Being a woman: sex, love and rock’n’roll…

I was raised by a man so I’m quite apt on the rock’n’roll and I have a sense of humor and imagination dirtier than your mop, but the love bit sometimes gets confusing, because, well I was raised by a man. Though my grandmas were there to guide me and I was particularly close to my dad’s mother, dad always had the final say. I always ranked his opinion the highest. Gran was easy to please, dad wasn’t.

Dad taught me many things. He taught me to fight. He taught me to better myself. He taught my no goal is too big if you want it bad enough. He taught me I can do anything I put my mind to. He has an epic sense of humor. He’s incredibly smart. He always took care of the household. He is, in his own words, a master chef. He was very strict in some ways, but trusted me so much I was always allowed to go anywhere and do anything. He also made me think nothing I did was ever good enough, second place was no place and love was dependent on achievements. That was not his goal, but as a kid, that was what I read into it. As a businessman he always tries to find the weak link. He’s the hardest critic in my life, save myself. He also sometimes didn’t know how to deal with my emotions and would get angry about something, which made me feel emotions weren’t welcome.

My dad’s dad was the most stoic of all men and my sister used to joke that in our family we are emotionally retarded. Gran once broke her arm, what do you think grandpa did? Yell at her for falling. He was worried and it was his way of expressing it. He loved her very much, but I know she sometimes didn’t feel it, because he didn’t communicate it in a way she understood. The one thing that she kept saying over and over again that meant the world to her was the one time he took her to a store in Paris to buy her a Chanel dress. To her that was a proof of his love – you could see it in her eyes as she spoke. She was often sad he didn’t help around the house though, or didn’t listen to her. Once I got him to tell the story of his dad, a metal worker and artist, who had an accident and went a bit mad and I think grandpa took it hard, or was ashamed over what happened. Gran said he’d never shared that with her.

When grandpa had heart surgery he changed. He became a softie. By that time gran started becoming senile and got hostile, sinking into depression. At that stage she told me she should have married another guy she dated; that it was him she really wanted. My other gran’s cousin.

My other grandparents were the complete opposite. They would do everything together – from cleaning the house, to cooking the food. Grandpa was very masculine and leading them, he was the one giving directions, driving the car, taking charge of things, but we all knew gran would have her way. And they’d argue about things at times, granddad had a temper and gran could be unreasonable, but you always knew there was so much love, you’d chuckle at their arguments. You felt safe. You weren’t scared by the conflict, because it wasn’t one that wounded. They would never hurt one another. Ever. Grandpa was the positive one in the family. I always felt when mom died and everyone else went bananas, he was the rock. He was huggable and friendly and he always put the family first. I’ve said it before, but whenever I drive into Hangberg and the kids in the township start screaming my name, I think of grandpa. When his car arrived, I knew I was safe. To me that old, immaculately kept Volvo was the sign of security. Of love.

Our grandparents looked after us so much they were like our parents in some ways – dad’s mom used to say “Isn’t it nice? You are more like my children. Do you know how I know? I can argue you with you! We can yell at each other.” Gran had a wicked sense of humor and I get tears in my eyes just writing about her. When I lost her I felt like I lost the most loving, feminine aspect of my life. She taught me a lot about love – when I was a kid she took me to the bathroom, when she was lost in dementia, I took her to the bathroom. Love isn’t pretty, it’s wonderful.

I went to the school of hard knocks as a kid: I lost my mom, I was transferred in school and ended up bullied, I had an emotionally abusive step-mom and the first guys I fell for didn’t exactly like me. One stood up in front of a whole class and said no one could ever fall in love with someone like me, and I actually think he quite liked me. He was popular, I was a geek. Tough luck.

As a kid I wanted to turn my life around – stop being insecure and become perfect so that everyone would suddenly love me instead of reject me. I’m quite the determined person, so I did change. It took about 15 years to really start to experience loving myself, as opposed to look for outside signs of approval. I was emotionally closed due to fear and I slowly opened myself up, one painful or blissful realization at a time. It took guts. Though guts is not always what you need: you need to surrender.

Most things in life come to you when you surrender to them. When you surrender to discomfort, suddenly what was bugging you eases away. When you fight it, you hold onto it and battle it. You have to sit with your feelings until they dissipate. Not analyze like crazy, not fight, just surrender. The epiphany is on the other side of surrender. So is the solution.

The core of femininity is love. Surrendering to love. It’s directionless surrender, whilst masculinity is direction. The man penetrates, the woman surrenders.

This weekend I decided I want to experience what it is like being a woman. Totally. I also wanted to understand why the male and female balance goes out the window at times and there are misunderstandings and hurt between men and women who are genuinely attracted to one another. It’s been confusing me for years, and whilst Deida’s The Way of the Superior Man taught me to understand it better, it’s a book for men, not women. So I can try to tell a man what to do, but that is usually like walking into a brick wall as men hate that (there’s a reason doting women for centuries have applied the method of “planting seeds” when wanting a guy to do something, as they know if they ask him straight out he will be offended, or simply not do it. He needs to feel the direction came from him) or I can learn what to do to get the desired response. I can learn to be a woman.

First of all, let’s talk about the problem, both from a woman’s and man’s point of view.

What I have found in life is that some men are scared to penetrate; waiting for the woman’s submission first. They are asking permission; asking advice about direction. To a woman it seems obvious what to do – she’s right there and he should be able to feel what she needs, as women feel into people. And if he feels if she’s willing or not, then he should know when to so to speak take direction and penetrate.

If he asks her permission she thinks he isn’t seeing her; because she thinks her emotions are obvious. If he doesn’t take charge of the direction she feels she has to be the man and do it for him, so she loses her attraction. She goes cold. Often, as a result, she starts challenging the man in hope he will stand up for himself and take over, or, alternatively, she retracts away from him, hoping he will go after.

