Showing skin…

I was once standing naked in a room, when a whole bunch of guys stormed in. Luckily I had read a lot of criminal novels, so I knew exactly what to do – run to the door they were entering from, press myself against the wall and sit down. I.e. be in the spot they were the least likely to look at. My stunt succeeded and they never saw me, as a bunch of angry (and dressed) girls chased them out of the room before they got a chance. I was ten to twelve years old and the idea of having a shower in the girls changing room never became the same.

When I was around eight or so I was at daycare one day, sitting with my friends drawing, or something in the hobby room. A boy walked in. A certain boy walked in. The boy every girl fancied. (Including my now best friend, but we didn’t know each other at that stage.) One of my friends burst out “Maria likes you.” He stopped in the doorway, turned to me and went: “Is that true?” The thought “It’s close to Christmas, you shouldn’t lie,” went through my mind. “Yes.” He looked at me a little longer, turned around and left the room.

When I was fifteen there was this guy who I had a lot of classes with. He was an arrogant bastard, but over summer he had turned…soft. He was really popular and had straight As in just about everything. So we used to compete on every test who could score the best. Or rather: he was competing with me and it infuriated me, so of course I started competing with him. He was rather nice sometimes. I remember him trying to explain to his best friend (who was in love with my step-sister for a while…that was a close call to getting an idiot in the house) why one shouldn’t bully people. His best friend did not understand his argument.

So having a competitive nature and all that, and probably thinking this dude was the only one with enough brain cells in a ten-mile radius, I fell in love with him. At first I didn’t really care that much, but then I told a friend of his who went to my class, to try to gauge if he liked anyone. Well, his friend obviously walked straight up to him and said I liked him, having sworn not to do so. And then a couple of interesting weeks of this guy staring at me and doing weird shit to talk to me ensued. So then a rumour started that he liked me. And one day I walked into a classroom when his friend asked him if this was the case, in front of the whole class and just as I walked in he went: “No one could ever fall in love with someone like her.” That was the day I died.

At sixteen I had left the village where I grew up, doing the International Baccalaureate program in another town, so I got rid of most people who considered me a geek and started a new life, where I was absolutely obsessed with covering up my past, especially my non-existing romantic history. Besides, most people at the IB were geeks as they had decided to choose the most difficult high school program that existed. We had to do tests to get accepted. That’s when I wrote about saving the kids in Africa. I did not see myself as the heroine of a romantic adventure, straight from my bookshelf, or anything like that.

Anyway, obsessed with the idea that no one should find out about my non-existing romantic history, I was still quite…me. I loved crazy ideas and stuff, so come Valentine’s I thought it a splendid idea to send a rose to a guy I thought was cute. And I didn’t even like him, he was just cute. But apparently people in Sweden are bit behind and thought this was the news of the century – a girl who joined us in the third year still got to hear this story. I think the poor bloke had never received roses in his life and I felt utterly humiliated.

Age seventeen and on the loose in Vancouver I was starting to feel like the biggest idiot in the world – who has never been with a guy age seventeen? Me. So I made out with some random American soldier who I found repulsive, and who proceeded to tell me about killing people during the war. I then ended up feeling even more ashamed because who is such a low life they decide to make out with a random loser just to make out with somebody?

My love life did perk up after this, but I had sworn on my mother’s grave, or something to that effect, that I would not have sex until I loved someone. And I had to wait until the night I turned twenty-one for this, at which time I had almost succumbed to the idea that no one would ever love me.

I then ended up in a very long relationship with someone, who, in the end decided, the last week, to cheat on me. Which is when I decided that if someone I used to trust with my life can cheat on me…then I’m properly fucked for life. I mean I knew he was cheating, because vivid scenarios played up in my head when he told me what he had been doing for a day – scenarios he was not talking about. I knew whom he had really been with and what he had been doing, but instead of thinking I was psychic, I thought I was going mad.

I felt really good after the break-up, realizing I had been in a relationship that was never quite right beyond the first few months, but I still had nightmares for about six months. And what left me the most scarred was the idea that I had allowed a relationship like that. How I could have accepted that into my life. Not like parts of it, but the end of it. And bless the man, he loved me and I can still happily say I love him, but we were young and we were both idiots in some aspects, including the fact that we stayed with each other for so long.

Fast forward two, or three years and I was just about to move to Los Angeles. Online I met this guy from LA that was just…amazing…and for the first time I felt like someone actually liked me . Truly liked me. A guy that actually turned me on in every way, as opposed to my ex, who never felt quite right. We would talk on the phone and on chat, for like eight hours straight. I let all my guards down. I was certain that was it – it was the first and actually still only time I had felt anything like that. He was simply so right in every way possible. And to his defense he really was looking for love, but I think he is the most emotionally retarded person and cheater I’ve ever met. And by lord I felt humiliated having believed in him. His bed though, was fucking amazing. There’s always a plus side…right? That bed and triple orgasms. Thank you God.

My self-confidence in the last, almost six years, since I was in a steady relationship, has soared. I have realized men chase me. A lot. I have realized I am beautiful and wonderful and amazing. I have more friends and love in my life than I have ever had. I feel so blessed finally setting off for my dream of Africa and working with film, theatre and people. And still, there is a tiny part of me that says I need high heels and an armour of steel to pretend I’m not vulnerable, I have no emotions and I most certainly am fine all by myself. And I need to be just a little bit more perfect.

When I feel hurt, or humiliated in public, just as I did as a kid, I want to shut everyone out and escape to Antarctica. Then I realize I can’t direct Leo Di Caprio in Antarctica and it all goes to hell…but, but…this whole vulnerable thing…I feel I have been doing a good job with it until yesterday. That’s when I wanted to pack my bags for Antartica. And that’s why I’m writing this now. Because it feels so, so cringy. And so real. And I want to be able to be that open. I want for others to have a space to be that real and open. And I really want to attract real and open people into my life.

The only way to attract and be with real and open people, is to be real and open. All this shit in my past means nothing. I still fear people will judge me for it, especially writing it on an open forum like this, but that’s why I want to do it. Because there are millions of people out there who have suffered much worse than me, who think because of their past they can’t be/have/do things. And it’s all utter poppycock, because all you have is this moment. And in this moment, I’m real and open. And the past? It’s gone. I’m a playful, open and honest person. I believe those nude shots proved it (if you missed the latest news, someone published some nude shots of me on Facebook yesterday as they misunderstood the term “only showing certain parts of my body” Well…there was a guitar covering my front… And that’s the day I discovered the difference of being naked in reality – no biggie – and online – biggie. I felt so vulnerable, knowing people could see me in a vulnerable state. “Miss Au Neutral I love being naked and celebrating the body” had a freak show.). Had this not been coupled by someone accusing me of having emotions, I’m sure it would have been fine, but rumour had it I had emotions. And this scenario of all those men went through my head as I saw the shots online. There is still an album on Facebook with a headline saying something like “I loved doing nude shots with Maria, such a natural and happy model, dream come true to capture the female body” and I still catch my breath, even if there are no real nudes in the album…and panic thinking I’m publicly humiliated…but I was just being vulnerable, real and open. Just as I would love.

Showing skin is cool. In every sense of the word.

Flash dancing…

The tasteful nude…

So normally we walk around with our clothes on right? And our hearts closed…or what was that again???

