Out With The Sex. In With The Erotica | The C Diaries episode 4

This is my series about my Covid induced celibacy.
I m close to ending my celibacy at a practical level, but also, and more importantly, to discovering why I was struck by Covid and Aids induced phobias which affected my sex-life.

And how to fix it.

If I had one message, then what would it be? 
I often ask myself that question, because I have so many outlets and art forms.
LS Harteveld is a large part of it, but this is a pen name account.

I ve started calling it my workshop, a place where I shape my thoughts, much rather than sharing one message or outcome.

From writing in my LS Harteveld workshop for 14 years, has one message surfaced?
And I believe it has.

But I have come to understand that this message is first of all not as generic as I thought it was. It is a one size but it doesn’t fit all.

And secondly, that I got the message, not so much wrong or backwards, but that I had been using the wrong vocabulary and therefor it was constantly getting me in trouble because I was communicating something that it wasn’t.

The message that has been mine since I broke up my longterm relationship in 2006, and started writing, is an unaltered one:
Sex is important.
And you cannot mess with it, contain it, restrain it, deny it, or even chain it into what we call monogamy, without doing serious damage to it.
That second sentence was not part of the original thought, but it quickly became the appendix when I found how damaging 14 years of monogamy and 14 years of being part of two-some had been.
I was so unsuccessful when I started allowing new men in my life, that it took a whole year before my first kiss.
And I had never heard anybody speak about how monogamy brings you to sleep, in hibernation, and keeps you from developing yourself.

Just like you are eating on your own capital, when you don’t have an income, you start eating on your own erotic capital when you become monogamous.
You can start off as two healthy adults, and even create mutual erotic capital in the first months or years of being together (which makes it even harder to recognize what’s going on when it goes downhill later on);
And years later you are sexually deprived, erotically poor, and robbed of all confidence that was yours when you started.

No one had ever talked about it like that.
No one had ever warned me what the cost of monogamy, even the accidental you could almost say “natural” monogamy we had, would be once you come out of it and find your sexuality to be in a deplorable state.

So that is when the second sentence, about the costs of monogamy, was added to the first more inquisitive quest I set myself on, on wanting to find out who I was sexually, without my partner.
But because of those costs, discovering what I wanted sexually, and who I was, which originally had been my idea of what I would be doing when I was single, became Step 2.
I could not begin there.
First, I needed to setup the entire operation at ground level, much like when I was an early teen and started to fall in love with boys.
THAT’S why I lost an entire year before I got my first kiss.

If you had asked me then what my number one message was, it would have been that whatever you do, don’t become monogamous, because it eats away and destroys everything you hold dear about yourself.
And basically that’s still what I would tell you today.

So when I bypass the relationship aspect, the bigger theme, my real message is and always has been;
-> make sex the guiding principle of your life <-

Use it to indicate how well you are doing.
Use it to develop yourself.
Use it to heal yourself.
To heal another.
Use it to connect.
To identify yourself.
To comfort yourself and to comfort another.
To excite yourself, to excite another.

Use it for intrigue and mischief.
For betrayal and reconciliation.
For understanding and to make not understanding each other more palpable.

Use it to live with that which cannot be changed.

And when I say use I mean:

The formula being:
{ positive verb } + sex = a good thing

And yet I kept NOT getting my message across, and was constantly entangled in movements and lineages that had looked like my thing, but that were not my thing.

I followed teachers and therapists who appeared to have been knowing on this big fallout monogamy causes.
Only to then realize they were coming at it from an entirely different angle, and ended up with conclusions I did not support.

And I have been studying Tantric sex for couples (which is not what I believe is the real Tantric sex at all, but like all couples I looked at what we call Tantra for help) as early as the 90s.
Only to realize that I would probably not want to have Tantric sex even if it was with the movie star man of my dreams with whom I was granted a night of Tantric sex.
That even with new, exciting men I was in love with and everything was new, I would not be able to “get it up” for Tantric sex.

And problems started to arise on the other end as well.
I wrote erotic stories, but didn’t feel a connection to most of the people who read it, and they did feel a connection to me!
They had felt like I had taken them to bed, and all I wanted to scream was:
“I m pretty sure I didn’t!” 

I was asked to write an erotic story for a site that promoted long healthy sexual relationships for couples, only to then have my story banned when I had finally been able to frame having sex with your real partner in a way that was erotic.

I was asked to pose nude or in lingerie multiple times, because I would be portrayed as a writer of erotica.
To this day I don’t understand why a writer of erotica would be more willing to take her clothes off.

The confrontation with the world about my core message became so uncomfortable, not because I got push-back or angry people, but because I could not express myself in a way that reached the right people.
And looking back I think I abandoned my message.
I gave up.

