general message that is conveyed, is true. There is a man who is having unauthorized sex with me, and I am growing as a lover. Over eight years ago I became single and I can honestly say that this is everything I ever wanted. Not only when it comes to who Mr.Big is (which is a secret), or what we do (which is well documented), but in particular with regard to who I am. Sex is my most important personal development tool, only to be matched by writing.
The hours with Big are both my tool for learning, and my test if I am where I want to be. And even the rest of the “relationship” we have (which means all the awkward communication and will-he-call mind wrecking insecurities) are food for thought and adjustment. I really cannot believe Elizabeth Gilbert expected to learn anything about herself without romantic involvement.
My two biggest breakthroughs have been that contrary to what I have been thinking over the past 8 years, I really do not need a lover “to be there for me”.
Instead I take full responsibility for my problems and issues.
His obligation towards me are to keep things exciting, and to be in a good mood when we meet. Since I got clear on this, we haven’t had problems since.
So there I am. At the peak of Maslow’s sexual pyramid together with a man who I wouldn’t have dared to date 20 years ago, 8 years ago, or maybe even four seasons ago.
I’m with someone (when I feel romantic I secretly think “the only one”) who can fulfill every sexual fantasy I have, and charge it with the magic of being in love. And after 8 years of writing (yes, 8 too) I am an experienced diarist, in both English and Dutch, and a skilled erotica writer.
And that’s when I saw it:
The stories 
The Biggie and Credit amalgamate all my writing experience, all my self-reflection, but also eight years of dating and single sex. It’s everything I learned and achieved, and I can develop it in conjunction even further.
So unless things with Big end prematurely, there is a good chance this series will become the best work I will ever write*. My Magnum Opus, just like Eat, Pray, Love was Elizabeth’s Gilbert’s opus.
And then when this is finished I all have a whole new chance at becoming Oprah’s best friend again.
Although by then, I will be completely blissed out and will probably have stopped caring for things like that.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

* note from the author:
I did continue writing and The Biggie and Credit became the first stories of what I do consider my Opus indeed;
Big, diaries and erotica

My diaries en erotica are available at my BOOK SHOP

coming soon: new books 

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020 

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow my 
English blog which I established in 2018:
laurenharteveld.com

Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

Facebook 
Twitter @LSHarteveld

19 in 1991

61id7dm4b6L._SY679_31 August 2011

It wasn’t like the summers we have nowadays, with an extended warm spring and the rain setting in half-way July.
Not like this year, where every half day of sunshine is compensated by torrential rain, and you start using central heating before the holiday ends and school begins.
It wasn’t anything like that.
There are pictures of the hot day I moved out of my parents house, sun lit pics posing in front of my new house, happy.
Bright hanging trees on my introduction camp from University 
and a group photo with a radiant 19 year old me beaming between all the shorts-wearing boys from my class.
I would develop a crush on almost all of them, yet by Christmas the feelings were gone.
They didn’t stick.
I met the love of my life, and it would take me a whole year before I recognized him as such.
I met my muse, a man I still think about frequently. Yet it would take me 14 years before I started writing about him.
 It’s been 20 years and I know that sometimes the significance of something, or someone, is not clear at the moment itself.
 I left the love of my life a few years ago, he is now living with another woman.
And I never saw my muse again.
Since two months I have a boyfriend, Valentijn. It’s my first relationship since I became single in my mid 30s.
 Valentijn is young, ambitious, figuring out his life. Yesterday he had his first day of his higher education.
 New people, new girls. The first day at college had been a true peak experience, and one he wanted to share with me, so he called me at night.
 From the two of us, he’s the romantic one;
 Ensuring me he wants me to be part of his life, not to worry, not to compare, and he hugs me and tells me to have faith.
 Yet I know, there is no way of telling what is significant, or who.
 But he’ll know that 20 years from now.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

My diaries en erotica are available at my BOOK SHOP

coming soon: new books 

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020 

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow my 
English blog which I established in 2018:
laurenharteveld.com

Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

Facebook 
Twitter @LSHarteveld

I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW

tumblr_lz2qhqxqa81qfgkudo5_r1_250

{ originally posted in 2016 }

” I ain’t changing my show.”

ll give you the options. They just told me that there’s been complaints. That there are simulated orgasms, blah, blah, blah. It’s against their rules and regulations.”

