Everybody here was someone else before, and you can want who you want…

ooof, you guys…changing my sleep schedule is proving to be the most difficult challenge I’m having to deal with being here. Last night I worked my first shift (!!!!) and didn’t get off until 4am, and then I slept 3 hours and now I’m wide fucking awake. Which would be fine except I have to work 4pm – 6am tonight, and I have a 9am session tomorrow morning, so the next 24 hours are going to be rough…here’s to hoping I fall asleep in the next 2 hours and get a nap in. Buttt, before I do that I wanted to let you guys know how my day was yesterday, as I’m sure you’re all just sitting at the edge of your seats waiting.

Because I had to wait for my test results to come in and for the doctor to clear me for working I got to spend the majority of my day doing whatever I’d like…I woke up early and did some yoga, went for a run, made a really good breakfast. I took a little nap, watched a movie, and then laid out by the pool for a little reading, it was blissful honestly. I met another bunny while hanging by the pool and she gave me a lot of advice about working here and what it’s like. I thought she seemed pretty cool, but I’ve come to find out that some of the things she told me are bullshit and not true at all. It’s weird being here and not knowing who to trust and who genuinely wants to help you succeed, and who is just trying to steer you in a different direction from them. I would say the thing girls lie about most here are prices, I can’t get a straight answer from anyone regarding what I should charge. Mostly, it seems that the other girls want me to charge high amounts because if I’m hosting parties (that’s what they call your date with the johns) for $500 but they’re demanding 1500-2000 for a party with them, then most likely I (the cheaper offer) will win out. The politics are are very interesting and a little intimidating, and I would say I’m not all that good at knowing when I’m being bullshitted so I’m definitely wary.

I also got to go down to the Sheriff’s office to register and get my whore license, and I have to say, it was nothing like I was imagining. I wanted to walk through a legitimate police station and be able to feel all the cops watching me and judging me, but in reality I sat in a waiting room with some other hookers and two receptionist ladies took care of everything. We never went into the station and we never saw a single cop 😦 But I made friends with some of the other girls who are working at the other houses down here (there’s like 5 brothels in the vicinity of a mile). I wish they were here at TBR because they were so upbeat and friendly and outgoing, I just know working with them would be a fucking party. It’s so cool seeing how different we all are, but then we have this one huge thing in common. And it was really nice to be able to talk with girls who understood what I was going through, they too were all struggling to make friends with the other girls in their houses. Although I must confess, I’m doing really good now! So fingers crossed I get to go out with those girls for brunch sometime before I leave, we’re all in a group text chat titled ‘Whore’s R Us’….snaps to follow if it works out! The planning has been a little tricky because surprisingly, the brothels do not encourage the girls from different houses to hang out or meet up, like I couldn’t invite them over here to hang out when I’m off shift, we would have to pay the driver to come pick us all up and take us somewhere. And even then, it would be a little frowned upon that we’re all fraternizing…but we all agreed to let them frown because having girls here who genuinely want to be your friend and are kind is proving to be a bit of a rarity.

So, I’m officially registered to prostitute at any brothel in the state of Nevada, legally. Which is still fucking wild and splendid to me haha I hope when I leave I get to take my brothel card with me because I want to frame it and hang it on my wall. I would say about 80% of my time here I’m uncomfortable in some way emotionally, but every 10 minutes or so I’m also overwhelmed with gratitude that I’m here. This is just such a cool fucking experience, you have no idea. Well, I’m trying to give you an idea but I definitely feel like I’m coming up short. As I said, last night was my first shift on the floor. I got assigned a big bunny and she kind of showed me the ropes of what to do when a guy picks you as well as go over all of the house rules. I would say I’ve probably broken every rule since being here; I had food in my room, I had my own personal alcohol in my room, I had candles lit in my room, I walked around the house without shoes on…but thankfully it seems that they’re not all that strict in enforcing the rules around here. The binder that has all their policies and rules and such in it is called ‘The Bunny Bible’ which I thought was the cutest fucking thing ever. I got a mini orientation from Jenny, who is honestly such a peach. I get the sense that our politics/views on life are verrry different, but there’s not really much space for that in this house so it hasn’t come up too much. She’s basically every southern gentleman and rednecks walking dream, and she can put away more shots than anybody I’ve ever seen, I’ve become a fast fan. But this is what I learned during orientation, and what you can expect should you ever come through the doors of The Bunny Ranch…

Once the guy rings the door bell, he’s welcomed in by a greeter who then rings a buzzer that goes throughout the whole house. If you hear that buzzer and are on shift, you must come to the lobby for what they call the ‘line up’ (there’s a line on the floor and everything). You’re welcome to come out even if you’re off shift if you feel like working, as long as you’re not worn out or too tired to then work your scheduled shift. So all the bunnies line up in front of the guy, and we’re not allowed to talk to him or each other while we wait for everyone to get there…even if he asks us a question. We are just supposed to stand there, make eye contact and smile. Guys, its so fucking terrifying to be standing there haha the anticipation is almost suffocating. Every time I heard the buzzer go off my heart jumped into my throat and my legs started shaking. It’s a little bit awkward because the guy is already nervous and then there’s just like 14/15 beautiful women wearing next to nothing staring at him with these cheesy smiles on their faces, but somehow it works. So once the bunnies have all arrived the greeter gives a little speech and then we all go down the line and introduce ourselves, “Hi, I’m Harper” and that’s all you get…just that one sentence to try and intrigue him enough so that he will pick you. I’ve never practiced the cadence of 3 words so much in my life. You can’t do anything physically or verbally different that may make you stand out from the rest of the bunnies, you can’t have any of your body parts showing, just very basic and minimal. That’s considered playing dirty. The guy is then instructed to walk up to any girl he pleases, and the party starts from there! Last night I was in four lineups, but haven’t been picked yet which I was totally okay with because I’m still getting a feel for everything. However, there’s definitely something a little bit mentally taxing about standing there and watching guy after guy not pick you, it didn’t like shake me to the core or anything but there’s just this quick feeling of ‘why not me?’ and then it’s gone. After the girl is picked she then gives the guy a mini tour of the ranch or asks if he wants to hang out at the bunny bar and have a drink first, kind of whichever he prefers. We have two different window boxes in the bar that are filled with every pink sex toy you could ever imagine and the guys is welcome (more like encouraged) to buy any that he may want for the party. But we’re all required to have toys of our own anyways, so that part is just an add on. After small talk and getting to know each other, the bunny will invite the guy back to her room for the negotiations…we’re only allowed to negotiate in our bedrooms with the door cracked, nowhere else. And so you either come to an agreement and go from there, or if the bunny and the guy can’t agree on a price for what he’s looking for she’ll bring him back out to the lounge so he can mingle with other bunnies and try to find one who is willing to work in his budget. The big cardinal rule is to not talk with/smile at/make eye contact with any guy who is in the house with another girl…you must act like they’re both completely invisible to you otherwise it could be seen as trying to poach her man. I struggled with that so hard, it’s such a habit to just smile and look at people you’re walking by, but I’m learning quickly that that will put me on a very bad list.

