The greatest shift in my life was not finding someone strong. It was becoming someone safe — for myself. Safe enough to leave what harms me. Safe enough to stay where I am valued. Safe enough to soften without fear. That is the evolution.
Tag Archives: motherhood
Armor
I learned to sharpen my softness. To anticipate disappointment. To protect before I was asked to trust. Armor kept me alive. But it also kept me alone. Healing was not removing the armor. It was learning when I no longer needed it.
What I Once Called Love
I once believed love had to hurt to matter. That gentleness meant boredom. That calm meant indifference. I didn’t know peace could feel foreign when you’re used to surviving storms. Now I understand: love is not meant to destabilize you. It is meant to steady you.
The Girl I Was
She mistook chaos for chemistry. Intensity for devotion. Pain for proof. She thought love meant enduring anything — as long as it felt powerful. No one taught her that love should not feel like war. So she built armor from her wounds and called it growth. Now she knows better. The girl she was survived.Continue reading “The Girl I Was”
The Power Dynamic
Power dynamics in romance are rarely about dominance alone. They’re about trust. Submission without safety isn’t seductive — it’s frightening. Control without consent isn’t passion — it’s harm. The reason dark romance works for so many readers is because beneath the dominance is choice. She stays. She pushes back. She matches him in ways heContinue reading “The Power Dynamic”
Healing in the Gray
I don’t believe healing is light and airy. Most of it happens in gray spaces. In conversations that don’t go perfectly. In boundaries that feel awkward at first. In admitting you were wrong — or that you were hurt. Healing isn’t about becoming softer. It’s about becoming truer. Sometimes truth has edges. Sometimes it glows.Continue reading “Healing in the Gray”
The Parts We Hide
There are versions of ourselves we only show in pieces. The confident one in public. The calm one for the children. The playful one for our partner. But the tired one? The wounded one? The one who learned to survive before she ever learned to rest? That version rarely gets air. Healing doesn’t mean pretendingContinue reading “The Parts We Hide”
After Everyone Sleeps
There’s a version of me that only exists after 9pm. She is quieter. Sharper. Less patient with pretense. By day, I am composed. Measured. Responsible. I regulate. I organize. I carry. By night, I feel everything I’ve been holding. Desire. Exhaustion. Memory. Hope. I think about the things I want, not just the things IContinue reading “After Everyone Sleeps”
Reading Through It — Staying With Myself While the Story Sharpens
As I move through books like Deviant King, I stay aware of how the intensity builds — not just in the story, but in me. I notice when my body tenses. When it doesn’t. When a scene feels grounding instead of overwhelming. That awareness is something I didn’t always have, and I don’t take itContinue reading “Reading Through It — Staying With Myself While the Story Sharpens”
Conclusion: Holding the Whole Truth
Reclamation doesn’t ask you to pick a side. You don’t have to choose between honoring your trauma and honoring your desire. You don’t have to sanitize your healing to make it understandable to others. You are allowed to hold the full truth of your experience — the pain, the curiosity, the boundaries, the growth —Continue reading “Conclusion: Holding the Whole Truth”
Post 3: Why These Stories Exist
Stories that explore power, desire, and darkness don’t exist because people want to be harmed. They exist because people want language for complexity. Dark romance, taboo narratives, and emotionally intense stories give form to experiences that don’t fit neatly into polite conversation. They allow exploration without enactment, reflection without exposure. These stories aren’t instructions. They’reContinue reading “Post 3: Why These Stories Exist”
Post 2: Pleasure as Agency
Pleasure after trauma isn’t about indulgence. It’s about agency. Choosing sensation — whether emotional, physical, or relational — is a way of reclaiming ownership of the body and its responses. It’s saying, I get to decide what this means now. This isn’t about recreating the past. It’s about rewriting the context. What was once takenContinue reading “Post 2: Pleasure as Agency”
Reclaiming Pleasure & Power (Part II)
Post 1: Intensity Is Not the Same as Harm There’s a tendency to collapse intensity and harm into the same category — especially when trauma is involved. But they are not the same thing. Harm removes choice. Intensity does not. Intensity can be slow or sharp, quiet or overwhelming — but when it is chosen,Continue reading “Reclaiming Pleasure & Power (Part II)”
