All Posts

I didn’t experience his hands as hands. I experienced them as movement—like color being drawn through me. As if he were finger-painting just above my skin, and my body somehow knew how to follow the lines. Every slow pass left a trace I could still feel, the way light lingers behind your eyes after you close them.

A night of chaos, a girl I wanted, a man who held me tenderly, and the scandal that shaped how I learned to love women on my own terms.

don’t date to escape loneliness. I don’t date to fill gaps. I don’t date because something is missing. I date to grow — to let my heart stretch, to let my universe widen. That’s why I’m selective. My life is already a garden. My marriage is already a home. My erotic energy is something I steward for a living — tenderly, intentionally, never carelessly. So when someone asks me out, it has to matter.

Missing someone is the way my body honors connection — a soft, lingering tether that says you mattered here, even after the moment has passe

A reflection on heartbreak, self-worth, non-monogamy, and choosing yourself with intention.

A poetic reflection on love, longing, and the ache of visibility in open relationships. When freedom and attachment collide, what parts of us awaken?

Sometimes the hardest part of new love isn’t the waiting—it’s the wondering: will he still see me, even when the evidence of other lovers lives on my skin?

I didn’t leave love. I left the script. A personal story about romance, monogamy, and the rules that quietly break us

Kink feels like reverence. Swinging feels like hedonism. This is why I’ll always choose worship over the numbers game.

I see him everywhere. Not the whole of him — never that. Just flashes.

The moment it becomes a demand, I shut down entirely

Walking through a hotel lobby, I sometimes wonder: what story are strangers writing about me? Yoga teacher? Muse? Mistress? The real story is always stranger — and softer — than the projection.

Troy wasn’t just a fling, but a full-blown love affair—and the beginning of everything glittering, intoxicating, and unsustainable.

During the pandemic, I stumbled into sex work almost by accident. What began as word games and secret videos turned into suits, lingerie, dick ratings, and a whole new sense of freedom. In discovering OnlyFans, I didn’t just find an outlet—I found healing, power, and unexpected joy.

A reflection on the early agreements that shaped my relationship with Caleb — from flirty boundaries and the “time zone rule” to honoring autonomy and becoming lifelong travel partners. Not all who wander are lost.

Some people go to Disney World to meet a mascot. I went to Club Kink and met myself. By the end of the night, I wasn’t just watching the freedom around me — I was living it.

A deeply personal reflection on the sacred, erotic, and profoundly healing nature of Neo-Tantra sessions—where clients become lovers, energy becomes intimacy, and trust becomes transformation. This is not sex work. This is soul work.

David didn’t try to contain me. He didn’t shame my curiosity or shrink my wildness. He simply stayed curious—and in that safety, I discovered the kind of sex that unfolds through the soul, not just the body.

The magic of a kiss isn’t in the touch—it’s in the ache before it.

I didn’t choose him because I believed in forever—I chose him because he loved me deeply, and I felt safe. That was the first time I understood that intimacy could be a gift.