I renamed this account a workshop, and starting January 1st, I m going all in under my real name.
With a message that is packaged in a way that most people will NOT be able to relate to.
And it is the most deliberate choice I ve ever made.

My message is wrapped in three layers of Bon Jovi, and no one but the die-est hardest of fans is going to find it there.

So what happened?
What is the reason, that after 14 years I only feel comfortable sharing my message either anonymously, under a penname and barely showing my face?
Or share it using the cover of a double-neck electric guitar.

The answer came this week when I realized what I had been struggling with, was the difference between erotica and sex.
For instance: Where I had thought the problem with monogamy was that it kept sex between two people, my real problem had been that it kept eroticism between two people.
And because eroticism (I think by default!) DIES between two people, the sex in longterm relationship becomes a shadow of what it once was.
The two people die their erotic deaths.

When I complained about your sex-life needing startup time after a longterm relationship, what I had actually meant was your erotic identity requiring to be brought back to life.

When I wrote the entire list of how to use sex, or the formula
{ positive verb } + sex = a good thing
The word sex should have spelled eroticism.

And even this series, the C. Diaries, about my Covid induced celibacy;
What died from Covid was not sex; it was eroticism.
And without eroticism, I can’t have sex.

That also explains why most other people CAN have sex during Covid;
Either their eroticism has not died, or they do not need, or no longer need, eroticism to have sex.
When your eroticism has died before Covid, Covid will not bring a fundamental change to your sex life.
And when your eroticism can stay alive, or perhaps even thrive, in times of Covid, your sex-life can be absolutely great.

So before I share what I know so far on how to restore my sexuality, in Covid times and all other times to come; 
I want to explain the key to eroticism, and why it dies when you throw Covid regulations at it.

That is because eroticism is a space where an alternate reality is created.
An alternate reality about who you are, who the other is, who you are together. 

Eroticism is something that exists in a plane that is unbothered by facts, and rich in mysticism, the forbidden and the hidden. 

Because the Covid pandemic is battled from the perspective of mechanistic, scientific thinking, a cure A will lead to result B kind of approach, something I will explain in a minute why that is true, but not for the reasons you think – 
the culture around fighting Covid is the opposite of the erotic plane.
And the mysticism, the forbidden and the hidden that is of course omnipresent especially in a culture battling Covid is deemed so threatening, that it is simply denied.
That taking part in the mysticism, the forbidden and the hidden, and even looking for the boundaries to where your individual freedom can be pushed, is demonized and frowned upon.

Why the mechanistic structure of Cure A or Plan B will lead to outcome C, DOES work, but for different reasons than you think:
When in 2008 the banks fell, and people who worked at the banks knew about the financial system being broken, a lot of people argued that the public should be informed earlier when things like this happened.
The public should know there is no solid basis to their financial system, and how fragile it is.
This awareness would have been fatal.
If in October 2008 the general public had known what the bankers knew who fled to safety buying guns because they thought a civil war was upon us;
A civil war WOULD have come upon us.
The only reason it didn’t is because the population, world wide, BELIEVED in the financial system.

Same with Covid regulations and their cure and the future of how this will unfold: It will go according to the road, the path, that most people BELIEVE to be the best. 
And that the rest of us find acceptable enough not to riot.
And that is exactly how it should be.
Because it is not about what is right or wrong, you must go the path that is supported by the majority of people.
If the majority gets a sense of safety from a certain set of regulations; It’s a Go.

And now we have come full circle.
Now it is clear why my message will never be for the majority, why eroticism will always be under threat, why my sex-life has suffered in the 80s during the aids era and why it is suffering now in the Covid era:
Because the majority needs a sense of safety, a sense that things are under control. Affirmed by practical actions they can do themselves.
We all know that condoms are not a 100% safe.
And we definitely know face masks are not a 100% safe.

The story that a simple behavioral adaptation can contain the threat of Covid,  aids, or the threat for being left by your partner and ending up alone,
is one that gives the majority of the population a sense of reassurance which is the glue that holds society together.

Eroticism is at the entire other end of the spectrum.
Where insecurities are played out, toyed with, teased with.
To create an erotic environment within Covid, you would have to accept our times like war times, when seeing your lover is dangerous.
Something that could get you killed, your loved ones too, something that is an act of rebellion and freedom, when everybody around you is in a state of panic, a constant numbing fear that is only just contained by regulations that provide a veneer of safety as long as we all comply.
You have to feel, and really soak in all that social pressure of cornering you until you behave like the majority of the people want you to.

And then meet your lover instead.
In secret.

That is eroticism.