Overall, it all seems pretty straight forward and easy. Last night was fairly slow so we played a few games of Uno and then watched a romcom all cuddling in front of the fireplace in the lounge. I feel like the other bunnies are starting to really like me, which definitely helps with keeping a positive headspace. Once I’m successfully on the appropriate sleeping schedule here I think it’s going to be pure paradise 🙂 I’m excited to see what tonight holds, I’m told Friday and Saturday nights are the busiest….I hope I get picked for a party this evening, cross your fingers!

I’m going to try and take a nap before I have to go get ready, more to come later!

xx

Harper

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Happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time

AHHHHH!!!! Day 1 is just about done, and I made it!! I must confess, it’s been a rollercoaster of a day. I can’t quite put my finger on it but there’s something about being here that makes me giddy, it just feels like I was meant to be here. From the pink lightbulbs in the hallway to the velvet, high back couches in the lounge to the framed pictures of naked women doing dirty things hanging throughout the house, this place was built to celebrate women like me. Even though it’s just been a day, my heart feels at home.

Today is Wednesday which means that we all had to go see the doctor and get tested for STD’s. So, when the doctor arrived we all went into a room to wait to be seen, and you guys…I didn’t say a single thing, to anybody. Even this girl I met last night who was so beyond nice to me, I made zero effort to start a conversation with her at all. I was so overwhelmed, it was a bit of a mess. Social anxiety is reeeaaal, ya know?? All the girls are so completely different, but I could see a bit of myself in each of them. We all had fake nails, eyelash extensions, most of us had fake tits, there were hair extensions and Louis Vuitton purses and the smell of fake tans was a bit overwhelming. And I would say about 75% of us are white girls with blonde hair and light eyes. I guess it should have made me feel more comfortable, being around other girls who were like me, but there was something unsettling about having it all on display like that in front of me. Like I wasn’t original or special at all. BUT I have to give props to my babes on Snapchat, I’ve never felt so championed and supported as I did this afternoon opening the snaps from all of you…I don’t know what I did to deserve the love that you guys give me, but I’m not lying when I say it’s a major reason why I am who I am today. Soooo, after I opened a bunch of snaps reminding me of how awesome I am, I decided to stop hiding in my bedroom and start over. I ran to Walmart to get some comfort items (like a new pillow because the ones they have are literal shit) and some healthy food because I’ve been eating like crap these past 24 hours, and I think getting out of the house and doing something so normal and mundane really helped me hit the reset button because I ended up having a really good evening. I’m pretty thankful that TBR has on site drivers (24/7) to take the girls wherever we need to go, and so far the 2 drivers I have met have been out of this world nice. I chatted about politics with my driver today, I think his name is Steve, he’s a Rachel Maddow fan too! And I found out that Dennis Hof, the pimpdaddy extraordinaire himself, is running for office down here….as a fucking Republican, go figure right? WTH. But anyways I’m getting off topic, I spent this evening hanging out in the Bunny Lounge which is basically the big bar area you walk into after the lobby. It’s got a pretty swanky feel, I love how comforting it is. There’s definitely a cool vibe throughout this whole house, and the vibe is sex. There are these big velvet red couches, a fire place, and mirrored walls. There’s a bar with a pink neon sign over it that says ‘Bunny Bar’ and of course some stripper poles. And they have TV’s playing mini videos of each of the girls dancing or writhing around in tiny clothes…I wonder if I’ll get to make a video or if my stay is going to be too short. I liked watching the videos though because each girls was different and it really showcased their unique personalities, I thought it was a darling personal touch. So, the plan was that I was just going to sit in the corner next to the fire and do some emails/read while I observed everything going on, because I didn’t want to do too much socializing or mingling and have the other girls thinking I was trying to take their men, but a few girls sat down next to me and we started chatting about Marvel movies and how dreamy Ryan Reynolds is…because obvi. And so my plans were pleasantly ruined. Two of them were bunnies like me, one was the bartender, one was a cashier (who they call Hooker Booker’s here..I fucking love it) and the other girl (who I’m def crushing on) was the girl that greets the guys as they walk in. We ended up playing this dice game, that was so complicated and long but I totally won so it was worth it haha it was nice to get to be a part of something going on here, but even more than that it was cool to get to know some of the other people working here. There’s a few girls who are definitely like me, where sex work is a source of empowerment and excitement in their lives but some of them are miserable here. You can see it in how they act and how they talk, one of the girls I hung out with tonight (our vibes def clashed) has been trying to get out of the game for a while, but the money is too good for her to really leave. So far my favorite bunny is the girl from last night, her name is Bobbi and she’s just so bubbly and pleasant to be around. She lives here full time, putting herself through graduate school and you can tell she loves what she does. Genuinely. Tonight we got a chance to talk a bit at the bar (I apologized for not talking to her this morning in the waiting room), and she bought me a drink while she waited for a client of hers to show up. I can just tell that our hearts and minds are in the same place, so I’m excited to get to know her more and spend more time with her….who knows, maybe one day I can bring her over to the East Coast for a party 😉

Tomorrow I have to go to the local Sheriff’s office to register and get my prostitution license, how crazy right?! I’m actually kind of really excited about that part, I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear, I want it to scream badass hahaha I just love the idea of getting to walk into a police station and tell them that I’m a whore and watch them have to validate it…on paper. Legally. For real fucking life. So, be sure that there will be snaps of that sometime in the afternoon. Annnnd theeeeen, if everything goes well and both the doctor and the Sheriff clear me, I finally get to start working. I was told that my schedule is going to be Monday – Thurs 4pm to 4am and then Friday – Sunday 4pm – 6 am…so that’s going to be a bit of a tough adjustment, but I’m glad that I get to work the late night shift because arguably that’s when it’s busiest here. Although, I have to say, it doesn’t seem like there’s any rhyme or reason to the flow of customers coming in. And from what the girls say you can never plan, because it’s so inconsistent and constantly changing. But when it’s slow everyone working plays a card game or watches a movie and that sounds equally as fun, so I’m really excited!