“I am not changing my show.”

“I know you’re not, but can you wait five minutes for me to straighten it out?

“What’s to straighten out?”

Hopefully we can change their mind.”

” All you have to do is tell them I’m not changing my show.”

Madonna right before the Toronto concert,
from the movie Truth or Dare

The most frustrating thing about reorganizing your business, about choosing your target market, and doing market research, is that 98% of your work will be the wrong direction, will be eliminated, will be obsolete and a dead-end road, no matter how great it looked.
And only 2% will lead to the next step.
And then that too will not work out and your work starts all over again.
The past few days have been the most frustrating experience ever.
So the 2% that looked promising were:
Yoga for professionals, leading to
Yoga for entrepreneurs, leading to
Yoga for men, leading to
A DEAD END ROAD
Dead end road because I would have to stop writing under my sexy pen name because men are unable to focus on yoga if they think of sex all the time, requiring a reversed coming-out on my pen name persona.
This was something a man who would have be my dream client (had it been a sales conversation) pointed out. And it made me realize that he was right. He was right that my writing was a problem if it hadn’t been for one little tiny detail.
(I m gonna yell now)
MEN HAD ALWAYS BEEN A PROBLEM
Not all men. Most men had not. But if there had ever been problems, it had been a man, and it had been because I was a woman.
Years and years before I had my coming out as a sex writer.
In fact, it has not happened since!
So yes, I was irritated when he said I would have to hide “her” again.
But especially since I realized that even if I did that (which would be spiritual suicide) it would never be enough!
I was by definition the wrong person to target middle aged heterosexual newbies.
And if I traced my steps back this was also an obstacle to yoga for entrepreneurs, and yoga for professionals… I was so on the wrong track.
72 hours, and I had absolutely nothing to show for.
Back to the drawing board.
But I couldn’t let it go… not something that I had been so excited about. I love men 40-60! And I can understand perfectly why they refuse to start yoga, if it means taking group classes between singing bowls, women, and Patchouli scented candles.
In one last attempt to make it work, I mused over all the things I would have to do in order to create a neutral, yet powerful and success driven studio, with strong professional boundaries and an impeccable reputation.
1. Move to a fancier studio (starting at four times my current rent) or specialize in house calls.
2. Invest in a killer wardrobe.
3. Stop making cheesy Madonna videos.
4. Stop using these childish Crazy Sexy Cards.
5. Kill my pen persona or at least ban her to the darkest corner of the internet and swallow the key.
In short: I would have to give up everything I love about my work, love about my life, and sell my soul to the devil in exchange for a still not guaranteed baseline income.
And I knew I would hold this against all my future clients.
I had not changed a thing yet, yet I already felt resentful to the bone. I hated them for making me hide my identity, reversing my coming outs, and undoing any and all personal development of the last 25 years, so that yoga would be something they could digest from a teacher that didn’t confuse them with mixed signals.
But more, much more than this tribe of imaginary future clientele, I hated someone else;
I hated myself.
For being a coward. For backing out. Lying. Pretending. For having shame that I liked Madonna, Crazy Sexy Cards, sex, and teaching yoga.
And that I loved my terribly modest but incredible cosy basement studio.
You can’t please everyone, that is for sure. But you don’t need to. In fact I think the idea of doing something to please someone else is probably the root of all evil. For the reasons as mentioned above.
You re giving away power and you will hold that person accountable.
You will create grudges and will stop growing as a person, if you behave inauthentically in order to please someone else.
It’s always better to be resented for something you are, than to be loved for something you re not.
So they’re all welcome; the burned out professionals for relaxing yoga.
The skeptical entrepreneur to find the meaning of life.
And the heterosexual yoga newbie who wants a Rock Star package.
But it will have to be with me. Exactly as I am.
I ‘m not changing my fucking show.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