This, for most women is extremely confusing. Suddenly the guy she has the hots for is leaving her cold and she feels an urge to withdraw or bitch with him. My best friend calls it a primal instinct: “The guy gets gooey, I get bitchy.” But no one wants to be a bitch, or feel cold around the guy she’s wanting to be with. Finally when I read Deida’s The Way of the Superior Man I understood that it’s a woman’s need for a man to take direction, to lead, to be the masculine force, that a woman suddenly lacks and is reacting to. Now her reaction is a wish for him to either stand up and challenge her (if she’s bitchy) or go after her (if she’s cold). She’s unconsciously trying to trigger his masculinity. Though of course this normally backfires as the man has no clue why she is upset about and thinks she’s being unreasonable, an emotional freak, cold hearted, playing hard to get, etc. She’s not. She’s dying to feel passion for him – badly. And in a very animalistic way she’s trying to make it happen, but just like anger being an animalistic force, it doesn’t always serve the purpose.

Of course, there’s also the flip side of the coin – a woman starts taking direction from get-go, or turns needy. This is when the man goes cold and does whatever he does to provoke the woman to surrender.

Similarly, there is the age old problem for couples around birthdays. Women assume a man knows what she wants and if he doesn’t he hasn’t paid attention. A man thinks the reasonable thing to do is to show up on her birthday and ask her what she wants. I spoke to a friend about this only the other week and she was telling me how she hid in the bathroom last year, taking a moment to recollect herself after this had just happened. Her finance was like “But it’s best to ask you!” I was so intrigued by this concept for years, that I’ve started a business around it.

Women are love and surrender. Men are direction. Women are emotional and feel into things; all they want is to please their man, so they will look for clues. Men are rational. They ask for clues. Women feel unloved when a man shows up on her birthday not knowing her well enough to know what she wants, nor taking direction. She feels she has to do his job; that he doesn’t care enough to do it.

When I read The Way of the Superior Man I did start to understand these concepts better, but it’s a guide for men. It tells men what to do. So what do I do if I suddenly start feeling cold around a guy I want to feel passionately about and have felt passionately about, but can’t tell him what to do (using all the male force I was raised with and longing for a man to conquer)? How do I switch things around? How do I help him being a man and me being a woman?

I surrender. Eureka.

No, as a woman it doesn’t come natural to surrender to a guy who isn’t doing what we unconsciously expect him to do. Our instinct is to do the opposite. Just as a man’s instinct when a woman turns into a bitch isn’t to playfully open her up to love. Lovingly wrestle with her, tell her he loves her in such a way she surrenders to him and all of his masculine force.

So I made a decision that the next time I feel like either turning into a bitch, or turning cold and run for the hills, or for that matter feeling hurt due to something a guy did, I’m going to open up instead. I’m going to step into my femininity and be the most alluring self I can be. I will tease. I will laugh. I will stand open in love. This should, in turn, make the guy step into his masculine core, but whether he does or doesn’t, I remain true to me. And this is coming from a very stoic woman, so hey. It ain’t easy for me, but I know it’s the best way forward. I can’t blame my stoic family, or men in the past for having broken my heart. I want to heal and I know the way to do it, so I should. Without the criticism I would once have given myself for not being perfect in the first place. I’m human, I have my scars.

And maybe, just maybe, I should stop thinking men are ridiculous if they aren’t as demanding as my dad. That they are actually sincere, not just flaky just because they don’t have sky high demands on me. Though I do like a guy who makes me work for him in a playful way. I don’t mean work for his love and emotions, I mean it in a much more playful manner. The teasing kind…

My dad’s parents misunderstood each other, because they had different ways of showing love; of showing affection. When I read The Five Love Languages years ago I suddenly realized why so many relationships go wrong – we don’t know how to love the other person in a way which they understand. It’s not a lack of love, but a lack of communication. With my ex I had that problem, just like there was a lack of polarity. This was a long time ago and I still remember how confusing it was – why didn’t a relationship between two lovers just work out? Why did some things feel wrong, others right? Dating different guys was another wake-up call. Why do women fall for players? Why do you suddenly lose attraction for someone you have the hots for? Why do you turn into that bitch you don’t want to be? Why do women long for Mister Grey, when most women probably don’t want to be tortured in the bedroom and E. L. James’ writing is horrid? I’ve asked myself questions for years. I wanted to become a woman, a mother and a wife. I wanted to learn. And maybe this weekend I got a little bit closer to the answer. I don’t know, of course. I need to try out the theory. And call my best friend tomorrow to have her opinion. I think we should conduct a field study… I’m quite looking forward to this. “Darling, may I tease you with my female essence of love and surrender? May I, uhm, do, “things” to you? Tease you? Mhm.”


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Teasing enough for a man to show his masculine force?

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Filed under Dating, femininity, Love, Masculinity, relationships, Sensuality, woomanhood, yin and yang

The hottest Valentine’s day in years…

It’s getting hot in here, let me tell you. Unbearably hot. We’re having a heatwave. And I presume quite a few women are dashing off to watch a certain Mister Grey. Personally I did a boudoir shoot with the ladies from the Greek Goddess Dance classes I do. I did a naked shoot with a friend who’s a photographer a few years ago, taking shots of each other. That was an incredible experience. You feel so vulnerable in a good way when you explore what it is to be totally naked in front of a camera. When the wrong shots ended up on Facebook, it was a different kind of vulnerable… We did talk about doing an exhibition one day though.

I think naked should be celebrated. It can be vulnerable in ways, but it’s all about finding yourself in that vulnerability. It’s liberating. With men I find it a lot harder to be vulnerable. And I’m thinking it’s time to find liberation in that too.

I was browsing through Deida’s The Way of the Superior Man yesterday which is one of three books I’ve come across about how men and women relate in dating and relationships that really struck a chord with me. The other two are Neil Strauss’ The Game and John Grey’s The Five Love Languages.

When I read Deida the first time I was like “This feels like the first guy who’s ever understood me.” I still feel that way. And as I know I have some…trust issues (when you’ve thrown yourself in the wrong arms a few times too many and been criticized for having emotions, you sort of do. My childhood wasn’t easy and let’s just say the first guys I fell for didn’t exactly fall for me)…I thought maybe it’s time to take one of his courses. I know I’m scared of intimacy and I want to understand myself better and learn to be more vulnerable. Even though Africa opened me up, Africa isn’t a man. I don’t have to trust Africa. In Africa I have to use teasers and pepper spray and protect vulnerable children. While it opened me up to love, I don’t have to surrender to it, though I did learn to accept it a lot more.

There are things you do as a woman that you talk to other women about, but don’t necessarily understand and there was one thing in particular that bothered me with my own and other women’s behavior that I just couldn’t understand: how you test a guy. You prod him. If he let’s you get away with the prodding, you sulk. If he tells you to shut up and get on with it, you get happy. And I could not for the life of me understand this till I read Deida.