Okay, well I’m exhausted so that’s all I can get out right now…it was definitely more logistical than me delving into my feelings but I really want you guys to get a sense of what the days are like here, you already know the mess that is my heart 🙂 I’m really glad to have you all in my life, when I felt the most alone today it was you guys that reminded me that I wasn’t. My love for you is unending.

xx

Harper

 

Baby, let the games begin

If I could pick one word to describe the feeling that’s settled in and made itself home in my heart these days, I would have to choose thankful.  It’s a weird feeling walking into an experience that you know is going to change your life forever. I feel like there’s this big bundle of energy inside of my stomach that’s radiating shocks of anxiety throughout my entire body, like at any moment little lightning bolts are going to shoot from my fingertips. This time tomorrow I’ll be an official escort at the world famous Moonlite Bunny Ranch. There’s no way to know what this place is going to hold for me, or what it’s going to do for me, but I know that I won’t be the same girl when I leave as I am arriving, and that’s a thrilling yet terrifying thing to experience. So, I’m trying to just take a moment and sit with this feeling, with the bundle of energy, and simply observe it. With curiosity, with a little apprehension, and with a whole lot of gratitude. I’m beyond thankful that I’m being pushed out of my comfort zone enough to experience this, to experience the petrifying excitement that’s cursing through my veins. It’s such a rush, honestly. I tend to do this every few years or so, I shake up my life in some extraordinary way and come out on the other side completely changed…and I have to say, so far it’s worked out really well for me. So here’s hoping. I hope that it’s everything I’m wishing it to be, I hope I’m everything they’re wishing me to be. Being an escort isn’t something that I ever planned, I don’t think many girls grow up dreaming of becoming a hooker, and yet I’m so thankful that I decided to go down this road. Escorting has given me such a power, it’s taught me that I have worth and that nobody gets to decide that worth except for me. It’s given me the opportunity to heal people, to give them the things that are missing most from their life. Shit, it’s given me the opportunity to find the things that were missing most from my life. Rumor has it that I’m going to have to negotiate my prices face to face with the potential clients that come into the Ranch, and I have to be honest I’m pretty fucking terrified for that part. But it’s the part I’m most excited about too because what a fucking cool skill to learn?! Women are very hardly ever taught how to speak up for themselves, how to hold their ground, how to voice their boundaries or  limits or desires (or worth for that matter). And yet men are naturally raised to effortlessly demand the things they want and expect without hesitation, so more than anything I want to learn that confidence. To risk sounding a bit like a horrible person, I’m excited to learn what effortless entitlement feels like kinda. To looks someone in the eye and let them know that if they want certain things from me than I’m entitled to certain specific things back. And that those ‘certain things’ is my body being exchanged for money…well to me it makes it that much cooler.

So, I just read back over this and realize I voice like 18 different emotions that I’m going through right now, which I’m sure is a bit confusing, but all I can say about that is imagine how it feels for me…I feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. Growing up I was pretty much the least desired person in any room I walked into, I was invisible at school and completely unwanted at home. I didn’t become familiar with the feeling of being desired until just a few years ago, and now I’ve made an entire career based around that feeling…I guess you could say I got addicted. And while most of the time I feel more and more like the sexual badass I portray myself to be, sometimes I still feel like that little girl. It’s the whole reason Harper was created in the first place, when I’m Harper there’s no question about how desirable I am or what I have to offer people, Harper’s confidence is unshakable. She’s an escape inside of myself. And living inside of that character for two weeks is going to be such an emotional and mentally rewarding exercise. Hopefully anyways. Because there’s no room for that little girl who is full of doubt and insecurity when you’re standing half naked demanding hundreds of dollars for your time. And so I hope, if nothing else, that this stint at The Bunny Ranch will help make Harper even more of a reality and less of an escape in my life. Also, I really hope I get to do at least one group session while I’m out here because I’m genuinely a whore and seven cocks are so much more fun than one. If I got to see Vegas that would be cool too. And I wouldn’t be mad if I made at least one bunny friend (please cross all of your fingers that the girls are nice).

So, in five hours I’ll be arriving at the front door of the Ranch, knees shaking and heart pounding…open and excited for everything it has to teach me. It makes me feel less alone knowing that I get to write what’s going on for you guys, so I really appreciate you being here for me and for being so encouraging of this new journey. One day I may be able to finally find the words to explain what having you all following and supporting me means, but for now my mind is in other places. I love you all. Sleep tight and stay tuned.

xx

Harper

 

 

 

But i believe in whatever you do, and i’ll do anything to see it through

So, i went to LA recently and had the kinkiest most wonderful time of my life and then i came home and my kink filled life here seemed awfully vanilla. And i got depressed, and agitated, and annoyed. And i have realized that when my life is not a constant hurricane of cocks and cum and kink and sex then i start overthinking and i start listening to these voices from my old life that i usually brush off. And these voices aid in my frustration, and then i take that anger and misplace it on those who don’t deserve it. And this is not good slave mannerisms. This is not who i want to be. But today i realized something….if you want to be degraded and used by men, you have to let them know. If you want to live a kinky life, you have to go out and find that kink. Humans are so simple, and most of them, almost all the time, want to cum. Being a fucktoy, or discovering any kink, is as easy as you let it. But you have to tell the people in your life. Nobody can read your mind. You have to tell the people that you want to fuck that you want to fuck them, they can’t just figure it out by you thinking really hard in their direction.  You have to get out there and experience it.  i mean, if what you’re after is to be the kind of woman (or man) who fucks anybody who wants to fuck her, you kind of have to fuck anyone who wants to fuck you.  Do it for the fun of it, for the experience, whatever.  Don’t take everything so seriously all the time.  This is a lesson that i keep forgetting i have already learned; sex doesn’t have to be so serious all of the time.

i remember when i first started to explore my kink and look into becoming more sexually adventures, when i first started working and communicating with guys about meeting up and playing. And most of the guys assumed i was a man, or a liar, or trying to trick them into something, some just wanted to talk without ever meeting up, some were freaked out when they realized i was serious. Some were mean and made fun of me.  But some of them took me up on it.  Some of the sex felt good and some of it hurt and some of it was boring.  Some was uncomfortable or awkward.  Some of it was weird.  Some of the guys were actually dominant and some were just pretending and some were just trying it out to see if they liked it. Some of them were big, some were small. Some of them smelled bad and some of them were delicious. None of that was the point, though.  The point was that i wanted to explore different sexual scenes and play with other people, i wanted to become someone for men to use, so i went out and became one.  It didn’t just come to me.  And i forget that if i tell men that i want to be a fucktoy then i will get used like such, it’s that simple. But they can’t read my mind. And i forgot how easy this was, i forgot how fulfilling it was. i forgot how much i love and thrive in this lifestyle. And so i stopped for a little, without realizing it i was getting frustrated at the fact that i wasn’t being used when i was the one preventing myself from being used. Because of these stupid voices.