In our day-to-day dealings with people we may prefer to wear clothes. It could get distracting and damn cold otherwise. However, when it comes to our near and dear ones I would like to at least be naked metaphorically speaking. In other words: I want to be honest, because what is there without honesty? Is there a real relationship with another person if you aren’t honest with them? What are they connected to if it isn’t you? The real you?

I think honest connections is one of the most beautiful things on the planet. People who dare to be themselves with you. People who trust that you can handle the truth. People who value you enough to speak their truth in a loving way. And people who love you for who you truly are. Love your heart and soul. That’s the best compliment one can get me thinks.

So yeah, I guess I think nudes are tasteful. Start stripping for the camera people!!!! (…I mean, show your heart to the lens…)

Strip…I mean sing, to your heart’s content…

When your sex life is a mess…

Did I fuck you, or you fuck me, or did we just fuck?

If someone says: “Honestly, our sex life is terrible darling,” how do you deal with it? Do you start to defend your moves and grooves in the bedroom? Do you get angry? Do you feel fear for being judged, with no allowance for improvement? Do you blame it on the person who uttered the words? Would you rather end the relationship than having to question and/or sort out your own/your partners abilities? Did you already know it, but neglected it as you’d rather have a poor sex life than dare to bring it up with your partner and risk ending up with no sex life at all? Did your partner utter the sentence filled with love, compassion and a willingness to do her/his utmost to create the most marvelous sex life on the planet, or was s/he filled with blame, anger, fear, or frustration? How honest are you prepared to be when questioning your sex life and other relationships, including the one you have with yourself (no not your masturbation techniques, different chapter)?

Honesty. We talk about it a lot, or at least many of us throw it out as a description rather often. “I like honesty. I want honest friends and employees. Honesty is a good trait. Honest people are nice.” Yet, what is honesty? You can be honest with someone and yet only tell them part of the bigger picture. You can use honesty to hurt, or to heal. You can speak honestly from your mind, with your heart completely closed. What is good honesty?

I started thinking about stories recently…or, well, I always think about stories, but this week in particular as I heard three different versions of the same story, one being my own version. So I started pondering how honest the three different stories were. In all fairness I can’t say that anyone was lying, but due to different people choosing to talk about different parts of the story and ignoring others, the story looked very different from the three different perspectives. It’s like saying: “Jake took my purse.” v.s. “Jake took my purse to go buy the oranges I asked him to buy for me as my car broke down and they were too heavy to carry on foot.” In one story Jake is a thief, in the other a hero.

It can also be a very different story depending on if a person is constructing a story to work in their favor, or just sharing from their heart exactly what they are feeling.

What’s more, it can, of course, get very confusing if the person who is sharing the story isn’t thinking with their heart, but rather with their mind and have no clue of what they are actually feeling or what was really going on as they saw it through their own lenses, their own filters of reality. If you are very perceptive you may even feel that they are saying one thing, but feeling another, but they themselves don’t even know it – if anything they may just not be able to make the story make sense in their own minds. If, on the other hand, they are speaking with both their heart and mind and the two are disagreeing – one minute their heart is speaking, the next minute their mind and the mind and heart have opposing ideas of what is true – it can get even more confusing. For example, from January or so this year my heart was telling me to go to London for God knows what reasons, but my mind was telling me to stay in LA for plenty of reasons. Now, until I had figured this out maybe I shouldn’t have been confusing other people with my ideas back and forth, but that’s easier said than done as we often blurt out what’s going on in our hearts and minds to those close to us.

My choice of cities could have further confused people if say, with person A I always spoke from my heart, person B my mind, person C I didn’t tell anything at all to and person D got both my heart and mind. How I related to these people may be much because of how they related to me and/or much because of what I was most connected to at the time (heart, or mind). It may also be that I didn’t know up from down myself and simply shared whatever I believed/perceived to be the truth, but that may still not stop them from thinking I should have acted differently in my story telling once they found out what my final decision was (to stay stuck in the middle, or follow my heart, or mind). What’s more, they might very well have their own idea about what my mind and my heart should be like, as it would suit them better. Story telling can be bloody confusing until the day you say sayonara to everything but your own heart. Screw everything else: it’s the heart that counts. (That’s my not so humble opinion.)

If people aren’t listening to their hearts, but rather their logical reasoning, their learned ideas about themselves and life…then they are creating unreal stories in their lives and probably living them too. From an outside perspective you may see that the person got the wrong end of the stick (or the dick), but as the person is believing in the story they have created, it’s their reality. Their emotions are reacting to the story they have created in their minds, however unreal, but the emotions are real. Chemicals have gotten created and the person can feel them, yet something inside may tell them that something dodgy is going on, no matter how great the emotions. Talk about confusion!

What I also came to ponder is the fact that you are continuously creating stories about people and most of the time you aren’t sharing the stories with the people they are about. How many times have you sat down with your friends and shared the story about them and you? How you see your friendship from day one till now? I came to think about this as someone started asking me questions about someone whom I believe I have been honest with. I believe I have shared my heart with them, I have shared my feelings, my thoughts and what have you. What suddenly hit me though is that the story I would tell if someone asked me to tell the complete story from day one till now of our friendship, well that story the person the story is about had never heard.

Think about it like this: you go on vacation, you have a summer fling and you are, in the moment with that person open, free, what have you. When you get home friends ask you about your fling and you tell them a story. A story you probably never told the person you were having the fling with. So even if you were honest with the person at the time, it’s unlikely you sit down and tell them exactly how you see your whole story with them and how it’s impacted your life, the lessons you’ve learnt, what they gave you, etc.

This story creating goes for family, friends, business partners, mentors, what have you – we are constantly creating stories and, at times, very biased stories. Even when people tell you you are a great blessing, they really appreciate you, you have brought them joy and wonders, they may never get anymore specific than that. You may think you gave them one thing, but they may feel utterly blessed for another that you didn’t even consider a gift.

What further came to mind is that when we build connections with people, if we do so based on a story we have invented, rather than a genuine connection springing from our heart and soul, we are bound to live in fear. Fear that the money, or looks, or moves we used to impress them with will sooner or later fade, or they will discover we never possessed them in the first place. The story I used to choose to tell men could be rather fascinating, whether I told it in words, or actions, or the way I chose to dress. I liked to sort of…hmm…sex things up and remove the emotions as somewhere along the way I started to think that men want heartless women who are great in bed and will leave them when the morning comes. I was potentially mistaken in this conclusion. Just potentially. I also, at some point, came to realise that if I tell this heartless sex story I will end up with men that want something I can’t offer, as uh, I do have emotions, I do care and I do make people breakfast in bed. If you don’t like to be doted on, I’m not your girl.

My logical mind was trying to protect my heart by living in accordance with an idea it had gotten from information that had been provided, but the only way to protect your heart is to be true to your heart and live from a space of love. When you are what you want, you get what you want, whether you logically realise what that is or not.