Basically what Deida says is any weakness you feel in a man, you prod. You want to see if you can get him to stand up for himself. If he does, you will be his most adoring support. If he doesn’t, you will sulk – you lose respect. Likewise, you want to know that he will shut you up (in a loving and steadfast manner) if you are out of line. When your emotions are running havoc and you’re being an idiot about something. Which, as a woman, will happen. Believe me. Thirdly, you want to see if he really wants you, or if he’s just having a crush on you. Most women push men away instinctively. A man who wants you is firm about his wants and find a way to love you open. And this is not conscious decisions – you just instinctively react to things. Of course, you have to learn to control yourself, but that doesn’t stop the urge, nor the sulk.

This ties into wanting a man to be a rock. Not just rock hard muscles and a rock hard lower department, but a rock. A real rock. When you get all emotional, and you will because you are a woman – at least once a month you will think the entire world hates you, life sucks and you’re going to cry for life – you want to know that your man won’t be thrown by it. That he will be the rock that calms you. Not analyzes you, but calms you. Loves you open. Brings you back into your core.

The problem is a woman sometimes says things she doesn’t mean in the long run, she just says what she’s feeling right now. And men take it literally. Like “I don’t want you to adore me.” Because that’s how she feels. But she wants to be adored, she just wants him to prove she can’t shake him and he’s trustworthy first. If he tells her to shut up, she might very well adore him the next minute. (No, it’s not easy being a woman, trust me on this. Or don’t. I might change my mind in a minute.)

Another example: a man is wearing a really ugly shirt. Some men do. If you tell him that and he picks you up, kisses you, laughs and says he knows you love him anyway, you will melt. He just showed that he is totally secure in himself and he will only do something if it pleases him as much as it does you. If he goes and changes the shirt, you won’t melt. After he tells you that you still love him he can change the shirt. Or he could say that he will wear the sexy shirt if you put on that red dress he loves, because you’re just so sexy in it. Or maybe a few days later suggest a shopping spree where you can give him advice if he knows he is not great when it comes to style, but he still makes his own choices. If you ever make him buy something he genuinely doesn’t like, then it’s a problem. He just gave away his power to you. How are you going to trust him? You’re the emotional nutcase, he needs to remain firm, that’s the polarity that makes you want to date him.

Of course this is an example though. A shirt might not ever trigger this reaction in a woman, if her man is rock solid in other ways. But it reflects back on everything in a relationship – you can decide together, but you can never give up your wisdom or desire, just to please someone else. This is why women like bad boys, but they don’t want to be treated badly, they just want a man who stays solid in his ways no matter what emotional thing she’s going through. Who can get her out of her emotional state by playing with her, loving her, teasing her or simply telling her to shut up when she gets outrageous.

I also think bad boys win because they don’t care. So a woman says no. He says yes. He breaks through her protective walls. He proves he’s willing to go get her at all costs and won’t put up with her emotional bullshit. Also, he’s not nervous – he’s steadfast. He can deal with her moods. I remember once going up and down an elevator with a guy, debating whether to have sex or not. The guy just wouldn’t give up. So eventually on round number three or something, I did. Afterwards I was appalled. I was close to tears. The next morning I was all his. So if you think a woman knows her mind, think again.

Now, I wasn’t emotionally or intellectually connected to this guy, but I totally gave into him. He could handle me like very few men have, even though we only had a very, very brief fling for a couple of days. He put me back in my body. He made me play. He made me laugh. All my intellectual bullshit and what ifs went out the door. He made me relax.

Of course, you can’t just convince any woman to have sex with you. There needs to be interest first and we were already, you know, almost having sex on a massage table by the pool, but there were people in the bushes… One day I will make a comedy about this. The thing with that guy was also he knew he got women. He could have anyone. So he didn’t need my acceptance of him. He was just going to win it because he wanted to. Pick-up artists have figured this out, which is described in The Game – how to approach her and win her over. The problem with that is that it doesn’t always come from the place of love Deida is talking about. Yeah, they figured out the behavior but the psychology behind it, though explained, isn’t always used for the best reasons. If you want a woman to really surrender to you, to vulnerable with you, you have to love her or you will crush her instead.

Women often accidentally think they are in love with players, even though the emotional and intellectual connection is missing. They feel, in some ways, more understood by these guys than by the ones who buy them roses. They want a guy to decode her and bring out her feminine essence. And as a woman knowing that players rather than the guys you are truly in love with, manage this is sad, confusing and down right infuriating at times. You wanna be with the guy you feel a real connection with, but that means you feel even more vulnerable, which means you test them even more. He has to see through your skittishness and still get on with it.

One of my best friend’s exes once said, before dating her: “I know you won’t do this because of circumstance, but I could help you open up. Playfully wrestle with you in the pool, make you laugh, make you succumb, then have sex with you.” I found it astonishing he could just look at me and figure that out. Unfortunately I was in love with and dating his best friend. He also told me that unless I sorted myself out I would continue to fall in love with emotionally closed men. That was a long time ago, but parts of me still remain. And Deida talks a lot about playfully wrestling with women, so hey.

Likewise, women need to learn to understand men. It’s a complete give and take thing. If you stop sharing your feminine essence with your man – if you stop being your soft feminine self, teasing him, arousing him and giving your love to him and instead turn into a demanding bitch trying to control him and make him less masculine, you won’t have a happy man. And there are more things to it as well – how you talk about things with a man so he actually understands, etc. There’s a lot to learn. Relationships are an art.

I don’t want to use what Deida says as an excuse – I know I have to learn to be vulnerable with a man. And I know I kick and scream when men get close to me. I just want them to playfully wrestle me, put me in place and love me. But I guess I have to somehow encourage that and not run for the hills. I’m not very good at it. I have every reservation under the sun about a guy until he can so to speak handle me. And once he can do that I have to fight every urge to become a needy pleaser who will do anything for him.

No, being good woman isn’t easy. Being a girlfriend and mom is even harder. I do have faith though that when you set out on a journey, you find your destination. It may take time. It may take heartache. It may take a lot of effort. But in the end you get there if you are open to walking the path that takes you there, no matter what obstacles (inner demons) that are thrown on your path. As it states in Ithaca: “Laistrygonians and Cyclops, wild Poseidon – you won’t encounter them unless you bring them along inside your soul, unless your soul sets them up in front of you.”