An unexamined life is not worth living

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The Erotic Space | The Book Club final chapter

1983 Madonna by Steven Meisel

Before you get any boudoir like ideas about how erotic my current space actually looks, or how I look, I will tell you I am typing this from my desk which also contains five to ten notebooks, journals and diaries all of them in use, a teddy bear, also in use, a water bottle, a stack of laminated vision board cards (not as frequently consulted as I want to), hand-cream, three pencil cases, an inspirational photo of my 40th birthday and I remember being slightly disappointed because I did not think I had my ideal body, where I can see now a woman in killer shape.
And I m wearing a towel covering a coconut hair mask.
Right now; Not on my fortieth birthday where I had gorgeous blonde mane, which contained no grey hair not even underneath the dye.

I am writing you from a space where only the memory of size 8 times past, and the future vision of card decks to come are alive. You would be hard pressed to find anything erotic.
Yet as soon as I heard of the word or concept “erotic space”, I knew it was a key element in defining my art, my writing, my sexuality.
But also my yoga, the way I talk, how I teach or coach or perhaps the reason why I don’t teach or coach.
Erotic space, and the necessity of it in my life, can explain for all of my likes (erotic space present) and dislikes (erotic space absent).

And here behind my desk on a Tuesday in November, writing the final chapter for The Book Club, the erotic space is present.
It is in the freedom to put words to this day.
To mark it as special.
To have a plan for it, which is here right before me, and to then abandon it.
Instead of doing research for two areas of my art where I from now on want to get my fingers in on a daily basis, I am writing.

The erotic space, why it is so rare, why people forget to pay attention to it, or fail to put it high on their list of wants or – like I now know – their list of needs, is first and foremost;

Space in itself is already highly erotic, although in theory it can be taken up very rapidly by things not erotic at all.
But more on that later.

So space, is the basis of erotic space.

Having a date to have sex is not erotic space.
Having a date to be together and talk over the day, connect, see how the other is, is not erotic space.
Knowing you will buy a toy and unpack it together is not erotic space.
Writing a chapter knowing what the different elements will be is not erotic space.
Dedicating time to doing daily research of two areas of your art is not erotic space.

A long time ago I knew the ending for a book. I knew the theme, I knew the plot. It is the only book or topic I never did anything for.
Because there was no space, so there was no erotic space either.

Everything that is dedicated (to anything other than “let’s just see what happens”); Everything that is planned, plotted, and intended does not have space, and is therefor not erotic space.

I will start inserting the disclaimer that this is a personal experience;
To me, those things are cramped, confided, forced, dead, or fake.
And therefor I can’t do it.

Or I could, but I would never get the same “out of it” as others seem to get (I presume), and I have a low tolerance towards those activities.
It would come with a high cost of energy and will-power and probably a lot of recovery time, mental processing time and so on.
For me, the benefits of doing those things rarely outweigh their cost.

I will give you an example.
A wedding is planned out, and the outcome is fixed. There is no room for anybody to not have a good day, to not be at their best, and so on.
There is no erotic space in a wedding.
A regular party is also still reasonably fixed, although far less than a wedding. Therefor there could be erotic space at a regular party.
I presume erotic parties would have a lot of space to fill in the way you like, so they have erotic space.
But quite unexpectedly, and certainly a lot cheaper, I would say the most erotic space can be found with parties or get togethers which are not planned, or planned at very short notice.
There are no expectations, and anything rolls, giving spontaneous parties or gatherings the most erotic space of all.

You can extend this analogy to relationships, but also to your work, or to making art. You can extend it to how you raise your children, to how you meet your friends, but also to how you relate to your family.
In all of those areas, the more outcomes that are fixed?
The more mental-states, feelings, impulses, ideas, and stories are beforehand excluded.
The more it is dead.

Erotic space is therefor first and foremost an awareness, appreciation, and a deliberate creation of space.
A choice for the unknown, for infinite possibilities, for mysticism, for the untold.
I have called it the world between worlds.

It is from here that everything, and I would say “by nature of its sheer right of being there”, is erotic.
There are no longer boundaries, to anything.
There is only the being in this space, where automatically creation begins.

Creation of feelings.
Creation of experiences.
Creation of visions.
Creation of what we could call the “fine arts”, except they re not the fine arts, because that would be defining and binding it.

Sometimes you can bring something from this space, outside of it.
A painting, a book, a memory.
But way more often, the moment you have left the bubble of where it was created, the very thing you thought of bringing with you, dies.

Just like the love between two people can be very alive in their first months together when they have ignored their agendas, their earthly duties, and live inside this bubble;
But when they bring it outside and come out as a couple it dies.
The only way to bring it back, is to create the bubble:
And not by repeating the things you did, when you were in the bubble.

Doing the things people do, or which you did, when you were in the bubble, does not create the bubble, the space, the erotic space.