Reading Through It — Why I Trust Books as Containers
Books have become one of the safest places for me to explore intensity. They offer structure — beginnings, endings, pauses — without requiring anything in return. Unlike real life, nothing spills beyond the page. Power stays contained. Conflict resolves or doesn’t, but always within the boundaries of story. I’m not asked to participate, explain, orContinue reading “Reading Through It — Why I Trust Books as Containers”
Reading Through It — What Darkness Reveals Without Taking
Dark stories don’t take anything from me anymore. They reveal. They show me where my boundaries are solid and where they’ve softened. They show me what I can hold without absorbing. They show me that curiosity doesn’t equal danger when choice is present. I don’t read these stories to feel consumed. I read them toContinue reading “Reading Through It — What Darkness Reveals Without Taking”
Reading Through It — Staying Present With Intensity
Some books hold intensity in a way that doesn’t overwhelm me anymore. They don’t pull me forward recklessly or demand emotional urgency. Instead, they ask me to stay present — to notice what’s happening without needing to respond to it. As I read, I pay attention to how my body reacts before my thoughts catchContinue reading “Reading Through It — Staying Present With Intensity”
Conclusion: Holding What Was and What Is
Reclamation doesn’t demand answers or outcomes. It doesn’t ask you to define yourself by what you want or don’t want next. It simply allows room for complexity. You can honor the pain that shaped you and still choose experiences that feel different now. One does not erase the other. They coexist — quietly, honestly, withoutContinue reading “Conclusion: Holding What Was and What Is”
Post 3: Desire Is Not a Betrayal
One of the quiet lies trauma teaches is that desire is dangerous — or worse, inappropriate. That wanting anything more than survival somehow dishonors the pain that came before. But desire after trauma isn’t betrayal. It’s information. It speaks to the part of you that survived long enough to want again. To feel curiosity. ToContinue reading “Post 3: Desire Is Not a Betrayal”
Post 2: The Body Learning Safety
The body remembers long after the mind has made sense of things. Even when you understand your trauma intellectually, the nervous system may still react as if danger is present. Healing doesn’t rush that process. Safety isn’t something the body believes just because it’s told to. It’s learned through consistency, boundaries, and being witnessed withoutContinue reading “Post 2: The Body Learning Safety”
Reclamation After Trauma (Part I)
Post 1: Choice vs. Control Trauma is not defined only by what happened — it’s defined by the loss of choice that came with it. When autonomy is taken, the body learns to brace, to anticipate, to survive without consent being part of the equation. Healing doesn’t erase that memory. What it can do isContinue reading “Reclamation After Trauma (Part I)”
I don’t read to escape myself. I read to stay grounded while complexity exists.
Reading Through It — Why I Trust Stories More Than Explanations
Stories don’t tell me what to think. They let me feel and decide for myself. When a book explores darkness, I don’t see it as endorsement or instruction. I see it as observation. As a way of understanding how power, vulnerability, and desire intersect — without needing to live it out loud. That’s why IContinue reading “Reading Through It — Why I Trust Stories More Than Explanations”
Reading Through It — Fiction as a Boundary
I don’t read dark stories to blur lines. I read them because the lines are clear. Fiction gives me structure. A beginning and an end. A space where power, desire, and conflict are contained — not spilling into real life, not asking anything from my body or my choices. Books let me explore complexity withoutContinue reading “Reading Through It — Fiction as a Boundary”
Reading Through It — When a Book Holds Intensity Without Demanding It
Some books don’t rush me. They hold intensity without asking me to react to it. As I read Deviant King, I notice how my body responds before my thoughts do. Not excitement. Not fear. Awareness. A quiet recognition of power dynamics, restraint, and choice unfolding on the page. Reading like this isn’t about losing myself.Continue reading “Reading Through It — When a Book Holds Intensity Without Demanding It”
Letting the Past Speak Without Letting It Lead
Rewriting old poems reminds me that my past doesn’t disappear — it transforms. I can listen without reliving. I can remember without returning. I can honor without reopening wounds. Healing didn’t take my voice away. It taught me when to let it rest. And that feels like peace.