The whole point of an intimacy is to serve each other in growth and love, hopefully in better ways than we can serve ourselves. Otherwise, why engage in intimacy if your growth and love are served more by living alone? Intimacy is about growing more than you could by yourself, through the art of mutual gifting. 

One of the largest gifts you can give your woman is your capacity to open her heart when it is closed. Sure, she can get her- self out of her dark mood, but your masculine thunderbolt of love can brighten her darkness in a way she can’t do for herself. 

If you are like most men, however, you probably end up feel- ing burdened by your woman’s mood. You feel your woman is a pain in the ass. You wish your woman would leave you alone and take care of herself. Eventually you feel worn down, or frustrated. You end up simply tolerating your woman’s moods, while resentment builds inside of you. You wonder, what’s her problem? Why can’t she just be happy? 

The feminine part of your woman is either opening in loving surrender (easy moments) or closing in what ends up being an emotional test of your capacity to open her (difficult moments). This cycle of the feminine is like all cycles in nature: it never ends. The sooner you learn to embrace and dance with these moods of closure, the sooner both of you will grow beyond the psychodrama and see the humor of the play. 

Instead of tolerating your woman’s moods of closure and complaint, open her moods with your skillful loving. It is your gift to give. Both of you will grow more by your giving than by your tolerating. A superior man sees his woman’s moods not as a curse, but as a challenge and an amusement. 

There are many ways to creatively deal with her moods and help her to open. Tickle her. Take off your clothes and dance the watusi. Sing opera for her. Make animal sounds. Shout at her louder than you ever have and then kiss her passionately. Press your belly into her until she melts. Lift her off the ground and spin her around. Occasionally, talking with her helps, but not as often as humor and physically expressed love. 

If you have tried every creative, humorous, and powerful way of loving through her mood and she still refuses to let go of her closure, then simply relax. You have done everything you can. If you are not skillful enough to serve her, or she is not willing enough to receive your gifts, perhaps you are with the wrong woman. 

Just remember that any woman you are with, if she has a feminine sexual essence, will cycle through moods of closure every day which seem to have no “reason” to them. You cannot avoid this by changing women or waiting for the moods to stop. You can only develop your skill in serving your woman into openness. It never ends though, even if you are passionate, fear- less, loving, and humorous with her. The weather continually cycles through rainy and dry spells, night and day cycle in their turn, and your woman will continually cycle through openness and closure, even when her life and relationship with you seem great. 

If you find yourself merely tolerating this feminine mood cycle because you have been frustrated by endless discussions that go nowhere, you can be sure that you and probably your woman are building up resentment toward each other. Don’t tolerate her mood. And don’t talk about it with her. Participate in it. Bloom her into fullness. Move her body with your body. Open her heart with your humor. Penetrate her closure with your fearless presence. Open her heart, again and again and again. She could do it by herself, but if she could grow more by herself than by receiving your gifts, perhaps she shouldn’t be with you.

- David Deida 

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Filed under Dating, David Deida, femininity, Love, Masculinity, pick-up, relationships, Sensuality, sex, The Way of the Superior Man, Valentine's Day

For only one night…

Have you ever met someone you felt attracted to? Maybe even insanely attracted to? And you would love to have sex with them? But then you step back and start thinking about the pros and the cons and the risks and…pretty soon you’ve talked yourself out of it.

People do that all the time when something potentially big lands on their doorstep.  They think they can’t handle that job, that they shouldn’t take the next step in that relationship, that they really should not even contemplate living that dream, because who are they to handle it? Who are they not to?

Likewise, sometimes they apply the flip side of the coin mentality and rush headfirst into anything without thinking; without truly feeling out the matter at hand. Because merely thinking about it can create as much problems as not thinking about it. Logic can do as much harm as it can do good. Sometimes taking the longer route means you end up on your destination on time, whilst taking the shorter one would have meant being really late.

Gut reactions that have nothing to do with intuition are also sometimes dangerous, depending on what they are based on; what knowledge you’ve picked up from the past. Gut reactions is what makes a cop who is in a dodgy area shoot as someone on their suspect list is pulling out a banana. Their mind reacts instinctively. The same thought processing makes you think every new person you meet will be like the last one you met. Funnily enough that in and of itself means you gravitate to the same kind of people time and time again. They feel secure somehow. Your brain recognizes them.

Our mind often creates hassles that are completely irrelevant. The what ifs manage to ruin the entire experience. It’s kind of like people walking into the bedroom with someone turning off the light as they think the other person won’t like their body. Then why did that person walk into the bedroom with them? Not saying one doesn’t feel exposed. If I like someone the first time with them I can be so nervous I get nothing right at all. It’s one big “Oh my God, am I doing the right thing?” Those thoughts serve pretty much no purpose but making me enjoying the experience less, being less tuned into what’s actually happening and going with the flow. If you are in the moment you feel where you should be going next. And if in doubt, you can ask.

A lot of people have these completely irrelevant thoughts going round their minds nonstop – they are walking around thinking they are ugly, they are getting new wrinkles, their hair is turning grey, their body is wonky, they aren’t smart enough, they will never run fast enough, they really can’t spell…whatever it is they are feeling bad about. It provides nothing of value to their life. Whilst it’s healthy to think “Oh, maybe I need to go exercise now” or “Maybe I need to learn more about this,” condemning your own body and mind isn’t.

Be proud of what you’ve got and what you’ve got flaunt.

I watched The Time Traveler’s Wife years ago and burst out crying because I realized I’d never been my own friend. I was never that future self who came to my younger self to say it will all be OK. That I am OK. That it’s perfectly fine being me. That my life is a gift and I’m free to explore it as I like, without judgment from anyone else, least myself.

Till only a few months prior to watching that movie I’d never ever felt OK to be me. I was always chasing something; always trying to be more. I’d never known self love. I had never been able to be happy to just be. I thought I had to do something. That was, until a major depression after losing my grandma and one night sitting in a hot tub and praying to God whilst looking at the moon, asking for help. In that moment I realized life was mine to explore. I didn’t have to achieve anything. Life was my gift. Mine alone. That night changed my entire life. I finally felt like I understood love. I finally started to understand  happiness.