Writing daily does not bring you where the Called Ones are writing automatically every day because they can’t not.

Having sex every day does not bring you where the lovers go automatically and spend every waking minute exploring each others bodies and mind, laughing, making up games, creating their own vocabulary and nourish their own fresh memories from how they met.

Planning a party every week does not bring you where people just naturally flock together and someone gets a six-pack of beer, and another suggests pizzas, and a meetup at 4 P.M. turns into a bonfire and singing Irish songs together.

But creating space can bring you there.

Whether the space is then occupied with people needing to share their thoughts, the heavy energy of grief, discontent, despair.
Of lover’s quarreling over who’s fault it is the relationship doesn’t work.

Or whether that space is filled with eroticism, creation, lights, laughter, or all those things we all want it to be?

That is beyond our control, because you cannot stop the first, the what-you-don’t-wants, to whip and kick the latter into existence into your bubble.
You can’t will the eroticism into your space.

So all you have to do, but also all you can do, to be as often as possible in the erotic space;
Is to create as much space as possible.
In your work, your agenda, your friendships, and in the relationship with your lover.
Leave AS MUCH as you can open, by deleting everything that has a contracted, limiting, or even dead energy around it.
Let go.
And go.
And go.

And then just see what happens.

An unexamined life is not worth living


the Book Club: Demons and Daemons

You just read part 1, my column.

Today’s chapter below, is the final chapter from my novella Demons and Daemons .
Bringing an end to our time together, and this series.

The Book Club and the novella Demons and Daemons, will be published together, as “A Map Into Unknown”
The best way to stay in touch, and be informed when it’s ready, is to subscribe to this blog.
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Chapter 12, Untitled Notes from Lauren #11

COMMITTED (a happy ending)

day 20, Saturday August 1

I have a sign in the bathroom of my yoga studio.
Yes- I still have my yoga space.
Even though I ve retired as a yoga teacher and am no longer teaching friends either, because of Covid.
For the time being I m keeping it on as a space for my own private practice, and who knows I will really start connecting to it again, and feel that it is a part of me.
A place of power.
A place of history.
But right now, in summer (there were some issues with the heating, which makes it hard to look into the future and know if I ll keep it) I ll keep it.
It’s a nice and cool place to practice, so it’s ideal.
Today, the first of August, I studied the sign at the door of the toilet.
It has about 30+ meme like sentences.
And I decided to pick one every day, so it will be my private yoga theme for August.
The first one was:
“Find a passion and pursue it”
And I immediately thought about something I had read this morning, in a book on Vincent van Gogh.
That Vincent had struggled finding his place in life, and he would continue to do so (his brother supported him) BUT!
The moment he ceased his search to earn a living and become successful with another profession and commit to his art instead, a weight was lifted from his shoulders.
He started developing himself really quickly and his work would never have reached the height it did, if he had stayed stuck in trying to be something he wasn’t.
I have been less deliberate in choosing the path of a writer, and certainly not at age 27, because I wasn’t a writer then.
Although the professor who had supervised my thesis, had saved my emails and had printed them and gave them back to me when I got my diploma.
He had really enjoyed reading them, and wanted me to reread them some time.
Aside from diary writing and correspondence, I didn’t start writing until the year we broke up our long-term relationship.
We had been together for 14 years, and in 2006 it would strand and I would also start writing.
Just like my relationship had lasted 14 years, the existence or this work under my pen name LS Harteveld, also became difficult after 14 years.
This summer I have made some drastic changes one of them is that I write here under my real name Suzanne,
and that LS Harteveld (Lauren) is living in 1995 and writing offline.
This means (among other things) that I will never write online about my life, in particular my love life.
Online diary writing or erotic story writing has ended –
and with that LS Harteveld is now far less active/ current than it used to be.
In the end that was really all there was to it;
A shift from online writing to offline writing for LS Harteveld.
But I didn’t know that beforehand!
There have also been times when I thought this summer was the moment to stop writing for this account LS Harteveld entirely, and delete all the blogs.
It all worked out differently.
I m curating the blog, and I m also – almost automatically – writing for this account daily.
It costs me hours and hours, but it are stories that I really want to tell.
And I also write for my other account under my real name.
So I read this first sentence on the sign on my door:
Find a passion and pursue it.
I read how much good choosing for his art did for Vincent.
I have a daily practice of writing for two different accounts.
I am looking for a part-time job in manufacturing, or cleaning;
Something that has me up and walking, instead of sitting.
Something that doesn’t require any mental bandwidth.
But most of all;
Something that saves me from myself.
So that for like 24 hours or so a week, I DO NOT write.
I DO NOT think.
I do not drive myself mad, I do not “sit behind my typewriter and bleed” as Ernest Hemingway called it.
So this summer, for the very first time, I had consciously put all those building blocks in place, accepting the inevitable:
That I am a writer.
And yet; I had not committed.
And yet: I had not pursued.
I had treated Writing as some unwanted force in my life.
Like a life event or an all-consuming job that you didn’t voluntarily choose.
And for the first time I had designed my life around it.
My life was now crafted around the inevitable fact that I was a writer.
My PASSION, the thing I had automatically started doing when my partner and me split up, the thing that had taken the place of my partner immediately –
and even before we had decided to split, oh how symbolic-
that passion, Writing, had become:
The inevitable.
An all consuming and unwanted force.
An all-consuming job that I didn’t voluntarily choose.
The combination of the choice from Vincent van Gogh for his art, and the first sentence on that sign (Find your passion and pursue it) made me realize I wanted more for my writing, my purpose, my faithful companion since 2006, than to grudgingly be allowed to exist.
So from this day forward, till death do us part:
I CHOOSE you writing.
Muse that has come under different names and different shapes.
Muse that has always given me more ideas than I can possibly process or execute in this lifetime.
You are the bringer of plenty, that much is certain.
I choose you for better, for worse,
for richer or for poorer,
in sickness and in health,
to love and to cherish,
’til death do us part.
I do.