So, this is for all those fuckhole wanna be wonderful fantastic sluts out there, or really for anyone who is on the fence about exploring a certain kink of theirs….there are a lot of messages women get in this world trying to scare them away from going after what they want sexually.  Most women are shamed for even trying to figure out what they enjoy, whether or not they even do anything about it.  The idea that you can just go out and ask for what you want is something the whole world doesn’t want you to know.  But the truth is, you can do what you want.  You can go after your fantasies. You can be called a slut or a whore and take pride in it. You can get off on misogyny and still be a decent human being. It won’t be perfect every time and that’s okay.  Maybe you’ll regret it, but so what?  You regretted trying to dye your hair ash blonde, too, but regret’s not going to kill you.  Maybe some guy will hurt you, oh, they tell you that all the time.  Don’t you dare meet up with a man you meet on the evil internet or he’ll rape and murder you.  Mostly, no, he won’t.  Mostly, the guys you meet will just be average guys who are horny or lonely or curious.  Mostly the guys you meet won’t be right for you, or you won’t be right for them.  So what?  If you want to get fucked, go out and get fucked.  It’s not the end of the world.  You can have no strings attached sex and the world won’t end.  You can go out and explicitly look for men to treat you like you’re worthless, and you can wake up the next morning with your self esteem intact. That’s allowed to happen.

Today i finally remembered, if you want to be a fucktoy, you have to go out and be a fucktoy. If you want to be dominated, you have to go out and meet dominants. If you want to play with feet, you have to go out and find feet. Whatever your kink is, you’ve got to go discover it. It’s not going to fall into your lap.  The next time some guy asks if you want to go back to his place, say yes.  The next time some guy wants to touch your boobs, let him.  Nothing will happen to you except for how you’ll have just gotten your boobs touched.  Encourage the men who get an intrigued spark in their eye and ask, “Um…how rough are you talking, exactly?”  You’re allowed to tell him, and you’re allowed to let him use you. And more importantly, you’re allowed to like it. Just do it.  Do what you want. Be what feels right for you. You have the right to explore.

xoxo

Harper

** this is taken off of my Fetlife profile, but is tamed down a bit for vanilla followers. To read the full version just visit my profile**

 

i’m captivated by you baby like a fireworks show

This is a story that i have been wanting to tell for a long long time. And i think it’s finally time that i share it.

How i met N. 

Oh my gosh. Well, let me just start this by saying that this will forever be my favorite story to ever tell anyone. ever. And that it’s magic and sunshine and total chance and that it makes me cry when i think about how lucky i got. But anyways, here we go. So, roughly 1 year ago today i was smoking pot in my roommates closet contemplating the big questions in life like pizza toppings and whether or not silver and gold jewelry can be worn together when she started showing me her tumblr feed. Thinking about it now, i am pretty sure she was looking to show me a joke about vodka and what it does to aid in dance skills, but that’s irrelevant. So, she’s showing me her feed and she scrolls past a picture of a rosy butt cheek getting spanked and i was literally like, “What the hell is this?” and she was like oh, that’s just some porn that i follow. Now, for you to understand why this was so significant to me, i must take this time to fill you in on the world in which i come from.

i grew up in a little bitty town in the middle of cornfields somewhere in the southern (i think) parts of PA. i was raised by my father and his wife and have one sister and two brothers, i am the oldest. My mom’s side of the family is mennonite and my fathers side of the family is just a mess. So when my father married his second wife, we all got to adopt her religion which means that i had the lucky fortune of growing up in a family that was filled with both abysmal roman catholics and constrictive old fashioned mennonites. i wasn’t allowed to wear make up, have a cell phone, hang out with boys, go to any birthday parties, stay up bast 8:30, or pretty much participate in life until i went to college. i used to hide a whole separate wardrobe in my locker at school so i could change outfits during homeroom. i didn’t have my first kiss until fall of my senior year and i didn’t have sex until my freshman year of college. i didn’t even know that there was a world were anything more than missionary sex in the dark after dinner existed. So, finding out that my best friend/roommate/fellow raised-mennonite rebel was following a porn blog literally blew my mind. And intrigued me.

Later that night, i remember making a tumblr for myself and i started following porn blogs specifically, under the ruse of curiosity. i felt so ashamed but also a little bit giddy, i kept telling myself that i “just wanted to see what she was looking at, i didn’t want to actually look at it for myself.” But before i knew it i was entranced in this whole new world of BDSM and i couldn’t look away. i no longer just wanted to see, i wanted to feel it and experience it and live it and know it. i immediately knew that i wanted it, for real life, not as a fantasy that sated me before bed. And there was one blog in particular that was my all time favorite; every time i looked at it i ended up playing with myself, longing to live a life that was depicted in the pictures. It took what felt like forever but was probably really just a week or two for me to get drunk enough to message the person who ran the blog. i kept typing messages out trying to introduce myself and then feeling stupid and deleting them, but finally i sent one and i am pretty positive it will go down in history as THE lamest and most unoriginal message to have ever been written by anyone. Ever. Butttt He replied, so i responded with another equally lame message back. And this happened for a long time. Him being all gentlemanly and polite and put together and charming with me being lame and horny and a totally awkward mess.