We think so many strange things matter. Like how many promotions we get, or if we are driving a better car than the jerk down on the corner. We compete. With ourselves and others. Whilst always exploring and growing is beautiful, competing and feeling inadequate whilst doing so is not.

It’s a feeling in adequacy that makes most people compete. That and the glorious thrill of winning. Winning what?

Are you enjoying the game, or the thrill? Are you avoiding pain by pushing yourself harder, or just playing to play. To explore, find out, learn, grow…

This week I posted the below photo on Facebook, I think I’ve posted it before, but as it came up in my newsfeed I once again felt the thrill and fear that statement caused. A few hours earlier I’d been thinking about someone who celebrated a new job and I was wondering if they would celebrate that job in years to come still? What we perceive as good or bad only leads to new experiences, which in turn, we perceive as good or bad. Fortunes turn to misfortunes and misfortunes to fortunes in an ongoing stream of events.


I went to bed just after posting that photo and woke up the next morning to the news that my friend had been in a car accident when celebrating his new job. Nothing bad, thankfully, but he was very bruised and in hospital for a day.

The same morning I woke up after dreaming that Tony’s daughter Nickla was jumping into my bed to hug me and I promised Tony I’d give him a massage to try to relieve the pain, then went down to his shack and woke up confused wondering how I’d be able to fight off the drugdealers next door there. In real life Tony is married to one of the teachers at Little Angels, has cancer, lives in a shack and has a wife and two beautiful daughters.

That morning, after the dream and the news of my friend, I called South Africa to congratulate Liezl’s daughter on her birthday and tell her I was going to corrupt her into teenage life – I’ve had to swear on doing sleepovers with her and her cousin, which I’m looking forward to. When I called Liezl, Tony and little Kitty-Kat, his other daughter (i.e. not the one in the dream), were there for the celebration and I spoke to them both.

It hit me that maybe I should donate some of my mother’s old jewelry to him. Mom died from cancer, I don’t use the jewelry, but it would cover some raw juices and soups for him as he can’t eat solids. Why do we hold onto things we don’t use when they could save lives? (If anyone else wants to donate something you no longer use to him, you can contact me through Little Angels – the teachers at Little Angels are paid $50 a month for full time work. Tony used to be a mechanic but can’t work very often now. He has my car, so he sometimes drives people for money and he refuses to give up – but he can’t sleep at night from the pain. He needs both food and vitamins. His cancer went back slightly last year when we fed him carrot juice and lemon with baking soda. He’s too weak for chemo.)

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Top: Kitty-Kat and the one tap we have at Little Angels. Middle: Princess Nickla. Bottom, myself and the two of them.

In the past seven days I’ve also seen three Facebook friends have babies and three posting about others passing away. It puts things in perspective.

Be who you are. Go out and explore life on your own terms. It’s your life. You own it. You have all the right in the world to feel handsome, beautiful, smart, wonderful and fabulous. You have the right to enjoy your life as you please. You have the right to date whom you choose, work with what you choose and go on any kind of adventures you choose. It’s your life. Don’t let illogical logic or negative self believes get in the way.

See each moment with a person as gift to enjoy them. You never know when tomorrow never comes. You just don’t. And it’s scary shit, but at least it makes us appreciate what we have. Right now. And I think most people’s lives and relationships would be transformed if they only lived remembering this.

If you had just one day with yourself left, how would you see yourself differently?

If you had just one day with someone else, how would you see them differently?

If you knew you were just visiting your life here on Earth for one day, how would you see it differently?

How much more would you appreciate yourself and others if you only had one day with them?

I bet you would live out your fantasies so much more if you only had one night. There’d be nothing to lose. When you have more than one night though, there is so much more to gain. This is when you should truly live your fantasies. If you start today, just think how far you will come in years from now.

Jesse: Alright, I have an admittedly insane idea, but if I don’t ask you this it’s just, uh, you know, it’s gonna haunt me the rest of my life

Celine: What?

Jesse: Um… I want to keep talking to you, y’know. I have no idea what your situation is, but, uh, but I feel like we have some kind of, uh, connection. Right?

Celine: Yeah, me too.

Jesse: Yeah, right, well, great. So listen, so here’s the deal. This is what we should do. You should get off the train with me here in Vienna, and come check out the capital.

Celine: What?

Jesse: Come on. It’ll be fun. Come on.

Celine: What would we do?

Jesse: Umm, I don’t know. All I know is I have to catch an Austrian Airlines flight tomorrow morning at 9:30 and I don’t really have enough money for a hotel, so I was just going to walk around, and it would be a lot more fun if you came with me. And if I turn out to be some kind of psycho, you know, you just get on the next train.

Jesse: Alright, alright. Think of it like this: jump ahead, ten, twenty years, okay, and you’re married. Only your marriage doesn’t have that same energy that it used to have, y’know. You start to blame your husband. You start to think about all those guys you’ve met in your life and what might have happened if you’d picked up with one of them, right? Well, I’m one of those guys. That’s me y’know, so think of this as time travel, from then, to now, to find out what you’re missing out on. See, what this really could be is a gigantic favor to both you and your future husband to find out that you’re not missing out on anything. I’m just as big a loser as he is, totally unmotivated, totally boring, and, uh, you made the right choice, and you’re really happy.

Celine: Let me get my bag.


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I can steam up any room…

I’m grumpy. Do you ever get grumpy? I do. I have a fabulous pout.

I started writing this blog, the steamy bit, way before I was pouting, but I still find the blog appropriate. I mean, one can steam up any room with a bit of anger, can’t one? That’s not what I had in mind when I started writing this morning though. This morning I was thinking about steamy cars. Ever made out with someone in a car till it got all steamed up? It’s pretty funny how that happens. There’s an epic scene in Titanic about it, but I thought it wasn’t true. Till I tried. It’s a rather effective way of keeping the neighbors out.

Someone asked me if I was all fogged up too this morning, that’s somehow how I ended up thinking about cars (Los Angeles gets epic fogs, which most people don’t know of – they think London is foggy…nope) and it was all it took not to reply that I can steam up any room. My mind works in fabulous ways. Never start a blog with naughty headlines, I tell you. It will ruin you. I’ve tried to come up with so many clever sexy headlines that now my brain is on sex pilot.