My diaries en erotica are available at my BOOK SHOP

coming soon: new books 

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020 

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow my 
English blog which I established in 2018:
laurenharteveld.com

Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

Twitter:

I’ve switched species

3a_3b{ originally written in 2017 }

Ever since I became single, I ve jumped down the rabbit hole and have been kind of surprised that even after ten years, it’s still a mess. Year after year, the thought grew stronger that I really needed to get my shit together.
Act like an adult.
Get organized.
PLAN – to stick with, not to then do something completely different.
Get some sort of control over my life.
Less than a year ago I still aspired this. I wanted to have a balanced life with a smooth running business, which I’d manage in a few hours of strategic desk work to then emerge a peaceful, poised example of a yoga teacher to my students. I would be like the always friendly smiling Marie Kondo of yoga teaching;
I had culled my life from all things chaotic, rooted out any disruptions, and lived my perfect yoga life.

I would also do ninety minutes of yoga every morning. Without checking Twitter or Facebook in advance.
Well okay, just Twitter then.
I really expected to be able to minimize my life and be off at four every day in order to, and remember the coach who said this; “Shower my babies with hugs and kisses”
That’s what adults did!
They managed their shit.
They didn’t get up in the morning promising herself she could touch her computer just a wee bit, to write a tiny little Facebook post. And then still be there at 4 pm, naked in a bathing robe, with coconut oil dripping down your face from your hair mask. That was entirely unprofessional!
For at least a year, but probably longer, I fought to get it right. Until one day, late December 2016 I discovered a coach who was something completely different. She didn’t organize, create, plan. She didn’t play by the rules, because she had been so long in business there were no rules when she started. Oh, and then there was that year when she did learn how to do things properly?
Know what happened?
She ended up a 100K in debt.
Hitting rock bottom made her return to what she had always done. And what she knew best; to do it her own way. Except this time, she really went all in and just UNLEASHED.
Oh. My. God.
It’s a good thing she has nannies and self-confessed has “reached the point where I don’t even know how to operate a washing machine” because unleashed does not sound like a safe condition to welcome the children home with.
But boy, does it sound exciting!
And yes, I know what she means.
She now laughs at coaches who teach you how to run your business in part-time, so you can have more time off.
“Time off of what? Your life?”
One time she was working in the lounge of a W Hotel. At 2 am she unplugged her earbuds, looked up from her laptop, and realized she had just spent four hours making sales, promotions, and creating content. And now everybody around her was dancing and the disco balls were flickering.
She had been pushing her multi-seven figure empire from the W night club.
The biggest mistake I ever made, was thinking I needed to slow down to gain control. There is no control if you are truly passionate about what you do. I tried quitting writing, in order to get around to publishing my books.
I literally felt like I had it nailed!
NO MORE WRITING!
Know what happened?
I started making daily YouTube videos, started organizing and reposting all my blogging, launched a video training for mistresses; And a year long program for my yoga studio.
In other words; while I was holding a firm lit on my writing, needing both hands, right behind me the fountain of creativity just EXPLODED!
Sometimes I think I ve switched species, ever since that coach.
It’s literally as if I am a whole new person than in 2016. Or as if the engine is already at six times more power, and the rest of me is still trying to keep up!
It’s so scary, but it’s such a big thrill.
And I understand why I was doomed to fail, at all those well-meant business advice formulas, and all that professional advice. You can’t tame, plan, smooth out or minimize something that can only be UNLEASHED.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

I’ve switched species  will be published in the first English book under my real name:
I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW

To read new posts and updates follow Twitter;
Facebook 
or subscribe to my diary HERE

NEW connect on Linkedin

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Select your store f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

You don’t dream somebody else’s dream

cfcaf12f58f1d0b1fb557c34af1173ee{ originally posted 2017 }

This morning I woke up from an auspicious dream about me and a hot local writer, who has become even more stunning ever since I started writing about him.
Due to an unlikely turn of events the writer and me were located at the same building. Kind of an creative-urban-retreat thing that would last only for a few days. This was my chance to spend time with him, girlfriend free.
And I wasn’t the only one looking forward to that.
Soon enough we were more engaged in each other, than with our next novel. Our make out sessions were absolutely wonderful, and I couldn’t wait to take things further. But there was a problem.
I hadn’t waxed my legs.
Just like in real life, I had a few super thin hairs, scattered sparsely over my legs. So it wasn’t like I was growing legwarmers or anything, but it was a deal breaker non the less. I wasn’t going to get intimate with someone dramatically close to my dream man, with anything less than a perfectly groomed body.