Our emails went on and on, back and forth, me asking questions and Him showing me more and more of wonderland. i spent my days feeling silly and skittish, jumping every time my phone alerted me that i got a message. i couldn’t explain it then and i can’t explain it now, but somehow my world quickly started centering around His replies and insights. i wanted to be a part of this world that He spoke of, the pictures He painted in His emails became a permanent fixture in my mind. He talked of scenes and parties and toys that made me equally parts embarrassed and turned on. my cheeks were constantly blushing and my cunt was constantly dripping. my days were a blur of tumbling and googling things that He mentioned or introduced to me. i wanted this so bad. i wanted a relationship that was built on so much vulnerability and trust and love, things that had been absent from any of my other relationships in life. Finally, f i n a l l y, He gave me His phone number and asked if we could talk on the phone. i remember getting off of work that night and literally hyperventilating on my way home because i was so nervous. He texted me saying He would call in 15 minutes and i aptly chugged 3/4 a bottle of wine while simultaneously jumping on my best friends bed screaming my head off. No chill was present. He called me and we talked and i fell in love. Immediately. i was overwhelmed and mesmerized and helplessly smitten. After that i can only explain the next few months by saying it literally felt like i had fallen down a rabbit hole. i was confused, and ecstatic, and overwhelmed, and shaken, and in awe, and excited….i felt every feeling with such extreme intensity it left me breathless. He introduced me to my mentor and i am telling you if it wasn’t for her i wouldn’t be here. N showed me a whole world that rebuffed everything i had ever known. my whole life started looking like a lie, it looked sad and pathetic and colorless. But His life, well His life was full of glitter and adventure and excitement and neon colors. In N’s world i had meaning, i had worth, life had a meaning that ran deeper than the lessons i had been taught.  We talked on the phone a few nights a week and continued emailing but i wanted more. And just when i thought i couldn’t want Him anymore, i met Him in person.

The first time i met N……i almost didn’t. i don’t even know where to find the words to explain my life that night. On my way to meet Him, i turned my car around 4 different times deciding once and for all that there’s no way He would ever like me and that i was just going to disappoint Him. i was on the phone with my mentor (slavegirlalex) and to be honest, i still don’t know how she talked me into following through with it, i honestly have no idea. But miracle of miracles, i finally got to the bar and parked and started walking in and my legs were shaking so bad that i literally collapsed. On the sidewalk. In front of lots of people, my knees just gave out completely. It was horrifying. i just couldn’t get it together, i wanted it so bad. i wanted Him and His life and His ideas, He was unlike anyone i had ever met before and i just wanted Him to like me so much. In order for you to understand how much this meant for me you need to know how much i dreamed about this. Growing up in a loveless home left me aching and dreaming about the idea of having someone like me enough to one day love me. All i have ever wanted in life is to be loved for who i am, and i was about to meet the one man that i wanted to love me for the rest of my life.  So i went in and i met Him and i did everything i could possibly think of to be impressive. i ordered a martini and i crossed my legs and i kept my back straight and i tried to use big words but all i could think about was everything that i wanted Him to do to me back at His room. We spent that weekend together and it was pure magic. i don’t know when it clicked for N that He wanted me in His life but for me it was that first night. If He had asked me to leave with Him that Monday morning i would have, without a second glance back. i was His; before He even decided if He wanted me, before He showed any interest in me being around after that weekend, before i think He even knew if He liked me, i was His. As corny as this sounds, it’s true. With N i see everything that i can be, everything that i never even let myself dream that i could be. He made me feel confident and powerful and sexy and like someone people might want. i was hooked.

Alas, He didn’t ask me to come home with Him that Monday morning so back to my boring home i went. And life went on. And our conversations got longer, and deeper, and the word future started to look like something that would maybe have His name in it, and i was out of my mind in love. And then it happened. i think it’s splendid that when we wake up in the morning we have no idea whether or not that day will be the best day of our lives, i think that it’s one of the greater gifts in this world. The day that N asked me to be His started out just like any other, but then, just like that, it became the single most important day in all of my life. i was sitting on my kitchen counter talking to Him about the frivolous things that run through my mind and He looked at me and gave me the most romantic speech to ever grace the ears of a girl in love. And the whole world stopped and i remember trying to be cool and adult like and keep my shit together but i couldn’t. i was sitting there crying and smiling all at the same time and it was a feeling of contentment that i had never known before. It was official. And my life changed forever. i was Owned. Me; simple, erratic, broken me, was Owned. i had spent my whole life being forgotten and pushed aside and over looked and being a back up option to people whose hands i had once placed all of my worth in. They had led me to believe that i was a burden, a mistake, a waste of time. That there was nothing in me worthy of love. i had grown to never even let myself imagine being loved, let alone having someone actively want me. But N did. N wanted me, He loved me, He chose me. N loves me. And that’s the secret to all of this. To how i can be so depraved and disgusting and deviant, because no matter how revulsive the sex act or how dark and deep into the hole i decide to crawl, i will be loved. And not loved despite this side of me, but loved because of this side of me. In this world, where i get to be my true self, i am loved. And cherished, and desired, and these are things that i never knew i would get to experience. And that’s the most enchanting truth i have ever known.

And right there where we stood was holy ground.

i went to the Museum of Fine Arts the other week and standing there, staring at beautiful works of art was inspiring and breathtaking and it made my fingers itch to write and to create and to leave a part of myself there. And so i wrote:

Laughter is coming from around the corner. A grandmother and her two grandchildren are poking fun at something on the wall. Wood panels on the floor whine under the feet of strangers, and i know someone is coming. i’m sitting on a worn, leather couch, listening to children ramble in the other room while a tour guide asks them what they think about a piece of art. There’s a couple a few paintings down from me; he’s spinning her, and her hair is a black cloud of something new and hopeful.
my mind jumps to you for the first time today. 

They call us “The Concretion,” the painting that hangs in front of me. “A solidified mass formed by the accumulation of matter… A fitting title for this rendering of hard-edged geometric shapes colliding into a mass of abstract form.” Did you know they hung us up and called us high art? 

Still, i study the history on the walls, and i do not think of you: i wonder who broke these artists’ hearts.
What wrecked them.
What made them want to scream and cry and laugh, and make people nod in understanding.
What tore their insides up and made them want to build something that children would study and couples would fall in love around.
The Great Depression.
The rise of technological innovation.
Their jobs and womanhood and people having to go on strike for their rights.

And as the floor whines under the weight of strangers passing by, i pray that this is what my life might be: this speaking about the things left unsaid, this heart hanging on walls as passerbys nod and think, “Look at this one, this heart that ached for things bigger than herself.”
Frame the words i’ve written about the things that unsettle my heart.
Hang the poetry about injustice.
Put it on display.
And i hope they fall down onto a leather couch in tears and wonder what it must have been like when i painted my story because the silence was more terrifying than never getting the boy back or moving into the house in that foreign state with that foreign man.
Give these words sharp sculpted edges and put them on pedestals in hallways; i hope that when the paint dries, crowds break into outrage. Let this be the kind of high art my hands make.