Honoring the Voice I Had Before I Was Ready
I didn’t know how to protect myself when I wrote those poems. I only knew how to be honest. That honesty mattered. It carried me through years where language was the only place I felt seen. I don’t judge those words now — I thank them. They kept me alive long enough to learn howContinue reading “Honoring the Voice I Had Before I Was Ready”
What Changes When Healing Learns Language
When I return to old poems, I notice how much has shifted. The emotions are familiar, but the urgency is gone. Where there was once desperation, there is now clarity. Where there was confusion, there is context. Healing didn’t silence those feelings. It taught me how to speak about them without bleeding onto the page.Continue reading “What Changes When Healing Learns Language”
Rewriting the Words I Once Used to Survive
These words were written by a version of me who didn’t yet know what I know now. She wrote from instinct, from pain she couldn’t name, from feelings she hadn’t learned how to carry safely. I don’t rewrite her to correct her — I rewrite her to understand her. There was truth in those lines,Continue reading “Rewriting the Words I Once Used to Survive”
The Quiet Work of Winter
Winter doesn’t ask me to bloom. It asks me to hold. To conserve energy. To listen more than act. To let things stay unfinished without labeling them failures. Healing in this season is subtle. It’s not loud or impressive. It’s the quiet decision to keep going without forcing optimism where it doesn’t belong. Winter isContinue reading “The Quiet Work of Winter”
Surviving a Season I Didn’t Choose
I didn’t choose winter, and I don’t pretend to enjoy it. But I’m here anyway. Healing sometimes looks like acknowledging that certain seasons are about survival, not transformation. About doing what’s necessary to get through without turning against yourself in the process. I don’t need to thrive right now. I don’t need to love whereContinue reading “Surviving a Season I Didn’t Choose”
Winter Without Romance
I’ve never been someone who romanticizes winter. It doesn’t feel cozy to me — it feels heavy. Confining. Like everything is paused without asking whether I’m ready to stop. Winter strips things down in a way that feels uncomfortable. The days are shorter, the air is colder, and there’s less room to escape inward feelings.Continue reading “Winter Without Romance”
I don’t read the dark to become it. I read it to understand myself.
Why I Don’t Soften My Reading Choices
I’ve stopped trying to soften what I’m drawn to. The stories I read reflect the complexity of my inner world — not something broken, but something honest. They allow me to explore emotions that don’t fit neatly into polite conversation or easy categories. Healing doesn’t require me to choose light over dark. It requires meContinue reading “Why I Don’t Soften My Reading Choices”
Reading Through It- The Difference Between Fantasy and Awareness
There’s a difference between indulging in fantasy and reading with awareness. I know where the line is now. I know what belongs on the page and what doesn’t belong in my real life. That clarity didn’t come from avoiding dark stories — it came from engaging with them consciously. Books give me a safe distance.Continue reading “Reading Through It- The Difference Between Fantasy and Awareness”
Reading Through It- When the Dark Feels Familiar
Some stories feel familiar in ways that are difficult to explain. Not because I’ve lived them exactly — but because I recognize the emotional landscape. Control. Longing. Obsession. The pull toward intensity when calm once felt unsafe. Books like this don’t shock me. They remind me. I don’t read darkness to romanticize it. I readContinue reading “Reading Through It- When the Dark Feels Familiar”
Being Where I Am Without Apology
I’m learning how to be where I am without rushing ahead or looking back with judgment. Some chapters take longer than expected. Some lessons repeat until they’re fully understood. And some seasons are meant to be lived, not analyzed. Healing has softened my relationship with time. I don’t need to be “further along” to beContinue reading “Being Where I Am Without Apology”
Stability Is Still Growth
For a long time, I believed growth had to feel uncomfortable to be real. If I wasn’t questioning everything, pushing myself, or emotionally exhausted, I assumed I was stagnant. But lately, I’ve realized that stability can also be a sign of healing — especially after chaos. Feeling calm doesn’t mean I’ve stopped evolving. It meansContinue reading “Stability Is Still Growth”
Learning What I No Longer Carry
There was a time when I carried everything — everyone else’s emotions, expectations, disappointments — as if they were my responsibility. Healing has slowly taught me how to set those things down. Not with anger. Not with resentment. Just with awareness. I’ve started to notice what actually belongs to me and what never did. WhatContinue reading “Learning What I No Longer Carry”
The Work That Doesn’t Announce Itself
Healing doesn’t always show up in visible ways. Some days it looks like doing the ordinary things without spiraling. Like responding instead of reacting. Like noticing when something doesn’t trigger me the way it used to — and quietly acknowledging that change without needing to celebrate it. I’ve learned that this kind of healing rarelyContinue reading “The Work That Doesn’t Announce Itself”
Reading Through It
I read to understand the parts of myself that don’t use polite language.