I woke up with a strong desire to wax my legs.
But the dream was more than that. In a few months I will see him, and I had pictured our rendez vous as my personal reward for getting my new body. I ve designed a program where I will get my pre-work addicted body back before the year is over. But despite having the best intentions; Despite knowing exactly what the main reason is I gained this (hence the classification pre-work addicted body);
Despite my yoga practice being accountable, because recorded for my membership group?
It still didn’t work..
Painful as it is to admit, I m getting nowhere. Well, almost nowhere. I did seem to have lost an inch around the belly, and my body has responded incredibly well to the few work-outs that I actually did, but mentally?
I m nowhere.
This weekend I gave in to my suppressed and therefor accumulated need to write blog posts, and I totally binge wrote. My awareness was either with the party I would later write about, or with the stories I was forming in my head running some mandatory errands, or my awareness was in my computer.
Which was my favorite place, because then I could get stuff out of my head and into a blog post.

After every blog post I felt light and refreshed.
But I was also hyper aware of my deplorable physical state. Unshowered, hadn’t seen daylight, still in pajamas, and it had gotten too dark to record a good yoga video. Should I miraculously have found the inspiration to do anything more than taking a shower for half an hour until my limb body parts had some life in them again.
And the addiction to writing hit me even worse because I still had the dream of losing 15 kilos and getting my old body back! But Plan A – getting fattening stress and work addiction under control – was absolutely unattainable. And my idea of becoming addicted to my yoga mat instead was downright hilarious. But getting thin with a work addiction, felt as impossible as dropping the pounds on a diet of peanut M&Ms.
The whole reshape plan had to go back to the drawing board.
This morning, I realized; you don’t dream somebody else’s dream. And you don’t live somebody else’s life. If writing comes through me, and wants to be born through me, not someone else, then that is my dream. That is my life. That is ME.
And if I have the desire to drop 15 kilos than that is my dream as well.

By thinking the only way I can lose weight is by ditching the highly addictive, blog based, daily online writing, I am basically sacrificing one part of myself for the other. It’s as stupid as cutting off an arm in order to lose weight; you’re going to need that, and it’s a part of you!
Not only do I believe that you only dream your own dreams.
I also believe that once you dream it, you can do it.
Plan A might have flawed, but I m glad it did. Because now I am forced to look for a way to manifest that the dream of having quiet time on the mat, and being athletic and thin, without cutting off the proverbial arm of my writing. If I currently, in this moment, have both dreams (of being thin, and being a writer), it means both dreams are mine, and both can become reality.
I don’t dream someone else’s dreams. Not one, not two, not even if I had a hundred of them they would still be all mine to have.
And even if the hot writer chooses his own path, makes his own decisions, and does not end up with me in December, it still doesn’t mean the dream wasn’t mine to have.
Just that I need to wax my legs more often.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

You don’t dream somebody else’s dream will be published in the first English book under my real name:
I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW

To read new posts and updates follow Twitter;
Facebook 
or subscribe to my diary HERE

NEW connect on Linkedin

BOOK SHOP
Gives a 25% discount on all prices
Select your store f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

How a wish to get hooked made me recreate my life

fall in ,love{ originally posted 2017 }

It could have been a productive Monday, if only I had stuck to my plan. But instead of creating new yoga classes and online videos, I wasted it watching dating advice.
I was coaxed into this from two sides.
One was via YouTube.