Even so, a part of me shrinks back and watches couples dancing a few paintings down, thinking about “Concretion,” and all the ways i could make our different pieces collide together so abstractly that they’d hang our story on a wall one day. And couples could dance around it.

Why do you gotta be so mean?

Recently i have been on the receiving end of a lot of criticism and judgement and just mean mean words and i’ve watched this person just tear apart everything about me and it was really painful for a long time until i was able to step away from everything and look at things. And i have come to realize that this person is being so mean because he’s so broken and hurt on the inside and i think that that is how this pain thing works, hurt people hurt people. And it’s so sad, it’s so so so tragic, and i want this cycle to end with me. i don’t want to the hurt in my heart to be the reason that someone else’s heart starts hurting.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.”

Oh how i wish that childhood chant was true. i want so much to take those words and go over them with every power tool i can find until they scream truth. i don’t know about you, but i can’t remember one time that i had a stick or a stone thrown at me and have it destroy me the way a careless thought or opinion did. For the life of me i cannot recall ever being told i wasn’t good enough and then walk away thinking, “those are just words, they don’t mean anything.” Words can turn into weapons if shot off the wrong tongue. They can crawl inside the deepest part of your heart and make a meal out of the insecurities that are festering inside.

i want to know when it became okay for people to judge and to criticize and to point their fingers and tear others down without a second thought. When did it become acceptable to turn people into outcasts, into rejects, into freaks? When did we, as a society, deem ourselves good enough and honorable enough to judge and convict our neighbors? Why are we so mean? When are we going to realize that none of it benefits us at all? Not. One. Little. Bit. We are not making this world a better place by categorizing the strangers we see on the street. We are not spreading love when we choose to judge and to hurt instead of to love and accept. How can we possibly expect to fix or heal anything if we’re spending our spare time and words to destroy? i don’t understand why anybody would choose to wound when healing is a choice. Society needs to realize that you don’t actually have the right to stand beside someone and tell them they’re not worth it. You don’t get to determine what does or does not make a person brave, or lovely, or worthy, or good. That’s not your calling.

i grew up in an environment where words were used recklessly and thoughtlessly, day in and day out. i lived in a home that was filled with criticism and judgment instead of adoration and approval. i have spent my whole life letting callous syllables keep me from living life and from loving myself. And just because i walked away and left doesn’t mean that those voices stopped haunting me. i had to fight to change the thoughts that would slink into my mind unsolicited every time i would even consider myself to have a degree of worth behind my name. It’s a relentless battle that makes a soul weary and hopeless. And even now, i have days that are so dark they scare me, and it takes a lot of love from N and a lot of reflection for me to get over these dark times and remember that my life isn’t like that anymore. i am not that person.

And i used to feel so sorry for myself and i used to go around and let my insecurities darken my life and the life of those around me. i have learned that there’s another outlet for the pain and confusion and hurt. You can use those words of destruction as guidelines and you can start healing those around you that have been broken apart by the choruses of hate. There’s too much negativity in this world for anybody to feel a need to add more. i don’t know about you, but i like the idea of everyone loving each other. Of us choosing to build up one another instead of rip each other to shreds. Words might have the ability to be a weapon but they can just as easily become the balm on the wounds that we have caused. And they can heal. We can use our words to spread faith and affection; it takes the same amount of effort. And i just think this is the most beautiful idea.

So today i wanted to take the time to break the chain and remind you that you, my darling, you are flawless. And you are worthy. You. Are. So. Worthy. And i am unbelievably sorry if nobody thought to pull you aside and remind you of your beauty. i’m sorry if society got to you and smothered out the light that is meant to shine from every fiber of your being. If nobody ever thought to remind you of everything that has been crammed inside that delightful heart of yours. i am sorry that nobody thought to seek you out and let you know that you are special just as you are. Just as you are. That sentence alone puts more worth behind your name than any other sentence i could ever try and type out with these desperate little fingers of mine. You are made exactly how you need to be to fulfill your purpose here on Earth. You don’t need to be thinner or prettier or stronger or funnier. You don’t need to be wearing the latest styles or have so much money that the whole world knows your name. You just need to be you, and you need to love without conditions or hesitations. And once we, as a society can learn that simple truth, then this world will finally finally be the place that it was always meant to be.

Okay, i am coming off my soapbox now

xoxo

Harper

And in the end in Wonderland we both went mad

Halloween was wonderful but it really gave me a lot to think about. As most of you know, i decided to go as the DC Comic Villain, Harley Quinn. In researching Harley and what she looks like i found myself becoming more and more intrigued with her and so i started studying her personality and her storyline more. And i am now more sure than ever that i want to model myself after her, i feel like i have found myself through studying her, which is kind of weird considering she’s a fictional character, but just hear me out.  i have come to a new realization these days and it’s started shaping how i am choosing to present myself to the world and how i am choosing to react to circumstances in my life. i am a lot like Harley Quinn, and i think that makes me really happy. Traits that we share are things that society has had me hiding and ashamed of but i now want them to shine. Harley is seen by some as crazy, evil, stupid, self destructive, even single minded and i would be lying if i said i haven’t been called all of these things at some point in my life. But i think she’s more complex than that; Harley is a character full of conflicting personalities and she deals with this ongoing identity crisis through obsession. Somehow she’s seen as a villain but i think, at her core, she’s a genuine and good person. Psycho for sure, but i think she is full of good intention and her heart is pure. She’s passionate, empowered, determined, and intriguing. She is a woman obsessed with life and freedom but doesn’t know how to achieve her idea of a fulfilled life. She forms these obsessions and clings to these objects or things to help her create a sense of self in her mind and uses that to define herself. Instead of allowing societal constraints and accepted norms dictate her action, Harley feels she is only free when she is allowed to do absolutely anything she wants.  And i think this is the root of what pushes her forward. And i think this is the root of what pushes me forward. Like Harley, i grew up in a chaotic household with a horrible man as a father, and like Harley, i struggle to find a life that makes sense of what i went through. And these character traits resonate on an extremely deep level with me.