Another thought appeared to me as I was talking about person A together with person B. Now, it was quite clear that we perceived this person very differently, so it hit me that it might be a bad idea to listen to another person’s idea of someone as they have created a story based on who they are first and foremost, not who the person they are talking about is. Also, how the person they describe relates to them is much because of what they put out there. If we believe a person is a devil it may be because we made them behave as a devil, or appeared as a devil to them. If we believe a person is an angel, it may be because we behaved as an angel to them, or appeared as an angel to them. Of course we all have individual responsibility – if someone tells me I’m an ass I can tell them I don’t agree and that’s that, or I can slap them, or tell the whole world they are an asshole – my behavior, no matter how “triggered” by someone else, is my choice. And speaking of which: when we create stories we often say “because s/he did this, I did that, or I learnt this, or I feel like this.” Now, that’s making them responsible and you are the one whose life is being ruled by someone else. Know that you can, to some extent at least, choose what to think and how to react. It’s like a history class with Mr Y – one student loves Mr Y and history, another student hates history, but loves Mr Y. Yet another student hates history and Mr Y and yet another one hates Mr Y, but loves history. Now, who will try to learn about history during these classes and who will occupy their minds more so with the teacher than with the subject? And who will choose to disregard their own preconceived ideas and just get on with the topic at hand and learn what they need to learn?

As I see it, if you want to learn about life, then every person you meet and every event you are part of becomes a tool for learning; an asset if you so like for gaining deeper knowledge and becoming more able to deal with things yet to come. If you, on the other hand, think life is nothing but a series of unexplainable and unpredictable events you may not ponder about it at all and, consequently, think you have no say about how your life goes – you are at the mercy of others and life itself.

Because I believe that you mainly (not necessarily always as there are other influences too) get what you attract (or consciously/sub-consciously look for and therefore walk up to when you spot it), I don’t necessarily want to blame anyone for what they so to speak caused me – I want to look inside myself so that I can create what I want within me and therefore be drawn to what I want in the future. And let’s face it – it’s often when things go tits up that we start to question what’s going on inside. We don’t always stop to ponder the small things, but when there is no way of closing our eyes to what’s going on, we are forced to listen and, therefore, if we so wish, start changing things within ourselves.

Taking responsibility for your insides does not make other people nice if they do something unpleasant, nor does it mean that you should stick around them. It simply means that you may wanna have a look inside of you to see what created this, whether it was fear, suppressed anger, belief systems…you name it. Otherwise you are likely to end up in the same situation, or with a similar influence in your life, whether event or person, in the future. You may actually be pushing/provoking situations and people to prove your ideas right. Most things for that matter can be sorted with a bit of love – live from a place of love and your life will take blissful turns. When I say this I also have to point out that living from a place of love does not mean getting rid of your spine – stand up for yourself, point out when people are abusing their relationship with you, just do so from a place of love and compassion. Soon that love and compassion will come back to you. I believe whatever you talk about, even the unpleasant stuff, needs to come from this place. If nothing else, it removes people’s’ wish to defend themselves and go against your words. It removes fear and anger. If you want to be honest just to hurt someone, you may as well lie – it will have equally disastrous effects. If it doesn’t come from a space of love, it will backfire.

So guys, next time you talk to your lover about your sex life…have a heartfelt think before you blame them for the sexperiment where you did the doggie dressed in pink leather atop the Empire State Building…or praise them for the best sex of your life – maybe it just so happened that you were co-creating that experience… Go make love to the world – honestly speaking, it could do with some TLC…

The vagina…

Being scared of who you are is not easy...

Yeah, I know – it’s that thing women have. That one thing that partly separates us from men, but also makes us compatible with them. Give them an opportunity to connect, so to speak. It’s a beautiful thing, right?!! It enables lives to be made. It enables pleasure. It enables the male-female connection to happen physically. Yet, the vagina has gotten a few bad names in history. It’s taboo. It’s like any liberating thing in history: they wanted to control it. Why I’m not sure. Don’t masturbate – it’s bad for you. Don’t think about vaginas if you are a man – it’s bad for you. Don’t be who you are, don’t have a vagina, it’s really nasty.

I just read the vagina monologues. I know. I’m behind. I probably should have done so a long time ago. Woman wanting liberation. Woman spending her life, since fourteen, in hot pursuit of liberation. Of releasing. Of relaxing. Of daring to be without pretence. Woman wanting to be woman. Nothing more, nothing less. And, yet, she didn’t read the vagina monologues until today.

Still, this liberation fighter (because she was completely not liberated in her childhood, a captive of her own incapacitating beliefs about herself) had an issue writing this post. Why? It contains the word “vagina.” The thing 50% of the population have. A beautiful body part. But you aren’t supposed to talk about it. What would people think? They already defriend me because of overtly sexual headlines. Wouldn’t “vagina” be to take it too far? But it’s part of who I am and I have no intention of being ashamed of who I am anymore. So I think it’s OK. I think it’s OK to talk about vaginas. In fact, I think it’s absolutely terrific to talk about vaginas.

People (or should I say “society”?) have a lot of ideas about who we should be, what we should do…what’s right and what’s wrong. It’s a very serious business this life. So serious you have to wear a suit and a tie to match it (and I’m not talking about doing it for the sex appeal right now…there is that factor too)…but why? What’s the purpose? Is success a house in the suburbs, not having sex before marriage, or having sex way before marriage (depends where you grew up), 2.5 children, manicured nails, great taste (the one that fits in) and a fat bank account? Or is it simply to be happy – indulge in the beauty and the pleasure life can give you, and serve humanity and this planet as best as you can?

We, ourselves, have a lot of ideas about right or wrong. Someone molested us as children, so we think we are bad. We had bad parents, so we think we are doomed, on some level, to act like them. That we have been poisoned by their poison. Someone told us we were stupid, or geeky, or shy, or dirty, or this or that and we believed them. We acted it out. Then we believed ourselves and the image we had created. They never created it. They just did something and we assumed it was a reflection of us, when really, it was probably a reflection of them. Of who they were.

Some of us have had the realization that what we believed in wasn’t true. Yet, it may take years to understand it. To not follow it like a dogma anymore. To believe in a different self-image. Because what are we? We are humans. Inside us we may have a talent, or a trait, or something that defines us (you know that center that feels like that would be you under any circumstance? Those longings, pulls, dreams inside of you that seem to have been there since get go? Those things you have always done, always felt? Your soul?), but the rest is up to us to create and that’s hard for most of us to grasp, because we want to know who we are. What we are like. We do tests in magazines to find out what kind of people we are attracted to, or what kind of personality we have…we want a definition. Yet, we will forever be work in progress. There is no set definition. The person in your childhood who was a bad role model, or treated you badly, did not define you. You can find a different role model and someone who treats you nicely and let that define you. If you want a definition.

Shouldn’t we live in that place inside our hearts where we are free? Where we know there is nothing shameful, or bad about us. Where we know we may have impulses we do not like, or thoughts that stink, but knowing we have an option. A choice. A choice as to what we act out. And even so we may fail at times because an autopilot kicks in, rendering us helpless to habit, but knowing we are walking in the right direction and we have to forgive ourselves. Punishing ourselves by thinking we are bad will only lead to more bad, so that we can feel even worse…a cycle of punishment. We have to give it up and learn to love ourselves. Then our actions will change automatically. We will feel love, so we will act with love. We will understand the pain we have been through and the pain others go through, because they have defined themselves without love. We will experience sympathy. And we will know we are OK. We will forgive ourselves.