I actually think it’s a problem. Like any message I get from anyone and I can come up with either a sexy, or humorous/quirky reply. Sadly some people don’t get it. They think I’m serious. Guys too. I get into a lot of problems, whether with the sarcasm, or the innuendo. I guess the innuendo is sometimes really true, but often I just wanna play. And some take it a bit too seriously. Or they miss the mark and don’t get it at all.

I am actually sulking because I have so much to do and this week felt like it just flew by and I didn’t get it done. I mean I got some things done, doh, but I lost sleep somewhere and ended up with a foggy head and didn’t get enough done, because I was so bloody tired. I actually had a breakthrough in one area which was marvelous. I mean I can breathe again for the first time in months. It’s a miracle. On the other hand, there are still problems to be solved and certain things scare me. Things in Cape Town where we are dealing with so many fragile situations and also (don’t laugh) the idea of ever losing control and having stability.

You know what freaks me out about stability? I feel like I lose control, because if I feel safe, then I relax. And if something happens, then I will be shocked. If life is always unstable, then I can’t relax. I have to keep fighting. That’s safe. The moment you relax all kinds of things could go wrong. Like you know, when you see a hot guy you could walk into a lamp post. I once almost fell into a pool. Another time I fell down a stair. And let’s not forget the time I dropped my tray with dinner. Falling in love is about as scary as it gets. Which is potentially why I don’t normally do it. Unless I feel it’s uncertain enough that I don’t need to let go and surrender. It’s easier to be in love with a dream than the real deal, like a real person whom you have to rely on. And we all know that men don’t take out the rubbish, nor do their dishes. No, they watch football instead. Totally unreliable. It’s a disaster. Seriously. Let’s not ever get into their laundry habits.

So of course the task is to surrender to all my fears in every way. In every moment, in every situation, in everything. Business, life, everything. I will need a lot of red wine. One cannot not surrender with red wine in the system. I think I shall become a puritan by tomorrow and keep strict control. For tonight I shall enjoy the wine whilst writing a trashy romance novel. Can’t complain that work is too taxing. Writing steamy love affairs isn’t, you know, too bad.

I wish gran was still here. I wish she would tell me I’m living all the adventures she never did. Tell me how fabulous I am for just being me and doing all the incredibly stupid things no one else would think to do. My grandparents were the foundations my childhood lacked. Every time I drive into the township and see the kids come running for my car I think of grandpa’s car. Of stability. Of knowing someone cared. Someone always showed up no matter what. Of that one life line in a stormy sea.

I think gran would tell me to be courageous though. Tell me that I’m worthy having a successful business, a family and a home. All those incredibly stable things. If I only had a proper big kitchen I would whip up one of her cakes right now. It’s my therapy for everything. That and whipping cream. Which always cracks up my friends – “Maria is stressed. She’s in the kitchen. Expect a cake. Or just hand whipped cream.”

My life actually just brightened up as my friend who I’m staying with now said I could eat his chocolate. I have so many flipping fantastic friends all over the world. I’m seeing friends from London tomorrow. My best friend’s boyfriend just got here. My best friend will soon be here (can you see me jumping up and down?), I mean how cool is that? I travel all over the world, but have a network of friends who do the same. I’m blessed. If I was only rich too I think life would look up. That would be the kind of stability I could handle. I could hire half the township to work for me and protect a gazillion kids by building boarding schools and make a ton of movies and run a hundred businesses. Oh yes, if only…

For now there’s chocolate. And wine. And I’m surrendering. I am surrendering. Stability is not the scariest thing in the world. Losing control is OK, like even if I got piss drunk I wouldn’t run to one of my neighbors whom I’ve had a crush on since I was like sixteen (the problem with Hollywood – you meet all the men you had posters of on the wall in your teens) and be like “Dude, I would totally love to rip your pants off.” I’d never do that. Seriously. I’ll just bake him some cookies and bring them over instead. I’m a good girl.


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Filed under dealing with stress, fears, funny, Humor, overcoming fears, Personal Development, sex

Being blonde is a sensation…

I was helping my friend who I am staying with yesterday when I got a message from Cape Town that made me so upset, that minutes after putting down the phone I literally felt the blood drain from my cheeks. In other words: I almost fainted. I had to sit down. Fast.

Last year I felt helpless many times. I felt helpless with my hands, trying every cure under the sun until finally I found Dr Sarno’s work. Not being able to type was a horrific experience. The pain I went through in needle treatments made me think that childbirth would be OK. I’m not joking. I remember sitting in my bed in Hollywood and just crying. I didn’t know how to move forward with pretty much anything without my hands nor make money, I just knew I had to do so. I didn’t have insurances; I was in the middle of a visa process in South Africa and my only option to get some help would be to go back to Europe, but my life was in SA and LA. My kids were in SA.

I don’t normally cry, to the point where I think it’s a problem that I don’t cry, but I cried over my hands because I just had no clue. All I kept telling myself is that I’ve solved everything else in my life. I had to solve that too.

Then I came back to Cape Town and it was like one unexpected disaster after another happened. You can’t possibly know that your house will spring a leak, you’ll lose a big client, close relatives will get sick, your kids will go through trauma, SA officials have lied about adoption procedures, friend’s family passes away, friends relapse, friends get ill…and there is no money to bring in resources. You have to get fucking creative.

I spent my childhood trying to be strong. I wanted to be strong to prove to my dad I was good enough. I wanted to be strong so that the bullies couldn’t see the pain. I wanted to be strong so that my step-mom wouldn’t get any satisfaction out of yelling at me. I wanted to be strong till the day I left home and went and created a life of my own.

Of course, by the time I left home I was one big wall – petrified of others opinion of me and always ready to stand strong. By myself.

With the years I worked hard to soften up; to open up. I’m a soft person. I care about others and I feel a lot. I will go to lengths for all those I love and usually for those I don’t love as well. I had my school of hard knocks as a kid and it taught me to sympathize, but the person I always sympathized the least with was myself.

When I got that message yesterday it reminded me of how inadequate I felt last year. It hit a sore point; the sorest of them all potentially. But I did what I had to do – I picked up the phone again and started asking around for help. And I found it. Of all miracles.