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About The Book Club

In The Book Club you can find:
– a post
– and one Chapter of my novella Demons and Daemons.

These Book Club posts will form a new book, “A Map Into Unknown”
Covering a journey of three weeks into darkness (Demons and Daemons)
and the rest of 2020, finding my way back to the light!


Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.

Nederlands blog:

The Sexual Alchemist

This is a letter to my creativity coach Sara
Before our call I always give her a headsup..

Dear Sara,
Yennefer in The Witcher

I found myself just not being okay with adding a picture of the real alchemist of the series The Witcher;
Which was “Giltine” played by the actor Julian Rhind-Tutt, who I know as Mr.Pimms from the first Lara Croft movie.

But Giltine played by the actor Julian Rhind-Tutt was the real alchemist, not Yennefer whose picture I used.
Giltine was the one who transformed all young witches into what they wanted to become.
In that respect, Yennefer was only the subject of the alchemy.
In exchange for her womb she went from having a dislocated spine and jaw, to being breathtakingly beautiful.
So if I really wanted to write about being an alchemist, I would have to illustrate this piece with Giltine, Julian Rhind-Tutt.
But I couldn’t do it, Googled Yennefer’s transformation instead, and then the memories came back.
Of who she really is.
Not just the most powerful mage from The Witcher series, but also the most sexual one.
Even when she was just starting out in magical school, she was sexually active, and very sexually independent.
She could really enjoy the physical benefits of it, and if my memory serves me correctly, she has two other lovers later on, one of them being The Witcher himself.
So although she had been transformed by a male alchemist, her being so rooted in her sexuality as well as being so powerful, does give me permission to use her photo.
And in fact, this aspect of her reminds me to start this story at the beginning, when I just like Yennefer felt disformed, out of shape, lonely, and yet I picked up this offer from the man I am corresponding with.
A man I call The Saint.
And he proposed a challenge where I would masturbate daily.
That is the short version, in reality it was a very detailed and well-thought through plan, that the average sex coach could have charged for.
Just like Yennefer said Yes to the beautiful man who wanted to be her first lover, without questioning it, I said Yes to The Saint without questioning it.
And the reason we did, is because we knew that regardless of the intentions of the other we had more to win than they did.
And more to lose if we didn’t.
We knew we would get something out of it, that went beyond what they were doing.
I took up the masturbation challenge, and went from a meager once a week, which is dangerously low for me – to killer orgasms on repeat.
It took a couple of days of muscling my way through it, but by then I had upleveled my orgasms to a strength that I have not experienced since I stopped the pill in my early thirties.
It was absolutely unbelievable.
And my creativity, in terms of writing, also shot through the roof as soon as I had said “Yes, I ll do it”. 
So those were already two big benefits, which I could tie directly to saying yes to the masturbation challenge from my anonymous letter writer.
Finding the photo of Yennefer and remembering how sexual she is, reminded me that a lot had happened before the moment that gave me insight in my identity as sexual alchemist.
That although the short-cut story:
“Oh I saw my ex and then this-and-this happened, lol, sexual alchemist right, duh?!”
would have made a good story in and of itself, provided it had been penned down in a less Beavis and Butthead way, that was not the whole story.
There was a reason meeting each other had been so great, and the reason was there had been sexual alchemy going on for days before he contacted me.
I committed to the challenge one week ago, on a Saturday night.
And next to my daily masturbation plan, which I had gotten from my anonymous friend, I picked up writing for this blog again.
I also did something else:

I decided this would be the week I would get over my lover, and start identifying as a single again.
Purge all that needed to be purged.