Reading Through It — What My Reading Choices Say About Me
I’ve noticed that my reading choices often reflect where I am emotionally — sometimes before I even realize it. When I’m drawn to darker stories, it usually means I’m ready to look at things I once avoided. When I lean toward emotional intensity, it’s often because I’m processing something beneath the surface. Books don’t createContinue reading “Reading Through It — What My Reading Choices Say About Me”
Reading Through It — Fiction as a Safe Place
Fiction has always given me a place to feel things without consequence. Through characters, I can sit with power, obsession, fear, devotion — all the things that are complicated in real life. I can examine them slowly, thoughtfully, without judgment. That distance matters. It keeps the exploration intentional instead of overwhelming. There’s something healing aboutContinue reading “Reading Through It — Fiction as a Safe Place”
Reading Through It — Why Certain Stories Stay
Some stories don’t leave when the book closes. They linger — not because they were shocking or dramatic, but because they touched something familiar. When that happens, I know the story wasn’t just entertainment. It was a mirror. It reflected parts of me I may not talk about openly — the hunger for understanding, theContinue reading “Reading Through It — Why Certain Stories Stay”
Healing Between Chapters — The Difference Between Escaping and Resting
People often confuse reading with escape. But escape feels frantic. Rest feels grounded. And when I read now, it’s not about disappearing — it’s about settling. My thoughts slow. My breathing evens out. The noise fades without me forcing it. That’s not avoidance. That’s regulation. Healing has taught me that rest doesn’t need to beContinue reading “Healing Between Chapters — The Difference Between Escaping and Resting”
Healing Between Chapters — Why I Read What I Read
I don’t choose books randomly. I gravitate toward stories that reflect where I am emotionally — or where I’m heading. When I’m drawn to darker narratives, it’s not because I’m broken. It’s because I’m curious. Because I want to understand power, resilience, survival, and desire in controlled environments. Fiction lets me explore intensity without beingContinue reading “Healing Between Chapters — Why I Read What I Read”
Healing Between Chapters — Reading the Parts of Myself I Don’t Talk About
There are parts of me I don’t explain easily. The darker curiosities. The complicated emotions. The desire to explore things safely through fiction before I ever try to name them in real life. Books give me that space. Through characters, I can sit with power, fear, longing, and vulnerability without having to justify it. IContinue reading “Healing Between Chapters — Reading the Parts of Myself I Don’t Talk About”
Healing Between Chapters — What Stories Wake Up
Some books don’t just entertain me — they wake things up. A line lands too close. A character mirrors something I thought I had already outgrown. And suddenly I’m aware of emotions I hadn’t named yet. Reading does that to me. It bypasses the defenses I’ve built and speaks directly to the places that areContinue reading “Healing Between Chapters — What Stories Wake Up”
Healing Between Chapters — You’re Allowed to Take Your Time
There is no deadline on becoming who you’re meant to be. I remind myself of this every time I catch that familiar urge to rush — to finish healing, to move on, to be “past” things I’m still gently working through. Books have taught me patience in ways nothing else has. Stories unfold at theirContinue reading “Healing Between Chapters — You’re Allowed to Take Your Time”
Healing Between Chapters — Reading as a Boundary
I’ve started noticing that reading has become one of my healthiest boundaries. When I open a book, I’m choosing where my attention goes. I’m stepping away from conversations that drain me, expectations that aren’t mine, and the constant pull to be available to everything and everyone. This isn’t withdrawal. It’s discernment. Healing has taught meContinue reading “Healing Between Chapters — Reading as a Boundary”
Healing Between Chapters — The Quiet After Intensity
After intensity — emotional, relational, or internal — there is always a quiet. I used to fear that quiet, mistaking it for emptiness or loss of momentum. Now I understand it differently. The quiet is where things settle. It’s where the lessons sink beneath the surface instead of staying sharp and loud. When I readContinue reading “Healing Between Chapters — The Quiet After Intensity”
Healing Between Chapters — When Rest Is Still Work
Some days, healing doesn’t look like breakthroughs or revelations. It looks like sitting with a book open on your chest, reading the same paragraph twice, and letting your nervous system finally unclench. I used to believe healing required effort — journaling until my hand cramped, digging through memories until something shifted. And sometimes that’s true.Continue reading “Healing Between Chapters — When Rest Is Still Work”
Healing Between Chapters
Some days, healing doesn’t come from writing it all out. It comes from sitting quietly with a story that knows how to hold the weight for you. Lately, I’ve been reading more than I’ve been explaining myself. Letting someone else’s words carry me through feelings I don’t yet have language for. Finding rest in theContinue reading “Healing Between Chapters”
Still Showing Up
Lately, my blog has been quieter in words and louder in images. Stacks of books. Spines worn soft from rereading. Stories that have held me when I didn’t have the language to explain myself. And I realized something important today: That still counts. There are seasons when writing pours out of me, and seasons whenContinue reading “Still Showing Up”
The greatest gift someone could give me is safety without control.