The one thing my dad taught me was that anything is possible. He has since probably regretted this because I went onto do everything he advised me against doing, but he was right. It is usually possible. Traveling the world I’ve discovered that if you ask yourself enough questions and talk to enough people, sooner or later you find a solution. It’s the miracle. The miracle that there are people out there always willing to assist you; to share something; to exchange favors; to teach; to help. That, I believe, is one of the greatest lessons of my life. And it’s a beautiful thing.

That, on the other hand, does not always mean I’m happy to ask around. Working for Little Angels I’ve often felt like a beggar – sorry but we have 80 starving kids here, no heating, no toilets, no indoor water, would you, uh, mind helping us out? And sometimes things get desperate. Last year a lot of things got desperate.

Normally when I look around for solutions for my life, there’s time. Last year it wasn’t just about my life, there was little time, no money and not enough supportive structures in my life to hold it all together – I was trying to hold five other people’s lives together and it got too much. I felt so helpless. So inadequate.

Today I had a “don’t mess with me” moment when something happened and suddenly all this came crashing down on me – how I always want to be the strong one. How much I dislike if anything jars with me, especially my emotions, or my sense of adequacy. How I try to protect my heart by being strong. Well, I am LOL. It’s rather amusing really, as people always nominate me to “most inspiring person,” but I always feel like I didn’t do enough.

The person I asked for assistance in Cape Town sent me a message saying I’m a very special person. It meant so much to me. I wasn’t a loser asking for help; I was a special person trying to do something with whatever resources I have. Those resources often count as me, myself and I.

Last year I wanted a million dollars. Or two. To sort out everything happening around me; or at least ease it. I always went for my dreams without much thought of the consequences and I got tired of the lack of stability and security; of striving for things that in the moment seemed impossible. The reason I also wanted it though is because of my ego. To feel adequate.

More than anything though last year I just wanted someone to hug. Someone to tell me that after a day in the township, there is still love. Not someone to help me sort things out, just someone to hug. Just love. So much happened that being strong wasn’t enough. The only problem was in the past when I chose to date, I always felt inadequate. So guess what kind of guys I would pick?

I once had an outburst at work to a colleague saying I’d had enough – at work there was one guy chasing me, at home another and I just didn’t know what to do about it apart from feel awkward and I should know how to deal with it, because it’d happened so many times and… And the woman was like “No, I don’t know. That doesn’t happen to me.” Of course, she was in a happy long term relationship. I was notoriously single. The irony of wanting love and finding half the world’s men on your doorstep whom you don’t want to date. I think it was around this time too someone asked me out for a date. I said no. Then he called me and was like: “Could we just have sex?” No, no, no. It cracked me up quite a bit though.

The thing is I used to see love as unattainable – it just didn’t happen to me. I got all the guys, just not anyone I wanted. And yes, of course, there were flings and long distance non-existing relationships and things like that, but those were exactly the ones that left me feeling inadequate – either because I didn’t want the guy, or the guy didn’t want me.

Last year forced me to open up. I wanted a rock to lean on. Love didn’t seem unattainable anymore; it seemed necessary. I wanted to be so perfect to be with the right guy – to have everything under control and of course, I finally discovered that love is necessary when everything around me was falling apart. When I stopped trying to be strong because I realized even I had a limit. That’s not to say I don’t cringe talking about this, because, well, I’m perfect, after all. I don’t ever think things are too much to handle. That would be like saying I’m inadequate, or something…

The twins were the biggest thing for me last year and they always will be. The news I now got means that the one thing I was the most concerned about of all, is being sorted. My biggest wound if you so like, in what I could and couldn’t do last year. There are people out there who are miracles. For the first time in six months I feel like I can breathe. And cry. Because all the fear I’ve carried around with is starting to let go. My life, it seems, is in one piece again.

There is one more thing that needs to be sorted in Cape Town. Well, and then of course there’s also money for Little Angels, I have a business to launch, and I need an adoption agency abroad, so I have to make enough money for that due to retarded South African laws, but that’s it. Till the next crisis occurs, that is. In the township, that appears to be daily.

As I didn’t have a boyfriend last year, what I did after every painful needle treatment that was just too much to handle, or every day I felt like I was going to break, I went to Little Angels and hugged the kids. One in particular. You see, the twins are not the only kids I want to adopt. A few others are on the waiting list. One who, all by herself, decided I am going to look after her. I get tears in my eyes thinking of that kid. She’s my hope, like I’m hers. Currently she’s looking after the twins for me. She’s younger than them. And sometimes she annoys them like crazy, especially as they get jealous. They have, however, allowed me to add her to the “extended family list” we keep on the wall. It includes a rather large amount of people – from my best friend who is their fairy god mother to Liezl’s entire family. Who they have, in my absence, promised to fly to L.A. All of them. Miss T asked me on the phone the other day if she could bring Liezl’s kids to visit. And the twins are so cute. I asked their permission to date before I left Cape Town and they got all excited and were like “and then he’s gonna be our daddy.” That may be far in the future, for now I’m still happy every time they call me ‘mama,’ but it was cute to see them so excited. Of course, I need to learn to fall in love with the right men…or uhm, man…and the thought of someone loving me and my crazy life still sounds wild to me, but it’s those conversations that keep me going. My little Klan of Angels. From Little Angels to the City of Angels.

P.S. I feel a bit vulnerable posting this. Just me? OK then.

Being Blonde Is a Sensation

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I want to spend 59 million nights in your bed… #NaughtyBedTimeStories

I believe there comes a time when there is no longer time for procrastination. I believe that time is now. It’s always now. On that note – do we have time for a quickie? Great. Because the article I’m writing is boring as anything and surely boredom is not good for your health? Sex, on the other hand, is great.

The problem? There is no man right here that I would want to get down and dirty with, making having a quickie a slight issue. My health, in other words, is suffering. But not to fret – there is now Obama Care that I can’t apply for because I don’t have the right visa. You see? This is getting dangerous – boring article, no sex, no Obama Care. My life is on the line.

Do you ever feel frustrated like that? I do. Sometimes you just wish you were on top of Mount Everest when you are standing at the bottom. Kind of like when you wake up looking like hell because you didn’t get enough sleep, drowsily jump into the shower and somehow feed and dress the twins before going shopping for some things at the supermarket and run into someone extremely gorgeous whilst your hair is still wet and standing in all directions and the twins are running in at least two directions simultaneously, whilst you are trying to catch them by running in a third. It really makes you look great in the eyes of a potential admirer. Not to forget – you are wearing your big geek glasses too.