Finding BDSM and N, i found something that i have since let define me and take me over. My obsession with Him is deeper and stronger than i could even begin to explain. It has been the reason behind every decision i have made in the past year, from quitting my stable job and moving out of a house i shared with my best friends, to leaving the only town and life i ever knew and now looking at plastic surgeons and partaking in gangbangs. i have shaped who i am and what my life looks like around N’s desires and preferences. He has become the focal point of my whole life. Just like Harley with the Joker, anything He says or suggests i willingly take to heart and try to make a reality (i am just really thankful that He doesn’t have a fetish for dead people). i have let my need for freedom and identity push me fast and solidly into the kink community in which i have found an escape i didn’t even know was possible. And while some may see that as reckless and single minded, i think it’s fearless and passionate. Everything Harley does, she does in extremes, without stopping to wonder if others will judge or hate her for what she’s done, and that is something that i aim to do wholeheartedly.

i am beyond fascinated with this idea of being so in love with someone that it makes you literally insane. i love the idea of doing everything in life in extremes. i find something so enthralling and romantic about giving up everything you are or you’ve known because the love that you have for someone is too strong to not to. That kind of love, that’s the kind of love that gives a life meaning i think. And maybe this goes into the whole brainwash/hypnosis fetish that i have, but i just feel like i am into it on another level. i mean i don’t want to need drugs or spirals or sparkly things to make me give it all up, i want my mad love to be enough. Harley Quinn gave up her psychology license, started killing people and committing crimes, and arguably gave up her sanity because she was so madly in love and obsessed with the Joker. And while most people see that and may think she needs help, i see it and think that there is nothing so beautiful in this world. That’s the kind of obsessed love i feel for N, the fierce loyalty that i have for His heart, and it’s something that i used to be embarrassed and ashamed of. But i don’t want to be, i want to revel in it and let it grow and get stronger. i want to be like Harley Quinn, i want to be so focused and obsessed with the object of my love and desire that He gets all the control without me even thinking about it. i have wanted this for a long time, but for some reason reading Harley Quinn’s story has given me the validation i needed to let go and accept that i have become obsessed with a darker kind of love, a powerful kind of love, and a love that has flooded my life with meaning. And that this obsession may seem unhealthy or make me seem unstable to the outside world but that i no longer care. i don’t care if people think i’m the weird one or the crazy one, or if i am left on the outside looking in. i don’t care if N ends up breaking my heart or changing His mind, i want to be defined by this obsession regardless. i want to be known as someone who, despite her upbringing and conditioning, allows herself to love someone so unconditionally and without barriers or walls that it changes lives. i want to be vulnerable and have my whole being in someone else’s hands, it gives me a rush that i find more addictive than any powered drug or liquid magic. And i am so so hooked.

xoxo,

Harper

i took your matches before fire could catch me so don’t look now, i’m shining like fireworks over your sad empty town

The other night Grey’s Anatomy premiered and that god forsaken show ruined me. i spent my evening fighting with demons that i thought i had conquered and gotten rid of. i spent the night battling and confronting and vying for victory against ghosts from my past. Ghosts of him. In the episode there was a patient who had tried to kill herself because her parents couldn’t accept that she was a lesbian and were going to send her away. As the show progressed the father realized what damage he had done and how all he really cares about is that his daughter is loved and is happy. The mother continued to abuse and bully everyone that tried to protect her daughter. And at the end of the show, the dad fought for her. He fought for his daughter. And because that is such a foreign concept, i just need to repeat it again. The father fought for his daughter. Because that’s what love is, fighting and protecting and standing up for each other. And dad’s are supposed to be the first shining knight that a little girl meets. And i don’t know about you, but that is just the most beautiful idea that i have ever entertained, that a little girl can be born into this world with a man who’s sole purpose is to protect her from all heartache and harm. But for me, my dad…he was the first villain i met. my first heartbreak. my first demon. But i forget that he was also my biggest teacher, my father with all his letdowns and disappointments, has taught me so much about life and love and fairytales.

What I learned about the world when he stopped loving me

i learned to finally let go of my Sanctuary. i learned that not all dads are hero’s when i was in the third grade, and by the time i was a sophomore in high school i started finding other boys to take my fathers place, putting down benches and hanging stained glass windows and calling them Sanctuary. And when that burned to the ground, i thought it would just get better if i took my pews and my stained glass and found somewhere else to put them. i ran from my house of hay to my house of twigs like a scared little pig, and convinced myself that they could stand. But my Sanctuary is not a place for pews or stained glass. my Sanctuary is filled with tears that have been pushed aside and neglected, ignored on the pretense of me being strong enough. It’s decorated with angry reds, blood red, the shades of red that cover my skin in goose bumps and sends chills down my spine. The shade of red that colors the memories of childhood. my Sanctuary is broken. It is glittered with broken glass, and hearts, and colored the red of lonely.

i learned how to live despite being broken . And there was a time when i swore that i would buy cheap plates from Walmart just so i could go out into the silence somewhere to hear their tiny, shattered pieces let out loud echoes that would validate the loneliness i so easily feel. Maybe part of me wanted to feel the control pulse through my hands and into my fingers as they slid off the plates as i threw them only when i was ready to throw them; to hear the loud clash of breaking glass only to feel the anger and the hurt and the insecurity break with them. Or maybe i needed to know that, if i so wanted to, i could go over and pick the pieces up just to put them back together; to see that all of the broken slivers still formed shapes that so perfectly complimented each other as to make a whole. i wanted to show myself that the broken parts of me had a chance of finding each other one day and making me whole. Whole. Such a deceiving and broken word. For years i wasn’t ready to start over and pretend that there weren’t pieces of us, of them left over. i wanted to take the broken pieces and make us whole, even in spite of ourselves. i wanted to rebuild my Sanctuary and i wanted to put him, put them, in the middle. To make my foundation full of family and forevers.

i learned the curves of the letters that make up the word frustrated because i cannot even begin to make him understand. Someone once said that if you fall in love with a writer, you can never die. All i know is that there’s already this burning in my chest to form words around him in order to trap him in this pain of mine just so that he can finally recognize the things i’ve been trying to say. And so much of me wants to clean up all of these words i’ve already bled out across this page, because i hate the thought of them being wasted. But i’ve also heard it said that we are all afraid to say the things worth saying. We’re all first in line when it comes to saying syllables coated in sugar and sweets but cower and hide when it comes time to spit out the secrets that hide deep down. The secrets that matter. We run when it comes time to talk about the disasters and those things that we cry about at night when our phone screens are black and our friends have gone home. And we say the dirty things like they mean nothing, when in that very moment they mean absolutely everything. But i want to be bold and i want to call him out, and i want him to know. He is not allowed to live in oblivion and bliss. Not when i am trudging through the tremors of his mistakes. i want him to know how he sucked at being a hero. How badly he failed me. And how everyday i was a second choice; how everyday i tried to better myself so that he would come back around, so that he would choose me. How often i tried to paint a picture with my words so that he knew how much it hurt, so that he wouldn’t look at my apparently empty hands and fading bruises and leave me to just “deal with it.”  But this isn’t about him, and it’s not about supposed to be and it is not about the demons that he built with his own hands and choices to leave me behind.