It’s taken me about 14 years to come to terms with who I am. Of just being. Of knowing that my vagina is just fine, even if it is crooked, or small, or big, or…whatever it is. Of knowing I’m not a shameful thing. Of knowing my presence does not embarrass, or put a burden on others, like I thought it did as a kid. Of knowing that my feelings are OK. Of knowing that my love for others is not a punishment for them. Of knowing that yup, I make a fool out of myself ever so often either from clumsiness, or ignorance on a subject, or simply by being in love and walking into lamp posts…but I’m fine. I don’t have to be great at everything. Don’t have to be perfect. I can just relax, enjoy life and do what I love. That’s what life is about: love. Doing what we love, indulging in things and places that we love, loving ourselves and others. That’s success, right there. No matter what your vagina looks like.

And still, the idea of being in front of a man I love, or at a huge social gathering and daring to be just that. No pretence. No covers. No impressing shit. Just sitting there staring him/them in the eye and being me scares the hell out of me. Not because it actually scares me that much anymore, I like this state of being, but because I’m scared I am not able to relax that much yet. Years of thinking fearful thoughts makes me automatically switch on. In social settings I catch myself wondering what everyone thinks of me, suspecting no one truly likes me and when it comes to men it gets even worse. It’s just a pattern though. All I have to do is relax and be in the moment, knowing that I am comfortable in me now. I like me. I don’t think there is anything wrong with my vagina anymore. That there is a dark spot inside of me, that when discovered everyone will dislike me. That is simply the ghost of a childhood past.

Life becomes so pleasurable this way. Enjoying your vagina. Enjoying all that is you. The miracle that is you. You don’t have to wear a suit, you just have to be you. Naked. Raw. Open. More vulnerable and open than you have ever been, yet more protected because you are protecting you. You know you won’t believe in harsh words about you, or harsh thoughts. You are OK, just as you are.

I’m Superwoman…or Cat Woman…in a really tight suit…

Who are we under the mask???...

Ever wanted to be a super hero? Cat Woman would have been  my pick. I liked her…cattiness…and that suit… If you have ever been to a Halloween party in LA though, you know that there are a lot of Cat Women walking about and…some in a bit too tight suits. Like they squeezed in, but they don’t fit comfortably in there. And they are just about managing to walk in them über high heels. It doesn’t look very comfortable.

I guess we all wish we had super powers, right? That we would fit into that suit. That we could go out and save the world. That we could be heroes in the eyes of the world…or at least in our own eyes. And most of us try, in one way or another, to do good. To achieve things that will help us with our lives and those around us. The thing is also: most of us do succeed. We do achieve something. We do develop. We do help others.

The sad part of this is that many try to fit into a suit that doesn’t fit them. They present themselves in a way that isn’t true to who they are…they want to fit in, or be accepted, or something…so they pretend to be something they aren’t. Or they may be that side, but that’s not all there is to them. Most of us have more than one side to our personality.

Most people get humbled and feel honored if you share your heart with them. If you show your own vulnerability. This is not the same as racking down on yourself. That would be bad PR. You have to learn to share things in an…appertizing way.

People who present themselves as “better” than they are, often appear to have massive egos, be cocky and so on, because they are putting on a facade. They are protecting something and their protection usually come off as a not so nice attitude. And people feel a bit offended. It creates admiration, but it may also create jealousy and hate. Because who can relate to Superman or Superwoman? Who doesn’t feel small next to perfection? And who doesn’t feel good when Superman or Superwoman are then racked down on in the press? Who doesn’t gloat when their image goes to hell? On the other hand, who can’t relate to having flaws and working at them? Who can’t relate to being good at something, if not everything? Who can’t relate at striving to be the best you can be?

If you are a leader, yes, you have to show why you should be a leader. You have to show your talents, your success, whatever, but to present a false image…in the end it will only lead to you yourself feeling small. Because you will feel that the people who admire you do so for reasons that aren’t real and if they knew the real you…they wouldn’t like you. Instead of feeling the success you have created for yourself, you will feel the opposite – all the things you haven’t created.

By being yourself you also help others being themselves. You set them free to be OK with who they are. Otherwise they will continue to feel small in comparison to you.

As I see it there is nothing more empowering, more inspiring than seeing a person fighting for becoming a better person. Someone who accepts what is, but doesn’t stay there…s/he progresses. However, if you deny an issue…if you don’t face it…if you hide it in the corner of your mind, or make excuses for it (believe me…there are excuses, reasons, whatever the monkeys…but are they worth it? Is it worth clinging onto the sucker who told you at 16 you were unlovable? I did for about twelve years. It wasn’t worth it. Not at all. I was blind to love for twelve years. It didn’t hurt him. It hurt me.). You aren’t “bad/unlovable/shit/unworthy/not good enough/crap/worthless/stupid” because you have a problem or issue. You are human. You are most lovable. You need to face your issues. Kick yourself in the ass and get on with it, but you aren’t bad for having them. You are just like the rest of us.

You are a hero for fighting the fight you are fighting. You have the same resources within you as all the rest of us. Different talents yes, a different starting position, yes, but the same resources. Learn from the people who have walked where you want to walk. Remember though that these people are not above you. They are next to you. And what got them to where they are is hard work, luck and social skills. You may or may not reach the same mountain tops they did, but you will reach your own mountain tops.

So next Halloween…get the suit that suits you…not someone else’. You look much better being you. Me? Well I have a Sandra Dee Pink Ladies jacket…and funnily enough all I ever wanted to do was musicals. Who’s gonna do some dirty dancing with me???…

You are a hero…we all are…

Between my satin sheets…

That’s where I’m curled up right now. No intention of moving. Hugging my pillow is my task for the day. I feel like an elephant and his gorgeous wife are doing the tango inside my head (no, really, I’m sure this is possible – you just haven’t met this charming elephant couple yet if you don’t believe me). Someone else has found the remote control to my body and is seriously playing with the temperature button. I wish it was a man who…turned me on…but I’m afraid it’s more like a flu. I have been sick for three days now and all I want is for someone to make me my favorite raw salads (or make up new ones) and feed me raw ice cream that would soothe my throat. Maybe some nice fever clenching teas too. That would be simply brilliant.

I couldn’t phantom why I felt worse upon awakening today than when going to bed yesterday. Then I realized that because I had to remain on my feet yesterday I ate so many painkillers I was literally numb. Still exhausted, but numb.

Sometimes we use other things than painkillers to numb something. It works in the same way though – we forget it’s there and operate as if it wasn’t, but it is. So many of us deny a part of ourselves. Something that actually deserves attention. Whether it’s a side of us that needs to sit down and mourn, a side of us that needs some pampering, or a side of us that simply needs to be seen.

I’m one of those people who love attention, love to be loved and love to share life with others (…so long as I can do it in the way of a true Leo – keep my independence and call my own shots). I just hate asking for it (like duh, us felines are superior, we don’t ask for these things – they are served on a silver plate…). Give me a mic and I will entertain the crowd. Give me a stage and I’ll make a performance. Give me a pen and I will write you a story. Give me a party and I will be sorry to disturb someone by talking to them. I hate asking for attention. I hate intruding. The problem is people don’t see me. How can they see me if I never show myself? I basically numb my own reactions so as not to draw attention. I don’t see a reason to speak too much before I know people – when I do know them though, I know they want me around. Then again, even when I know they love me I feel silly asking for help…the other night I almost fainted from my fever. I still felt ashamed and stupid to awake my best friend. I felt I was intruding on her good night’s sleep.