While watching Yoga with Adriene videos (which I use for my classes and online program) I was only two clicks away from watching my favorite dating coach who had a stash of easily digestible six minute videos.
And the other seduction was my InBox.
Being a pro at procrastination I had decided this Monday was the perfect day to purge my email box, and I stumbled upon two links this dating coach had sent me, because I am on her mailing list.
And I knew that despite their promising titles they would turn out to be empty sales pitches. And that if I clicked the external link to “The one thing men want” or “The three magic questions that will melt any man” that I would lose half an hour or more on a video that did not have a fast forward button or any other option to cut to the chase.
I would have to suffer through all the way-too-familiar stories about men withdrawing and losing interest, and real life examples of the women who managed to change his mind just in time using the technique they had learned from the Method You Could Buy For Only $149 If You Ordered Immediately.
Naturally The one thing men want as well as The three magic questions would not be in the free video.
Being well aware of all this, the fact that I still clicked probably illustrated how desperate I was for the magic pill to my love life, to be distracted from my yoga work, or both. Although I must admit one video did actually give some valuable insights, which I diligently wrote down with the intention to learn them by heart.
This would help to get our affair through this critical stage.
It wasn’t like we were fighting. Initially I had not even noticed something had changed because he gave me just enough attention not to get too worried. But when I had started looking back, and realized I was barely seeing him anymore, my perspective changed.
I could see the best-sex-of-my-life early summer and then him putting me on hold, or as I called it; in sansevieria mode.
I was given just enough water to stay alive.
That’s when I realized I could not afford any mistakes. I would have to stay calm, and use the few moments he contacted me extremely well. Maybe even better than “well”. Maybe I needed to learn new tricks and put more thought into exactly which strategy I was going to use to turn the next little spark of attention into a blazing desire for me.

I even checked my agenda to see if I could block out time to do a training about men that I still had not finished, and that I would probably have to redo completely by now..
No wonder I was losing him!

I had gotten sloppy. And if there is one thing, a secret mistress to a successful business man with complicated marital status and a stressful family situation cannot afford, it’s getting sloppy.
Good thing I found this free video in my email! Just in time! And from now on upleveling my dating skills would be at the top of my agenda.
That is until I thought;
Wait. Just. A. Bloody. Minute.
You see, ten years ago, I ended a long-term relationship because I wanted to start dating. And this was a personal mission for me, because I was haunted by fears that really didn’t allow for any sexual activity with anyone who was not screened inside and out and back. And yet that’s exactly what I desired on an emotional level;
To fall in love with men who were intriguing, borderline untrustworthy.

I knew I was done with garden variety men and the relationships they had to offer.
I wanted adventure.
In order to get myself in the mental shape to be able to enjoy this, I had to overcome a ton of deeply rooted fears, and reinvent myself several times. But every time a new man entered my life, I would catch up more quickly, speeding up the process till I could enjoy his company, until finally – eight years after I had become single – I met my current lover; Mr.Big.
Mr.Big was so high up there on my Scary-As-Fuck scale that the only way to get involved with him, was to root out the last of the fears and phobias that I was still carrying with me.
Mr.Big was the big fat price God put there for me, once I had reached the level of sexual “ease” (this word would make Mr.Big laugh, since he thinks I m the most high maintenance thing out there) I wanted.