It had been 11 months since he had broken up with me. Last summer we tried to have sex again, but I paid for that with headaches and there were also other things I could just feel not being right about the whole thing.
Which had to do with something I have not written about, but I will, since I now know how essential it was.
He broke up with me in December after having been my lover for 5 years.
The reason for the breakup was something that was going on in his life, which required him to focus.

You could also say that guilt over having a mistress was simply becoming too straining, considering other circumstances.
But in the years prior to that, something else had happened and either I have not written anything about it, or it has been very minimal.
There have been opportunities for us to see each other for a longer period of time, one on one, without anybody mingling into our affairs or without any difficulties for him accounting for his time.
And he didn’t take it.
There has even been an opportunity for him to allow for a mistress, and privacy with regard to his sexual whereabouts, and again;
He didn’t take it.
So when he broke up with me in December 2019, or at least told me we could no longer have sex, he had already been sidelining our affair on numerous occasions, without me knowing.
Weeks or months afterwards, I could reconstruct that there had been giant opportunities for us to be together, or for him to create more space for us, and that he had not used it.
I was only allowed into his life, if seeing me could be contained.
And I didn’t write about it, because it was entirely irrelevant at the time.
He never told me, it were things I found out afterwards.

And I didn’t write about it after the break-up because then it was even more obsolete.
Even this summer, when despite Covid we were there together, and our bodies wanted each other more than anything, I didn’t write about it either, because by then I had almost forgotten about it really.
And the Covid stress and the migraines that followed all my indoor interaction, were already plenty to deal with.
Except now I see that Covid’s stress headaches didn’t have anything to do with me no longer wanting to be his lover this summer.
It was because he had not created more space for me, for us, all those times he had gotten the proverbial hall card, or the conference with the free days to wander around, or the chance to create space within his marriage.
Just like Yennefer who had been raised being told she was worth nothing, I too had started to believe, not so much that I was worth nothing, but that I meant nothing to him.
And yet this week, just like Yennefer, I rose.
To a place where I no longer depended on the love of others, and in my case that meant a place where for the first time since the breakup I fully identified as a single.
I could feel the power flow back into my hands, my fingers; As if something that had been shut off was coming back to life.
It was a week where I became so aware of all the power I had lost when I had started identifying as “a mistress”.
Not only became it the week I was over my lover, it also became the week where I felt my strength returning.
And I knew that even if we would start sleeping with each other, I would never call myself his mistress, or a mistress, again.
And then the unexpected happened.
And yes, I did pay for this by dropping off the wagon of blogging and writing.
I paid for it with headaches but they were far less intense than I expected, and after a day I was fine.
I saw him again.
This week.
In my radiant self-proclaimed so-over-you week.
He asked to see me, and the way he did it immediately had me worried.
I could just feel something was up. Something bad. But – like I always do – I “got over it”  before I went. 

I trained myself to be completely okay with whatever it was he was going to say.
I sensed it had something to do with another break-up, like a hard Brexit type of thing, where our affair had originally ended friendly.
Maybe he would sell the condo, or maybe there was another mistress.
I had really prepped myself to the point where I was able to take anything he wanted to say, in a neutral but supportive fashion.
But that was not at all what it was about.
It was the exact opposite.
The urgency and the seriousness had been because he wanted to know what was up with me.
Because all the cafes are closed, we met at his place. He made me coffee, and contrary to last time, no alcohol was involved at any point.
And he wanted to know everything. 
Why I had not wanted to have sex this summer.
What I did want.
How he could help me.
And when we had had the whole “Covid just sucks” headache story, it all came out.
For the first time I told him how much it had hurt that every time there had been an opportunity to give me more, and he had given me nothing.
I didn’t even cry or anything, we had a good laugh. And that was because I really was okay with him making his choices.
And then, when I thought we were definitely done talking about it, he asked: 
“Was there anything else last summer, that hurt you?”
And there was…
And I m not even going to repeat it here. In fact, I couldn’t even repeat what he had said. I had not remembered the words, just how they made me feel, and what I thought their general gist must have been.
I added: “I’m sorry, I don’t remember the exact words. That must be frustrating especially because I took them so badly.”
And he instructed me to immediately call him out if he ever said something like that again. Without hesitation, without sugar-coating, just blurt out: “Hey! That’s hurtful!”
And we had the best afternoon in years.
We stayed together for hours.
But what was the absolute best, was that I finally saw that what I create with my partners, with the real ones, is something that never dies.
And I say “I create”, but it is always a “we create”.
Every man in my life with whom I ever fell in love, is still in my heart.
They can all call me, or walk through the door, and they will always be welcome.
And with way more than half of them I would still have sex, I am still in love with them.
Most people, my lovers included, long for normal relationships. Structures that come with a certain set of agreements and predictable interactions that provide safety and stability.
But relationships can fail.
I said:
“I think we will always be in each other’s lives. And some of those times we will see each other, and have sex.
And other times when we won’t.”
An alchemist is someone who creates something higher, more noble, and more desirable, from materials that are readily available.
So what they can make out of life, with the same materials as the layman, is by definition of a higher quality.
But more importantly, and this is what I learned from my lover who was a changed man;
That an alchemist’s true magic, is always created with other seers.
Giltine transformed Yennefer, like he had done with all other young witches.
But unlike the other girls, she manipulated him into it because she had no legal right to be transformed.
And she refused sedation, she wanted to be present and in the moment, when it happened.