This makes me sound retarded, it’s not like I’m always hiding in corners, but nine times out of ten when people get to know me they’re like “Wow, you’re amazing, I never would have thought you were this much fun.” My best friend thinks this is brilliant – everyone’s in for a happy surprise and I’m like this nice gift you have to unwrap before you get the juicy inside (of course if you read this blog you get quite a bit of juice…). It’s only the people who choose to be near me that get to experience me, pretty much. I, on the other hand, think it’s an issue. I’m so tired of hearing how people first perceived me as being really arrogant (and maybe, just maybe sometimes they are right…the whole silver plate thing, ahem…) and then they discover that I’m “actually nice, warm and really funny.” I must miss out on nine out of ten people because they think I’m a diva, or plain boring. It’s not clever marketing. It’s like labeling Coca Cola with Sprite. What’s more, I feel jealous of people who have a nice marketing kit – they get attention, I don’t. Then I get angry with myself for getting jealous.

Now, of course there are days when I decide to talk to everyone that moves, there are days when people think I’m bubblier than a bubble bath (cheese police on its way) and there are days when I simply don’t feel like talking to people and I’m not one of those people who always want to be the center of attention – I really do love sitting back and listening to others. I’m like one of those sponges that soak up what people are talking about. What I’m trying to say is that most of us put on a mask, a show, a guard that’s our wall. Our wall against perceived evils. Most outgoing people talk to cover up their insecurities, I’m silent and avoid showing emotions because I was so used to being told off by bullies and my step-mom whenever I opened my mouth. If I didn’t say anything, no one had any validation for putting me down – I could still believe that the real me was great and they could never mock it, because they couldn’t see it. See me. Basically, if you don’t see me you can’t hurt me, but if you can’t see me, you can’t love me either. So many men have fallen for the fact that I’m unattainable, only to realize that once they get past my guards I’m like a dog – completely faithful. If someone becomes my friend, they’re my friend for life. I don’t play Russian Roulette with friendships, or lovers and I get extremely offended when people do.

If there is a side of you, you are ignoring, maybe take some time to ask that side what it is it truly needs. You have all the answers inside of you. You just have to “talk to yourself.” Ask what part of you needs to come out and get dusted off – get a chance to be out dancing in rays of sunlight. The thing is, even the things we have put aside because we think they hurt and need to be numbed usually aren’t as bad as we would believe. Once we look them in the eye and accept them, we realize they are just thoughts hiding in our head. They are the past, not the future. Yesterday is not today. We are not whom we were. We are not caught up in the circumstance of yesterday. We are free to be whom we like. And love. And adore.

I think I’m getting fever hallucinations. I was about to say: let’s all sprinkle ourselves with love and radiate the true beauty we all keep inside of ourselves. Let’s dance in the sunlight and play with the moonlight. Let’s sap up the true beauty of life and enjoy ourselves, the creatures we are, to the full. Clearly I’m delusional. I would never say something like that. Ever.

Love…

I’m really yummy, I swear…you just have to unwrap me, or make me purr…

A love story…

Someone once asked me to write a love story and I was a bit at loss, because I didn’t really have a good one – I could only write what came out of my heart, but it wasn’t a real story from life – it was a dream, a fantasy. Today, I realized that I do have a true story. The same story that has happened time and time again in my life. It’s not about one man, it’s about many men – every single one of them I think. Come to think about it, it’s about all the people I have ever met, including my own sweet self, because it relates in one way or another. It’s the story of a lost lover. It’s the story of my past. It’s the story that no longer is, but I will write it as it once was.

The Lost Lover

I’ve known this man for quite some time now and I like him. I love him, in fact. Lately though, I have questioned my love for him. I have questioned if I am really a good friend for him. I have questioned whether he is really a good friend for me. I have no doubt that I will always love him, so why do I doubt our friendship? I doubt it because I don’t know how to relate to him. I doubt it because I don’t know if I’m in love with him, or if I just want to be friends with him. I doubt it because I know that if we have a love story, it may only last a little while. I doubt it because when people are in love they demand things from each other so easily and they get hurt if they don’t get what they want. It’s not true, but it’s so easy to mistake someone for loving you when they fulfill those wants and needs and mistaking them for not loving you when they don’t.

I doubt that I am a good friend for him, because when I think about being in a relationship with him I doubt that he is the one for me. I don’t know. How could I know? I can’t unless I try it, but how can I try it without knowing? How can I try it when the judge in me says that we may be bored with one another? That we may not like certain sides of one another? So I retract. I still love him, but I don’ think I could love a relationship with him, because I’m judging him in that relationship, so I feel bad, I feel unworthy of his love.

I doubt that he is a good friend for me, because I know he has the same doubts that I do. So I know he is judging me and how can that be good for me? I only start judging myself when I feel his judgment and then I get sad. Then I feel like I need his love to make me happy and then I get angry with him and then I want to be left alone. When I am alone I love myself, but when I see him looking at me like that I don’t love myself, because I don’t feel good enough for his love as clearly he is not giving it to me. Not in that context.

How can we know what we are to one another without having sex with one another? But how can we have sex with one another without making love to one another? If we have sex we will for sure know that we won’t fit, because none of us want sex, both of us want to make love, but how can we make love when we don’t know if we are meant for one another? How can we make love not just physically, but mentally, every time we see one another? How can we do that when we don’t know where it will lead us?

Of course at times we did have sex, but of course it was the same as the rest of our relationship – it was a clash; it was nothing, it was everything, it was two parallel Universes that never really met. It was two forces pulling together at the same time as they were pulling apart.

How can I show my love for him when he has doubts, because as long as he has doubts, my love will suffocate him? How can I allow him to love me when I have doubts, as I may not be able to be what he wants me to be?

I still love him though. I still love him as a person, even though I may never come to love him in relation to me, neither as a friend, nor as a lover. I know we may never fulfill each others’ needs, I know we may end up angry if we get selfish about it, I know we may end up disagreeing on something in life so much so we will walk separate paths and never see each other again. I also know that in my heart he is my brother, because we have something I cannot put into words in common, but that’s why I sympathize with him and why I will forever love him.

Every time I am around him I feel like I am dead. Like I don’t know what to say or do. I go empty. I don’t know how to relate to him, so I don’t relate at all. Then I feel miserable, because I am not showing him any of what I am; I am not giving him any of the wonders I have inside; I am not sharing my happiness, my passion and my love for life, or for that matter: for him. That’s not me that I am sharing with him. What I show him, what I share with him is an empty shell; a robot.

I don’t want to see him, because if I do he will be in his Universe and I will be in mine. We will be bored by each other’s company, because even though we know we are connected because we are so similar we live parallel Universes, we cannot bring our Universes together, even though they are just a millimeter apart. So we cannot connect on a physical level, even though we are so similar in our hearts and minds. We cannot connect our Universes, because we do not know how to relate to one another. Sometimes one of us connects one way and the other the other way and then it misfires. Sometimes we simply can’t decide how to connect, so we don’t connect at all. So we both walk off thinking: I love that person, I don’t want to be without that person, but I don’t know how to be with that person. I’m unhappy when I’m with them and I’m unhappy when I’m without them.