This is about what I learned about the world when he stopped loving me

i learned that not many things are worth turning yourself around and going back for, and i used to think myself included. But people are always worth stopping and going back for, even if you can barely see the parts of them that you used to love. Even when you can not recognize them because their features are covered with the disappointment of letdowns and heartache. Turn around anyways. Because one day you’ll be the one, standing on the corner full of regret wishing you hadn’t broken that heart that meant so much to you. Dying to go back in time and tell him that it was him all along and that you never meant to break him, you were just scared. One day you’ll be the one that did the breaking, that did the leaving, you’ll be the one you hate and you’ll be struggling to swallow your pride long enough to ask your loved ones to turn back around, to come back for you.

i used to spend my days awake but not living. And i did not think of god, or the aching in my stomach, or the beautiful creature laying next to me. No. i woke up every morning and thought, “Does he love me at all today? Is he thinking about me right now?” i would sink my head back into my pillow, dreading facing the day because the only certain thing i knew, the only fact that i could grasp sturdily in my trembling hands is that when the day was done and i would lay back down, i will have spent my whole day loving him. And i will have changed myself and shaped myself to be more like her, more like the girl that somehow has the privilege to dance in his palm and capture his heart. i will have wasted those miserable minutes ticking by worrying and wondering and wishing useless wishes. And tomorrow, well tomorrow would just be me playing in this same sad game of his, a game that he forgot he was even playing once upon a time, a game that i got lost in, trapped, speeding past go with out getting my $200, dizzy from my scrambling to find a way out.

But then things changed, and someone started loving me. Hard.

And since He started loving me i have learned about second chances. And i have learned about true love, the kind of love that isn’t in halves. A love that shows no partiality. i have learned that i am worth more than a love that loves me in halves. And i have been forced to slow down and pay attention and to see all the mini fairytales that have been sparkling in my life this whole time.  i learned how to laugh again and how to smile and i learned how to appreciate those glimmers of happiness. And i learned to live for the moments – to spend my days leaving one joy just to jump on to another. Moments that make me stop and that make my soul warm, warm like that old sweater that fits me like an old lovers hug. Like moments after the day dies down when I am wrapped in my favorite blanket, tucked inside of my favorite arms, feeling His heart and my heart beat together in our own version of a love song. And the world melts away and its Him and it’s me and it’s magic. Moments when i am piled on the couch in sweats with the people who have made a place for themselves in this hardened heart of mine and in that moment i know that i will never know a home like them ever again. And these moments, these beautiful and bright and magical moments, have started taking me over, and they live in the parts of me that used to be haunted and terrified and they have showed me that despite what i had been made to believe, i am not alone. i do not deserve to be alone. i have worth. And this world is such a charming and delightful place. And even though he does not love me anymore, i have found that love in other places and i have built a Sanctuary that i can finally find solitude in.

xoxo

Harper

This is the golden age of something good and right and real

i can’t believe i am about to type this, but it is fall…and i am in love! Never before in my life have i liked anything about fall, it always meant the end of sunshine and shorts and leaving your house barefoot and carefree. i love everything that summer signifies and always hated everything that fall represented: raking leaves, family parties (if you knew my family you’d understand), school, and my grandma’s disgusting pumpkin soup. But this year, this year it’s all different. i don’t know how to explain the change, but i can just feel it. The cooler weather has me feeling refreshed and renewed, like the next chapter in my life is about to begin and i just know that it is going to be my favorite chapter yet. The book of my life has been written by fear and anxiety all these years, but this chapter will be written with love and confidence. 

Since moving in with N my life has gotten significantly better. And not just because of all the love and romance that He brings into my life, but for selfish reasons too. Becoming a slave (or i would imagine becoming any part of a BDSM dynamic) really forces you to look deep inside of yourself to figure out what you want and what you need. And who you want to become. And not only are you forced into self discovery, but you’re given the freedom to revel and explore in what you discover. It’s this simple thing but so tragically rare; to be given the freedom to explore who you want to be. Growing up in such a religious and myopic community i was never given any sort of freedom and as a result i lacked confidence and maturity. i didn’t know how to be kind to the person that i was becoming because i was made to feel like such an outsider for becoming her. But the BDSM community, my little corner of it anyway, is filled with so much grace and acceptance and freedom that i am finally growing. And i think that’s what my summer was about; self discovery, acceptance, and grace. My summer was full of adventures both physically and metaphorically. i got to travel around the country and meet wonderful new people, and i also got to dig deep down in my heart and meet new sides of myself that i didn’t know were there. i have accepted the things about me that i do not like, and am working on changing these traits with patience and grace. i have discovered parts of my heart that i am proud of and in love with, and i am falling in love with that feeling. To let myself accept the love that, not only i have for who i am, but that others have for me as well.

And so, while summer was splendid, i can’t help but find excitement in what fall may be bringing. i imagine that it will be bold and bright and beautiful. i hope to learn how to be more outgoing and unabashed when meeting new people in the community. Of owning my kinks more fully and not letting myself find shame in them. i want my fall to be full of fireworks, of excitement, and of passion, and of unending enthusiasm. That’s what i really want. Explosions. i want something to shift and shake my atmosphere and turn my world upside down and cause me to be unable to sleep at night because i am “feeling all the feels.” i want fall to exhaust me. i want fall to be full of love, i want to love everyone i meet so hard that they remember me for that fact alone. You’ve been warned: i fully intend to love your face off. And i want to accept everyone’s love so that it can fill me and keep the fire in me glowing. i want fall to be a bright burning fire. i am learning that just because you’re afraid to be alone doesn’t give you reason enough to stop someone chasing your heart. So i am done stopping. And pausing. And second guessing. Fall is a season for clean plates and new Septembers, and fresh starts. For reprogramming yourself. i am diving, head first, into fall and all the adventures i can feel awaiting me. And i am so so excited!