This is a true story – it happened one day in Cape Town. All I could think was that my mommy sex appeal must be on the bottom level. Not that most men even think to look at moms, but still. Like where’s my manicure, pedicure, and nanny? It was actually a really bizarre moment. A month earlier I had been a hot blonde (in my own humble opinion, naturally). A month later I hadn’t slept for a month, I was over worked, looked like hell, felt like hell and saw myself waving goodbye to any future admirers. This my darlings is called foster transition. It’s bar none one of the most petrifying experiences of my life. Before you start fostering kids I suggest you google it. I didn’t. I had no idea what was about to hit me together with everything else that hit me that month.

The thing is, we gotta get on with things. The sooner I finish my boring article, the sooner I have time for other things. There were days last year when the only thing keeping me going was the thought that “this too shall pass.” I knew I was at the bottom at a very steep mountain and I had to climb it. I’m still climbing it. Sometimes it freaks me out as I fear I will never get to the top. And sometimes I get frustrated because I think wouldn’t life be so much easier right now if at least I could just have a quickie? Or you know, jump into someone’s arms at night to talk about the day gone by? Just that support you know. But as many desires and wishes as we have (and the wish for chocolate is sometimes just as bad…oh and an Audi. I’m a total traffic danger in Beverly Hills. There are way too many hot men, Audis and palm trees. I need an Audi, you understand? A5, A7 or R8. And a hot man. Or a hot man in an Audi. Sometimes I think it would be a shame to drive it myself, as it’s much better if there’s a sexy man in a sexy car, because you can do sexy things in that sexy car, but I digress…), we have to disengage from them and focus on the task at hand. So that one day we get to the top. So that one day we can have both the man and the Audi. Or the man and the Tesla. That could work too.


Come to think of it, I think I do want that car for myself… 

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Where was I? A bit too many cars and hot men for me to think straight. Maybe instead of thinking about it one should just go up to people and be like “You strike me as being extremely fuckable.” Then again, I don’t think that will land you the love of your life. Seriously, never go driving in Bev Hills. Especially now there are the 50 Shades billboards up too. The book was terrible. Worse than terrible, but the posters for the movie are divine. I do think you need a date to go see the actual movie though. Watching it alone would be a challenge. Just imagine the sexual frustration afterwards. You might accidentally stumble in your high heels and land on top of/underneath the nearest man. That’s even worse than the sexual frustration that occurs when driving in Bev Hills. Just saying.

So yes, uhm, don’t procrastinate, don’t go driving in Bev Hills if you are single and if you can help it, just don’t be single. It creates irritate thinking patterns. There’s absolutely way too much sex in this piece of writing which goes to show my point. Just do what you need to do. One step at a time. One man at a time.

On that note – good night. I wish you splendid naughtiness all night long. And just the right amount of romance too.

(PS visitors to Sydney spent 59 million nights there in 2011 or 2013. You know, the things you pick up when you write boring articles.)


See, at least I climbed one mountain – I’m on top of the Hollywood Hills, right where I belong. 

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Filed under determination, foster mom, Heart, Humor, Inspiration, Motherhood, naughty, sex, single mom

I think you’re the sexiest man alive…

I was talking to someone yesterday and she was a bit sad that someone she met some time ago wanted “space.” And as the story goes he was special. They all are. That’s why you date them. The thing is, you are special too.

If I choose to date someone, it’s because I believe they have the potential to be the sexiest man alive. If I choose to hang out with someone, it’s because I believe they can be a true friend. If I choose to do business with someone it’s because I believe that their unique way of doing business is incredible.

You are unique. Never sell yourself short. Yes, it’s terribly annoying when you run into an investor whom you know could make your business happen and they don’t seem to know whether to go for it or not. You have to do the striptease – show them what’s on offer. What their ROI will be, but beyond that, it’s their choice. Sitting daydreaming about them isn’t going to help. The most pro-active thing you can do is line up fifty other investors, instead of moping about the “maybe baby.” You can still choose the original investor if they come through, but don’t wait for them.

When we are talking about a private investor in your life who could set your body on fire and set your soul alight with laughter, then it’s ever so fucking frustrating to stand there with your wet dream, but that’s just it: it’s a dream. Go find someone who will make your dream come true, not just someone who will make you twist and turn as you think about them at night, aching with frustration.

The problem seems to be when people find something they want and they have no other alternatives lined up. It’s like they are looking at the only bottle of water in the desert, as right now they don’t know where the others are. It’s not that other bottles don’t exist, but they aren’t readily available and it seems people aren’t willing to wait till they find them. They want their fix and they want it now. The thing is, chances are going after the one bottle they can see right now, will likely mean the whole thing will take even longer, as that bottle of water isn’t going to allow them to drink from it and they will waste their time trying; in the end having to find another bottle anyway.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t give a guy or gal space. I’m not saying I don’t believe in second chances. I’m not saying it’s not honorable if someone wants to sort their shit out before they continue a relationship with you. I’m not saying relationship and business investments don’t take time to figure out and people might need a cold shower before they proceed. What I’m saying is that you have to put your life first and move forward, irrespective of what they choose to do. Don’t get caught up in a wet dream.

Also – if you are chasing a flake: if someone doesn’t invest in your life, your business, or you, neither they, nor you will get anything in return, as there is no investment to leverage off. All relationships take an effort and instead of running after people, trying to get them to invest, consider finding someone willing to invest without you having to do anything more than invest yourself. No matter how great a connection you have with someone or how awesome they are when they are around, without investment, there will be no happy relationship, be it in business or in bed.

You’re a miracle, did you know that? The way you smile, makes someone smile. The way you hug, makes someone thankful to be your friend. The way you show up in someone’s life, makes all the difference. The way you are unique, changes everything for a person, an organization, or even the world. If the people around you don’t see that, it’s time to find other people to be around.

If a guy or gal leaves you hot and bothered without finishing the job, go find someone who does. You want an orgasm, not a fucking fit of frustration (and there really should be no fucking in that sentence…).


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Filed under Business, Dating, Humor, Personal Development, relationships, self-worth