It’s like one of us is always on a pajama party, whilst the other is on a fancy ball. We know that without the pajama and the fancy clothes, we’d probably be the same, but we don’t know how to be without the pajama or the fancy clothes. We don’t know how to be when we are not something. When we just are. So we try to be lovers, we try to be friends, but we keep switching back and forth and usually one is trying one thing, whilst the other is trying the other thing and we clash. Or we get so nervous none of us tries anything, scared of which path it will lead us down, scared of making a decision. So we just sit there next to one another, petrified. We talk, but we do not connect.

We are both dancers, we both love to dance, we both love watching each other dance – we think when we watch one another that “You are one of the most amazing dancers I have ever met. I love watching you, I love the way you move through life, I love the way you twirl, the way you dance with others, the choreographies you create for yourself, I even love the songs that you love dancing to. I love you.” Then we dance together and one of us is dancing to Mozart, and the other to Beethoven and we can’t understand why we can’t dance together when we love each other’s moves.

If we just for one minute, maybe a bit more, removed our pajama, or our fancy dress, and we stopped trying to dance with one another to the tunes we have in our heads, if we just looked each other in the eye and loved one another, maybe we would start dancing to our very own tune. Maybe we would hear the music we have never noticed before, because we haven’t been listening – we have been way too busy dancing to the tunes that we thought would be suitable.

If you are dancing with someone, how can you not trust them? They are moving with you – they are dancing with you because they love to dance with you. How can you be bored by them? If they are twirling you around on the dance floor, or if you twirl them around, or if you create chorepgraphies together, how can you be bored? It may take time to nail a certain routine, to get a certain dance to just flow 100% because you need to practice, but whilst practicing you are still dancing, you are still moving to the rhythm of your hearts. Every dancer knows that it’s not about dancing the perfect choreography, it’s about loving each step.

Your partner may get tired at times, you may get tired at times, but you love them, so you let them rest and they love you, so they let you rest. At other times, one of you gets a step quicker than the other and one of you will have to wait and support. You may not agree on a specific step, or a certain tune, you may want to perform in different places at the same time…well that’s dancing for you – you have to learn to dance together, but every time you disagree, why not sit down and go back to that first magic day when you looked each other in the eye and you heard the same tune? Why not go back to love? You don’t have to be something, remember? You can just be. You don’t have to do the tango, or the samba. You can just be. In that being there are no rules, there are no tomorrows. There is just two people who love.

Every dancer has fallen once, or tripped over, or injured something. It happens. Sometimes we take others with us in the fall. We didn’t hurt someone because we didn’t love them, we hurt them because we collided – we started dancing to different tunes again. We forgot to just be. We started to play a game where we needed to become something, where the people around us needed to become something to us and we didn’t listen, so we fell over – we fell into others and we hurt ourselves and others.

I have met many dancers who danced to the same tune as me and it was easier to connect with them, to dance with them. We were at the same page at the same time, but I didn’t necessarily like their style of dancing, or how they danced with me. With him I don’t know if I can dance with him, or if we will ever find our tune, all I know is that I love him when he dances, because in his moves I see myself. I see someone I love. I see someone I respect. I see someone for whom I wish all the best.

I may never be able to dance with him, or with other people, but I always have the choice to sit next to someone in silence and just love them, just as I have the opportunity to, no matter how crazy the tune I have been forced to, or chosen to, dance to is, step aside, sit down and love myself. I am gorgeous and I am a person whose moves I love, whom I respect and whom I wish all the best for, no matter what friggin tune is playing in my life. I love me. And that is a very beautiful love story, if I may say so myself.

I think when we try to categorize our love, when we force each other to dance to certain tunes, that’s when we lose the love we felt, because how can someone dance to a tune just because we want them to? How can we dance to a tune just because they want us to? We can’t. Love isn’t a certain tune, or a certain way of being together. Love just is. From that love you can create a tune. Your own tune. Whatever that tune may be, because if you want to be together in some way, shape or form, you have to have a tune, but even if you don’t find a common tune to dance to – even if you bump into each other because there is no rhythm, so long as you are coming from that place of love, you can walk away from each other still loving one another.

Hey, you, yeah, you – I love you. I may never be able to dance with you, but I love you. And I wish for you, that you learn, what I learnt today. Because to love without ifs, buts and maybes, to just love, that is, for me, what I want to be doing with my life – it’s what makes me feel like I’m flying.

I’m too sexy for my hat…

OK peeps, it’s official – I really am too sexy for my hat. I’m being serious here people – a hat has nothing against me…I have more sex appeal in my pinkie than a hat has in total.

Do not mistake understanding for realization, and do not mistake realization for liberation. – Tibetan Saying. (I guess that’s why I have the same epiphany twice a week…every week…)

Lately I have blogged a lot about judging oneself and freeing oneself from that, at the same time I have felt like there was something I was missing. Then I woke up today to London’s gray skies, looked out and had an epiphany – point of view. No matter how much I say I shouldn’t be judging myself, I still look upon myself in the same light as I always have – analyzing the problems and skipping the rest. I look upon my life as if it’s a problem I need to solve. I watch the clouds, but I rarely bathe in the sunshine.

In our family we always looked at what needed correction, but rarely praised what was good – you were more likely to hear that you had a bad haircut than getting praise for a good one. If something was good nothing was said as nothing needed to be said, if something was bad it was pointed out so you could change it. Of course, we still gave compliments, but it usually came with an equal dose of contemplation attached (this is great – but…).

I get compliments every day. I learn every day. People are usually extremely nice to me. I always find the “but” though, so I shrug my shoulders at the compliments, thinking the people giving them are somewhat deluded. I know the real story – the real story is that if all the guys that wanna date me really knew me, they’d see my issues too. If all the people who give me A:s every term would work with me, they’d see the real issues too. You know what the real issue is? That I see issues.

Showing complete love has just been cringy and for me almost impossible, because how can you totally embrace yourself and others when you know you and they are not perfect? You know you have more to learn, you know there are problems. And then of course, the fear – what if I love myself and then they point out a problem, then what? Isn’t it better to be guarded by already knowing all your shortcomings? And if you love them completely, then what if they don’t love you? What if you don’t have a list in your head ready for why they have issues, so that you can feel you aren’t really the problem, they are? Balderdash, of course. Love is. That’s it. Love just is. Everything else can be tossed about, but the love still just is.

I’m a pretty darn good person, if I may say so myself. I have a few shortcomings, one is clearly bad self-confidence and another is being a tad over ambitious and working myself to the ground ever so often, as I don’t walk up a ladder, I try to fly to the top and often crash somewhere along the way. That’s why I feel I haven’t gotten to where I want to be. Because of this I feel a need to constantly apologize for myself – I’m sorry if I did anything wrong at all, bored you, hurt you….thus becoming a slave to other people as I want to please them. I appear confident because I know how to deal with people and situations when working, but privately, the side I don’t show people, the side that isn’t strolling by in high heels and short skirts, that side is a bit wonky. That side still thinks she’s unworthy just about anything. That side still thinks everyone is out to trick her and that no one truly loves her.

I know a lot about personal development and psychology, so I have helped others, but to help yourself you have to take it from realization, to understanding, to liberation, just like you would with the person that asked you for help.