What is the greatest gift someone could give you? The kind of safety that doesn’t demand I be smaller, quieter, or easier to love. The kind that lets me exist fully — messy, healing, growing — without punishment. Time. Patience. Consistency. Someone who stays even when I’m not at my best. Someone who listens withoutContinue reading “The greatest gift someone could give me is safety without control.”
To the Girl Who Wrote This
I found my old words again. Written by a girl who didn’t yet know she would survive. She was honest before she was healed. Brave before she was safe. Soft in a world that didn’t protect her. If I could speak to her now, I’d tell her this: You weren’t weak. You were learning. AndContinue reading “To the Girl Who Wrote This”
Christmas Day — For Whoever You Are Today
Today is Christmas Day for some. For others, it’s simply another day that happens to fall in December. For some, it’s full of noise and tradition. For others, it’s quiet — or heavy — or something to get through. And all of that is allowed. You don’t need to feel grateful if you’re tired. YouContinue reading “Christmas Day — For Whoever You Are Today”
The Characters Who See Me
There’s always that one character — the one who feels too deeply, loves too fiercely, breaks too quietly. The one everyone misunderstands. I don’t read for perfection. I read for recognition. Because seeing my pain reflected in fiction reminds me that I was never alone in it. Someone else survived this feeling. Someone else foundContinue reading “The Characters Who See Me”
Grief — Part III: What It Leaves Behind
Grief changes you — not always in ways that are visible. It deepens your empathy. It sharpens your awareness. It teaches you how fragile and precious connection really is. What remains after grief isn’t emptiness. It’s tenderness. Memory. A quieter understanding of yourself and others. Healing didn’t remove my grief. It taught me how toContinue reading “Grief — Part III: What It Leaves Behind”
Grief — Part II: Learning to Live With It
I used to believe healing meant grief would eventually disappear. I know now that healing looks more like learning how to live alongside it. Some days, grief is quiet — barely noticeable. Other days, it resurfaces without warning, heavy and familiar. Healing hasn’t erased it. Healing has softened my relationship with it. I no longerContinue reading “Grief — Part II: Learning to Live With It”
Grief — Part I: The Quiet Weight
Grief doesn’t always arrive loudly. Sometimes it settles in slowly, without announcement. It lives in the things we don’t talk about — the relationships that ended without closure, the versions of ourselves we had to outgrow to survive, the childhoods that felt more like endurance than safety. This kind of grief doesn’t demand attention. ItContinue reading “Grief — Part I: The Quiet Weight”
Book of the day
“A Letter to the Girl Who Felt Everything Too Deeply”
To the girl who cried over small things because the big things were too heavy to touch— To the girl who loved too quickly, trusted too easily, wrote paragraphs for boys who gave her sentences— To the girl who walked through the world with her heart unshielded and her hopes unprotected— I’m proud of you.Continue reading ““A Letter to the Girl Who Felt Everything Too Deeply””
“The Poem I Wrote Before I Knew What Heartbreak Was”
I found an old piece of writing today— a poem I wrote before I ever knew what it meant to lose someone you weren’t ready to live without. The lines were messy, the handwriting tilted, but the emotion was real. I wrote about forever like it was something you could promise with a smile inContinue reading ““The Poem I Wrote Before I Knew What Heartbreak Was””
“The Girl I Was Before the World Got Loud”
There was a time when life felt quieter. Not easier—just quieter. Back then, my emotions lived in the pages of a notebook long before I learned how to speak them out loud. I wrote about boys who made my heart trip, friends who felt like home until they didn’t, and wounds I didn’t know wereContinue reading ““The Girl I Was Before the World Got Loud””
“The Chapters I’ll Never Get Over”
