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Yes, love’s beautiful. And I loved how many people resonated with my take on love when I first posted it on my personal Facebook profile. But love is also messy.

I don’t just want to create a ‘picture perfect’, an ideal in my head. In the ideal there’s the humanness. The raw pain, fear, rage, anxiety, scarcity, mind fucks, stories. The hurt, heartbreak, frustration of falling for the man who’s unavailable, the patterns that repeat themselves. There’s the ‘questioning myself’, self-doubt, insecurities.

It’s ALL THERE. 🙏🏼

When I feel deeply, I feel that mess emerging again. The fear. Of not having enough time together. Of that moment when he ‘finds out’ that I’m just as human as anyone else. Of being too much (“I’ve had enough Michelle for now” – Yes, I’ve heard that phrase.). Of being ignored, unseen. Unimportant. 😔

I get triggered when I feel excluded. When I have no control. I might even feel a hint of jealousy, oh yeah. It’s there. Especially when I feel that time is limited. All of a sudden my primal brain reminds me that there isn’t enough. Time. Love. Him. Me. Us. 

And fuck you if you don’t decide to spend all those precious moments with me, because that way you reinforce my basic belief that I am not important. Enough.

Fuck you. 😡

The rage I feel. The betrayal. Fuck, I just wanna push you away. I wanna run. Stop. Me.

I can flip from being a liberated and independent woman to a girl who wants to anxiously hang on to what is.

I preach non-attachment. But I attach.

I preach freedom. But I want to be held in confinement – just for a little while longer.

I preach safety comes from within. And yet I will find ways to blame him for making me feel unsafe.

I preach openness. But I shut down and become passive-aggressive, because I don’t believe in my right to be angry.

I preach being in the moment. But I create stories too.

Monogamy doesn’t interest me. But please give me time to create more trust and context around ‘us’. And please, I wanna be the first to do it 😉.

I create rules. I confine. I limit.

And I ache. I cry. I feel.

I fear there’ll always be a reason for a man to not fully embrace me, because I’m too much to handle, too free and make men feel unsafe.

That’s the truth. 🔥 

What I desire is a truthful connection that includes all of this mess. I desire Presence. Equality. I long to be held and to hold. My heart wants to be loved and to love, bot of us knowing that we are love itself. I wish to carry each other with utmost care. I long for my feminine to meet the masculine in truth, which transcends gender and is part of our entire being. I wish to receive your vulnerability and brokenness like I give you mine. You fall, I pick you up. I fall, you pick me up. That’s true intimacy and togetherness. I also desire this while remaining truly autonomous, both of us. This all can only truly exist for me in a respectful, safe but free space. 🧡 

I long for a FUCK YEAH, instead of a ‘maybe’. I want my body and soul to be all-in. 

When I feel that fuck yeah, I know I’ll lose it. I have learned by now that everything is temporary. That’s the beauty of life… in the end, death kills all. 

I have learned that I can always get back to my own center. I have proven that I always choose what’s right for my soul, regardless of the heartache. I learn and heal with every loving connection I engage in… no matter how long or short. Gratitude overrides the pain of the mess. My annoying positivity brings back my smile, simply because I wear my pink glasses of love for everything around me.  

For me, living REBELICIOUSLY means to navigate life your own way, on your own terms, understanding you’re enough. Rebelicious means autonomous with a yummie AND raw, real twist. 😍 

I hope this gives you a little extra perspective on that theme that’s fascinated me for so long. 

Much love,