The fact is that I’m in a pretty good place – I’m young, smart, pretty, healthy, fit, enrolled at a top Uni, have a gazillion friends and a ton of guys giving me puppy eyes every day. I’m not so sure where the issue in that lies apart from the fact that I don’t own a film studio and an entrepreneurial empire, or am married.

I don’t know about you, but I think I’ve had a bit of a twisted image of myself. I have totally understood anyone who didn’t like me, who thought I was bad, blah, blah. I accepted that, but I didn’t accept when people praised me. Instead I said “yes, but…” No fucking but. I rock.

The thing is: you become successful the day you see yourself as successful. The day you count every success you had that day, instead of counting all the shortcomings of your life. Learn, move upward, but keep counting the successes, because you are successful every single day of your life. How could you not be? You managed to wake up, didn’t you? Congratulations, you are a powerful being – you are alive. You are the miracle you think Pinocchio is – you are something that has the power of life within you. You can move, you can taste, communicate, feel, see… Most of all: you can love.

If you weren’t here alive right now, you couldn’t tell your friends and family how much you care about them – you couldn’t hug them, talk to them, praise them, help them, send love to them… You are powerful and the force of love and the force of life are your two most powerful tools. Every time you give a person one of those two gifts, I believe you are living the true life of gods. Your advice might be crooked and your ideas might be tits up, but your love, your love and your life force are always great.

I watched the movie Just Like Heaven a while ago and I couldn’t understand why it stuck in my mind, I mean the film was pretty mindless, right, but it had a point. The point was: workaholic discovers, whilst almost dead that in life she never experienced the meaning of life: love. What I regret in my life is not the things I didn’t do, because I did them all, but the way I saw myself when I did them. I have spent a lifetime putting myself down. I have spent a lifetime depriving myself of the biggest gift of all: love. Loving myself through it all. Seeing people with love. Accepting love.

How about we all use some sunshine and light ourselves up in the light that sees all that is good. What then do you find? Do you see how gorgeous you are? Do you see what you have accomplished so far? Do you see all the smiles that have ever been thrown in your direction? All the hugs you have ever had? Do you see all the people you have ever helped? All the people you got to laugh? All the people who think that the world is a better place because of you? Do you see you for who you truly are and all the strength, power and potential you have within you? Aren’t you sparkling by now from all the light you found within you, by just shining some light from without? I don’t know about you, but I feel like a bright shining star, that is way too sexy for her hat. Way too sexy…and I’m tired of being a good girl…what’s the saying? Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go to London…play time!

Dirty dancing…

We live in uncertain times people and with that I don’t mean the economy. Met anyone lately that couldn’t make up their mind? To me it seems like a lot of people are dancing a great dance of confusion. First they take a step to should, then to want, do a little pirouette on have to, do a pas de chat over must and then they can’t decide whether to do a chassé right or left, because they get stuck on a spot on the dance floor marked: fear. Of course there are also other dancers on the dance floor and they have to avoid bumping into them and choose whom to dance with when.

When growing up there wasn’t just one person around to influence us: there was your family, friends, teachers…not to mention books, TV, society… Being good little children we often wanted to please all the people we loved, or we wanted to please all the people we were scared of. We got so many different points of reference, often contradictory, that it was hard knowing what was right or wrong, especially if you could see the truth in all of them. At times it wasn’t just that you were told other peoples’ opinion and wanted to live up to their expectations, it was also that you saw the people closest to you and either dreaded or hoped to become like them one day. Whether you didn’t want to, or you really wanted to, part of you probably did expect to end up being a similar person to those closest around you, in one way or another – you might not have expected to become just like them, but you dreaded their worst sides influencing you and prayed that their best sides would. Whenever you then caught yourself thinking you were going down their path, or found yourself doing/saying something they would have said, you either jumped for joy or panicked.

Of course, once we see what we are doing in our lives we can choose to change it, but it’s always easier to go with the flow than against it, which is why we so often end up becoming the people we were taught to be by our surroundings. What’s more though, is that because our surroundings consisted of so many different influences, we have a hundred (or more) little men inside of us telling us what to do and their opinions are often contradictory. Sometimes the battle is so fierce that you just look to someone else to tell you what to do, so that you don’t have to take responsibility for sorting out your inner battle. (Or you get even more petrified if three different people have three different opinions.)

Because of all these influences going on, we are often scared to commit to things. “I would like this, but I’d also like that.” Most of us are happy to commit to a few things in life though, such as showering, eating, etc. Why? Because we know that the pay off if we get our lazy ass off the chair and jump in the shower, or make ourselves a meal, is worth the hassle.

Commitment to something grander, like running a business we believe will improve things in this world, writing a book or making a movie we believe will give others joy, volunteering at the local shelter, creating a great relationship with our friends or building a life with our partner, doing a great job at work, raising children, teaching/coaching others, etc. give us meaning; purpose. It makes us feel like our lives are important. However, when we are stuck in the dirty dance of indecision we are usually moving nowhere, we feel we are wasting our time and our life. Besides, as I said the other day: you get joy when your full attention is on what you are doing, so when you are stuck in indecision you feel tormented.

Amongst all the voices in our head there is usually one little voice that says: “You can’t do that. Who do you think you are for wanting something like that? Why would you deserve that? You aren’t good enough to do that. You can’t do that because your family wasn’t like that, so you can’t be either.” Or something along those lines. Well, when I was in my second year at drama school I had a choice – I hadn’t managed to figure out directing until the end of that year – the beginning had been terrible. So I could choose if I wanted to re-do that year and have more time to practice, or if I just wanted to go straight into my third year. I talked to the teachers about it and they told me that really, it was up to me 100%. At first I couldn’t make up my mind – maybe it was better to take it easy and have more time, maybe I would fail if I went straight into my third year, then again, I wanted to graduate sooner rather than later. Then it hit me: who was I to think that I could not do it, if it was what I wanted to do? How could I not trust myself? I had done some good pieces towards the end, so why would I not be able to continue to learn and grow? I stomped home in a fury and told my boyfriend all about it and stated that I was going to do my third year and that was that. I was going to have to do twice as many directing pieces as most, as I was behind, but I was gonna do it.

My third year was probably my best year at drama school – I did more pieces, I enjoyed my work, I was 100% present to what I was doing because there was no time not to, I was completely sleep deprived and I was in school 7 days a week, usually not going to bed till 2am on weekdays (and school started at 8:30am) and I loved it. I became a great director. I can of course become better with practice, but that year, I became good at what I was doing. Why? I was committed and I believed in myself. That’s not to say I didn’t screw up along the way, but I kept moving, I kept learning.

What if we listened to our hearts when we make decisions, and not all those voices in our head? What if we really learnt to listen? And what if the fear we had of committing was washed away, because we trusted our heart? We trusted that our heart would show us the right path and the effort put into walking it would be worth it, as it would be so much fun and bring so much fulfillment. What then would we be 100% committed to doing with our lives? What fears would be abolished if we moved our asses instead of sat around all day thinking about it? How much more joy could we have if we were completely immersed in what we do instead of having one foot (or maybe toe, as there are a lot of different ones) in every camp? What if we didn’t let hurdles shake us up and make us feel small, but rather indulged in them as a learning process? What then? What then would you do right now?