Every reader has that chapter — the one that rewrites your brain chemistry and sets up permanent residence in your memory. You know the ones: 🖤 The confession scene that hits harder because they didn’t know how to love yet 🖤 The moment he whispers her name like a vow 🖤 The fight that changesContinue reading ““The Chapters I’ll Never Get Over””
“Fictional Men I Shouldn’t Love But Absolutely Do”
I have a type. Not in real life— in books. My fictional type? ✔ Dangerous but protective ✔ Chaotic but loyal ✔ Emotionally damaged but emotionally devoted ✔ Morally grey but morally mine ✔ Cold to the world but warm to one single woman ✔ Toxic on paper, healing in practice Real men: “I’m notContinue reading ““Fictional Men I Shouldn’t Love But Absolutely Do””
“The Books That Ruined Me in the Best Possible Way”
Some books don’t just take your breath — they steal your pulse. They grab something deep inside you, twist it, and leave you staring at a wall like you need emotional CPR. Every dark romance reader knows that feeling: 💔 a sentence punches you right in the ribs 💔 the MMC says something so unhingedContinue reading ““The Books That Ruined Me in the Best Possible Way””
“Soft Doesn’t Mean Weak. Dark Doesn’t Mean Broken.”
People always assume you have to be one or the other— the soft girl or the dark girl. But I’ve always been both. Soft in my hope. Soft in my heart. Soft in the way I care too deeply for the people I allow close. But dark in my healing. Dark in my desire. DarkContinue reading ““Soft Doesn’t Mean Weak. Dark Doesn’t Mean Broken.””
“The Woman Who Learned to Want Without Apology”
I used to hide the parts of me that wanted too much. The needing, the longing, the craving for something deeper than casual hands and colder conversations. I thought my desire made me difficult. Too intense. Too emotional. Too much. But wanting isn’t a flaw. It’s a truth. And I’ve learned to hold that truthContinue reading ““The Woman Who Learned to Want Without Apology””
I Don’t Break the Way I Used To”
There was a time when heartbreak felt like the end of me. When a single silence, a single distance, a single shift in someone’s tone could send me spiraling back into every wound I never learned how to close. But I’m not her anymore. I don’t shatter at the first sign of tension. I don’tContinue reading “I Don’t Break the Way I Used To””
“The Chapters That Break You Are the Ones You Remember”
Every reader has a moment — that one chapter that doesn’t just hurt, it haunts. You know the feeling: 💔 You pause and stare at the wall 💔 You reread the paragraph three times 💔 You whisper “no no NO” even though it’s fiction 💔 Your chest feels heavy 💔 Your trust issues get worseContinue reading ““The Chapters That Break You Are the Ones You Remember””
“Why I Always Fall for the MMC First”
It never fails — I meet the male main character and suddenly my standards rise like I haven’t been disappointed before. Maybe it’s because: ✔ Fictional men apologize without being defensive ✔ They communicate even when it’s uncomfortable ✔ They’re protective in a way that feels safe, not controlling ✔ Their devotion is loud, notContinue reading ““Why I Always Fall for the MMC First””
The Kind of Love I Learned From Fiction”
Books taught me a version of love that reality sometimes forgets. Not perfect love. Not soft, easy love. But the kind that feels lived-in — earned, cracked, tested, and still standing. Fiction showed me: ❤️ Devotion that doesn’t disappear when things get hard 🖤 Lovers who choose each other in the darkness ❤️ Healing thatContinue reading “The Kind of Love I Learned From Fiction””
— “I’m Allowed to Want More”
I used to shrink myself to fit into smaller stories. Ones where wanting too much made me “dramatic,” where needing depth made me “complicated,” where craving intensity was something I had to apologize for. But I’m not that girl anymore. I want more than survival. I want warmth that doesn’t disappear in the morning. IContinue reading “— “I’m Allowed to Want More””
— “Desire Is a Kind of Truth”
There’s something intimate about admitting what you want. Not the surface wants— the deeper ones. The ones that live in the space between your ribs, in the quiet hours, in the places you hide from the world. Wanting is vulnerable. Letting yourself be wanted is even more so. For a long time, I carried desireContinue reading “— “Desire Is a Kind of Truth””
Reading Trauma Mama: Velvet & Taboo 