And by that, by her will of being there and her presence throughout the surgical procedure, she became more than all the others.
More than Giltine, Yennefer had changed herself.
To me the anonymous writer, The Saint, gave me a challenge. Which he had written out, in exactly the right tone of voice, and precisely the right mixture of dominant presence, playfulness and backing off leaving the ultimate choice up to me.
But I was the one who decided I would get over my lover this week.
And I was the one who used my creative fire and wrote every day.
More than The Saint, or the challenge he gave me, I transformed myself. 
I was there with my lover, for the first time since 2015 no longer seeing myself as a mistress.
My lover has become a new man, but I cannot take credit for that any more than Giltine should take credit for Yennefer.
Or any more than The Saint will take credit for my transformation.
In the end we are all responsible for ourselves, but in this lies an extremely heavy responsibility towards others.
Because if we don’t change, if we stick with the ground materials and the ground emotions of jealousy, doubt and pain;
So will others.
Yet if we elevate, transmute, rise, and become the immortal alchemist versions of ourselves, who transform everyday elements like relationships, like sexuality, like masturbation and like affairs, into the realm of the eternal;
So can others.
True alchemy is started by the alchemist, by the sorcerer, by the mage, by the anonymous writer or by the woman who was once your mistress and who has found back her strength.
You may say we need these special people in our lives for magic.
And at the same time they are of no importance;
Because all alchemy comes from within.


An unexamined life is not worth living


My diaries are available at LULU
New books will be added.

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Serendipity | The Book Club final week

click on the photo for the book

This week I’m starting a new life, as a White Tigress;
A solitary single woman with an amazing sex life, radiant health, and rock solid independence.
Here’s the book that dropped on my doormat today.

If there is one thing, that never ceases to fascinate me, it is giving up control.
Stop messing with it.
Stop overthinking it.
Abandon your plan, and anything you think you should be doing for a certain outcome, and instead do nothing and see what happens.
Let go of the steering wheel of Life, even if it’s while promising yourself you’re allowed to grab it, within a week, a day, a minute;
But get a sense of what “it” does, if you are not doing anything.

What are the powers in play here?
What happens when do not grasp or intervene?

One place where in retrospect I did not plan anything, is this book.
It is called A Map Into Unknown, and it consists of:
– the Facebook novella Demons and Daemons
You can find one chapter at the bottom of this post, including a link to the entire novella. The novella is a diary which was written in three weeks in July and early August.
– these chapters from The Book Club
These go on top of the original chapters.

So A Map Into Unknown started in July with single posts on Facebook, then after three weeks I bundled them up to a novella Demons and Daemons;
Then I started going over the chapters one by one in The Book Club project.
And then I decided I would call these two books together, or book within a book;
A Map Into Unknown.

Only to then drop it, leave it untouched for months, and pick it up when a man I don’t know invited me to a seven day masturbation challenge, and I realized this book still had 7 to 8 open chapters.

Resulting in these “The Final Week” Chapters, that you’re currently reading.

This Sunday I will have written my most layered book, by doing nothing.
I had no idea where it was going.

In fact, I was so in the dark, that just two days ago I didn’t even know if I was going through with publishing the end result. 
If it would ever “be” something. And that was fine.
I was too curious to see what would come out of it, even if it could not be published or did not have an ending or something.

But now?
When on more or less “day 1” of what I have been calling my new White Tigress life, I receive a copy of my first English book around the White Tigress, and love it?
Now I realize you really cannot, and should not, plan.
I ordered this book two weeks ago when I had no plans to start identifying as a White Tigress again, nor did I plan on using these yoga exercises.
To be getting the book White Tigress out, was a business decision, or artistic decision. It was not because I wanted to read the book myself.

My yoga practice at the moment is entirely different and I don’t use schedules.