This came to my mind yesterday as I was re-reading The Mastery Of Love. A little voice inside my head kept telling me that really, I can’t have a relationship with someone, because I don’t know enough about being a great girlfriend (I mean we all have nasty tendencies somewhere, right? And what if mine would come out?), I can’t decide whom to choose (because one voice is telling me one thing, another another thing), I may lack the ability to choose the right guy (and end up spending my life drooling over others, or living with someone who isn’t with me for the right reasons and I’ll be too emotionally tangled up to break up) and I will just not be enough for anyone – I’ll just be a burden on their life because they want to shag the world and I’ll be in their way. It wasn’t like I was sitting thinking this, it was just an uneasy feeling in my body, but I know those are the thoughts underneath that uneasy feeling (I know those thoughts are insane, it’s just they were supplied to me from voices of my past and they got stuck). Then suddenly it hit me that I don’t feel like I need a boyfriend anymore. For the first time in my life I don’t need a little dose of love. I don’t need a pick me up from the drugstore of hormones, usually delivered in the form of hugs, kisses, sex and soothing words from men. What hit me after that is that I don’t so much care for guys’ opinion of me anymore either. If someone doesn’t like me, well that’s his thing, whether that is because we don’t match, or because he has “stuff” around relationships, or because he values sleeping around more than building love with one person (it’s like “Oh, he has a great capacity for loving, doesn’t he? I’d really want a piece of that. Not.” Of course, he may need to sleep around to save his ego, that’s another cup of tea, but just about as titillating as the other option.). Whereas in the past I’d be like: “OMG, he likes them more than me. I’m not perfect enough.” The third thing that hit me is that I can have a relationship, I just have to make up my mind that I can. For years I’ve thought I can’t – I’ve kept rejecting myself with the above thoughts. So there I stood, in Walthamstow of all places, having an epiphany that love is like my third year in college – just fucking do it. And suddenly I felt very, very free. I had no fear anymore – I didn’t need a guy so I wasn’t scared of losing one, I knew I could have a relationship so I wasn’t scared I’d make the wrong decisions, or not find someone.

If you are doing a dirty dance, not knowing which foot to step on because of fear and other people’s’ opinions, or if someone is doing a dirty dance with you, making you question your heart’s decision – get out of that choreography, stop dancing to that tune and start dancing with your heart. Feel the true music of your inner being and allow yourself to get swept away with it – make every step count and dance as if your life depended upon it, because truly, it does.

“We try to please Mom and Dad, we try to please our teacher, our minister, our religion, and God. But the truth is that from their point of view we are never going to be perfect. That image of perfection tells us how we should be in order to acknowledge that we are good, in order to accept ourselves. But guess what? This is the biggest lie we believe about ourselves, because we are never going to be perfect. And there is no way that we can forgive ourselves for not being perfect.

That image of perfection changes the way we dream (live). We learn to deny ourselves and reject ourselves. We are never good enough, or right enough, or clean enough, or healthy enough according to all those beliefs we have. There is always something The (inner) Judge can never accept or forgive. That is why we reject our own humanity; that is why we never deserve to be happy.; that is why we are searching for someone who abuses us, someone who will punish us. We have a very high level of self-abuse because of that image of perfection.” – Don Miguel Ruiz, The Mastery Of Love

Screw me…no screw you…I mean screw it, let’s fucking do it!!!

For fuck’s sake. That sums up my feelings right now. If you weren’t already aware it’s a most useful term. For fuck’s sake. I use it frequently, but today I feel like using it with extra emphasis.

Do you know what the problem with success is? Suddenly you are playing on your dream level and you have a ton more to lose than when you were playing small, only of course the result of losing whether you are playing small, or big will take you to the same place: de nada, nothing, zero – it just the fall is longer if you play higher.

Starting a company scares me for that reason: I may fail. I will see if my wings are imaginary, or if they work.

When it comes to relationships it’s yet again the same: you will find out whether the love had wings, or if it was imaginary.

Of course you can’t just expect that because you discover you have wings you will know how to fly like an eagle day one – it takes quite a lot of practice to become a pro and I suggest the people you bring with you on your journey know about this, or else they will give up a lot earlier than the eagle stage.

I guess what we are so scared of is to crash, even if we know that the pain will be temporary. I think the main fear really is what we will end up thinking about ourselves if we crash.

I have this fear of living with a longing in my heart for the rest of my life, an unsatisfied need within me. Most of our longings are based on the wrong purposes (like we want to be admired and feel that we need to succeed for the sake of our image rather than for the sake of our heart’s wish to do what we love, etc.), but the true ones will be there no matter what. For me, when I don’t create and help others in the process, I feel dead. There are a lot of things that I can do and can do well, but it’s killing me inside. That’s why I hate so many jobs and that’s why I feel petrified thinking that if I don’t succeed with something of my own very soon, I will have to enroll in a job that will take up most of my time, meaning I will be stuck in it for a very long time.

Now, it’s not that I haven’t tried to reach my dreams, I have probably tried harder than most. I have, potentially, tried in all the wrong ways however. I complicate things to the point of driving myself nuts. And that’s what I’m scared of – of not finding a solution to my own brain.

I’m scared today. I feel like one of those little rag dolls that would like to go and hide under her blanket. More than anything I have been missing my granddad and as he’s hopefully in Heaven, I can’t get him to come hug me. I’m scared of being a broke vagabond/student forever. I’m scared of never living my dreams. More than anything I think I’m scared of having a relationship with someone, because I get totally stressed out contemplating thinking about what another person is thinking about me all day long, because then I can’t relax and then I’m unhappy, so then I prefer to be confident and single. I also prefer not to gain someone I love, only to lose them. Of course that’s not true though – I do want to fall in love with someone, who’s in love with me and create an amazing relationship with them, it’s just I have some sort of nagging thought that no one will ever love me and even if they do they might just fuck off the next day. All this even if I know I’m happy on my own, minus the longing for a sexy, sassy and utterly cool relationship, and that if you lose one person, there is always another one coming. Basically, I think I have spent all day today worrying. Not so that I could notice it myself, but on a subconscious level.

I know that everything is about the inside – you can live on a grain of rice a day and be happy, so sorting that out comes first, always. If I do I know I will be the person I want to be, the person I love being, whether I am the entrepreneur of the year and in a smashing relationship, or if I’m stone broke and single. Nevertheless, you also have to execute, or else you are just happy living in a secure little world where you feel fine, but you never grow. I’m quite happy at the moment. That’s what scares me. Moving onward and upward can destroy the equilibrium.

I realized a long time ago that the only way to cure yourself from your own patterns is to stick your head out from underneath the blanket and jump off the cliff. You gotta just fucking do it. And when you see yourself thinking the thoughts you always thought, you just shrug your shoulders and laugh at yourself. You don’t get angry, you don’t punish yourself, you don’t associate yourself with that, you just laugh, because it’s not the true you, is it? The true you knows that there is a very different reality where everything is simple and straightforward. The true you just cares about living. The true you just takes action and sees what happens. The true you lives and learns without punishing her/himself. The true you knows that in business and in life, you screw it and just fucking do it and sometímes that person screws you, you screw that person and together you screw it and just fucking do it! (Thanks Branson!)

It’s all really rather simple, isn’t it???!!!…I just need to get out from underneath this blanket that I have somehow gotten all tangled up in…hang on, wait, yes, I think I can feel the breeze around my face again….can’t you?!!