And now here I was, almost three years into our affair. And I was seriously considering to block out time, learn new skills, and study the psyche of his species in depth, in order to miraculously turn Mr.Big’s faint interest in me, into something spectacularly wild and fresh.
One thing I have always been really good at, and I do praise myself for this, is before you invest a shitload of money, time and effort, to think about all the things you could also be doing with that investment.
For example: I spend about €50 a week on going out. That’s € 200 a month. Would I rather do this, or spend €200 a month on clothes, save it for a holiday, anything else?
No.
I think €200 a month is a fantastic investment because it’s money invested in seeing friends, movies, having a social life or even a LIFE. I spend a lot of time at home because of Little Cat who does considerably better if I am around. So I am. And for the remaining time of his life, I will never leave him alone for the night anymore.
So the €200 is the price of having a life outside of home. That’s a bargain.
Same with breaking up my long-term relationship and investing all those years overcoming my fears and dating; Good investment. I am now the woman I was set out to be.
But investing hours every day worrying, studying, and luring in, a man who is not even mine to begin with? Someone who, should he choose for me, would cause a lot of grief with his loved ones? There is no way to win that. And no way to justify that investment.
And that’s counting outside the more general worry that it might not be wise idea to invest in someone else, especially not at any moment he or she is not (yet) committed to you. Using the “What else could I be doing with these resources?” line of reasoning, you could acquire anything assuming you would throw the amount of resources at it that I was about to spend on our affair.
Instead of figuring out the three magical questions that would turn his heart to jelly, or how I can make him reclaim his position as the best lover I ever had, I have better things to do.
Just like ten years ago, when I had a clear vision of who I wanted to become – a path that was not tied to any man in particular – I am again putting all my cards on me.
Not on him.

And I tore the pages out of my diary, the notes on how to solve my man trouble. I tossed them out and rewrote;
“I know exactly what I need to do. Fall in love with me. Focus and fuss over my own emotions and mental patterns. Not his. Decide on how I want my life, business and body to look like, and invest everything I ve got into the relationship I ve got with ME.”
So in the end, it was an important and useful Monday, after all.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

How a wish to get hooked made me recreate my life will be published in my new book:
Big Mistress
confessions from the other woman

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You can poke my face anytime

May 17, 1950, Beverly Hills, Marilyn Monroe{ originally published late 2017 }

The year is drawing to a close, and I can honestly say that it is ending on the sweetest, highest note imaginable. For the first time in my life, I have “hacked” it.
For good.

This has to do with me finding my true calling and purpose work. But also with something else that I seem to get new levels of understanding of every time.
Love;
The joy is in the giving.

I have a little cat Max. He and my other now deceased cat Willem, have kept me more or less permanently home bound since 2009. My last night from home was in 2015 and I get a professional babysit to clean up and serve an extra portion of canned food, if I leave the house for longer than six hours.
Max is my number one priority.
But giving your time, money, energy without second guessing it, to a creature or a human trusted to your care, is the highest joy imaginable. If you have children (or a pet that you are attached to) I don’t have to tell you that. You know how good it feels to give it your all.
But to me, these dynamics were unheard of.
I had loving parents, but they never told me;
“It gives me such great joy to be here for you. I hope one day you ll have children (or if they were really broadminded; a pet) of your own because it is the best thing in the world.”
They didn’t say that.
And I do often hear;
“Children ask so much of you, but you get so much in return!”

No.
No “but” .
Because as soon as you make it conditional, you re on the wrong track.
People do it in relationships as well;
“I need you do this this and this for me.”
No, you don’t. Not really.
If you love someone you’re here to learn to stay true to those (your!) feelings, despite them behaving worst case scenario, in the most despicable way. That is your job. That is your reward. Not to have them behaving the way you think you want them to.
Don’t get me wrong.
I am very protective with regard to my boundaries. If a friendship or relationship (basically any other relationship than your child or your pet) threatens my financial security, my physical well-being or mental health? I will break up with them.
But that’s something entirely different than to stop loving them, or to be angry with them for breaking my trust or behaving in a certain way.
And the great news is, that if you do this consciously? If you overcome your ego (that demands that someone should behave like X, Y or Z, in order to be worthy of your love) and step into loving them instead? No matter what?
It’s pure ecstasy!
Like a love bomb exploding in you head.
Now with Max things are a lot less complicated. He wakes me up multiple times a night. He pokes my face, very gently, with his paw. And meows. He usually wants me to lift the blankets or he wants more canned food. And when it s not one of those two things, I assume he wants to be cuddled because I m kind of running out of options.
But whatever it is he needs? And no matter if he wakes me up once, twice, or waits until the morning before he pokes my face? I m always so happy I can do something for him.
That he s giving me an opportunity to be there for him.
Because the biggest joy is always, without exception, in the giving.
That is the return.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

You can poke my face anytime will be published in the first English book under my real name:
I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW

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