But I picked up this book.
And not only was it glossy, and beautiful, and exactly right, so I could open the link for distribution.
But I loved the exercises!

My two White Tigress posts from the last two days, about yoga, and becoming a White Tigress, have inspired me.
So I did practice yoga with the book today.
Exercises I have developed in the 15+ years I taught yoga professionally.

It is like a legacy of a woman I no longer am, physically.
It is her message, or gift, from my past self to the current day writer me, who oftentimes struggles to do yoga in combination with her desk work.

And I realized that not only did the yoga book White Tigress arrive at exactly the right time, but also that A Map Into Unknown came together exactly as it should be.
This complex journal from July to November 2020, will be one of the many books I will bring to print in 2020; but a very recent and unexpected one!

After 2020 I expect to keep writing as LS Harteveld, but I won’t be harvesting or publishing any work, any time soon.
I foresee I won’t be publishing for a minimum of three years, m
aybe longer.

So not only did I receive my White Tigress yoga book, which has been in the making and under construction for more than four years, on the day my new life as a White Tigress begins;
With Demons and Daemons/The Book Club, falling together in my 2020 diary A Map Into Unknown, I have also received an unexpected final book.

The closing book of my upcoming 2020 collection, and final book for an indefinite period of time, will be called “A Map Into Unknown”.

You cannot make that up, even if you tried.

An unexamined life is not worth living


the Book Club: Demons and Daemons

You just read part 1, my column.

Today’s chapter below, from Demons and Daemons, is one that is about entrepreneurship in Covid times.
It’s from July but if feels ages ago I was called to speak why I quit teaching, or why I quit my business

This is what I wrote:

Chapter 12, Untitled Notes from Lauren #11

The Right Side Up

day 18, Wednesday July 30

warm moment when the right side was up, in Stranger Things
I was contacted with regard to wanting to talk about my yoga business..
I think it was the same show that contacted me in December.
Although right then I still saw myself as a yoga teacher (a writing one and not one teaching classes. I only taught to friends, until Covid came and I stopped doing that too), I declined then.
And I declined now.
The reason they asked me now, was accurate;
They were looking for entrepreneurs who had quit their business.
It was done with the Chamber of Commerce, so this indicated to me that we were supposed to be giving some advice on how to run your business.
Like: How can you prevent you have to stop, kind of thing.
The reason I declined to give an interview, was that I had no uplifting words for newborn entrepreneurs.
My advice would have been:
“Run! Run! Flee while you can!!”
And I answered with a detailed explanation of why I would strongly advise against starting a business, before you have at least a €25.000 a year hustle going.
Work as an independent seller.
A civilian.
Let people pay you without VAT.
And we have a special tax box in The Netherlands for “Other income”; Just put it there.
Or ask to be put on the payroll, or paid through a payroll agency.
Don’t do anything illegal.
I m not telling you to dodge taxes or anything, just whatever you do?
After I had clicked send in the Facebook chat, I realized I had failed to make one more final argument;
“Oh, and with Covid you’re the gofer for our government. You’re supposed to be collecting health statuses from your clients, when in 2018 you were obliged to draw up a detailed company privacy statement because you occasionally saw some name-address-city data.”
Big go f yourself, Dutch government.
Go find someone else to do your henchmen work, because at some point Dutch entrepreneurs are simply going to decide to go underground, work a payroll job, or will simply refuse to lift another finger because they re not interested in continuously being bullied into submitting themselves to ever more legislation, depending on what agenda it is now you want to push.
I ve seen yoga teachers who made less than a thousand euros a year, yet they still had to register at Chamber of Commerce, register for a VAT number, keep a VAT administration, a business administration, get professional liability insurance.
Trust me, until you’ve got €25.000 in sales, there is no reason you would want to invest in being a proper business.
So the question on if I wanted to cooperate with a tv program on entrepreneurs who had quit their business, basically unlocked the doors to my internal hell.
If I had wanted to speak kind words, I would not have known where to find them.
“My vision on this is so dark, I don’t think that’s what you’re looking for,” I ended my message.
I knew I had 20 years of bottled up anger and resentment to this over-legislation, especially with Anglo Saxon countries coming with ever more books like The Side Hustle, The 4 Hour workweek (in the Netherlands just doing your admin and drawing up all your legal papers would take you 4 hours a week!)-
Yet I had no idea it was this close to the surface.
That one question was enough to trigger me in saying so many bad things.
I felt it was a bit like the Upside Down;
A parallel universe in the series Stranger Things.
All the landmarks, buildings and so on are the same as in our universe, but there are no people just monsters like in Alien.
It is always dark.
And everything is covered in slime.
In season 1 of Stranger Things, a girl who has been used for medical experiments, El, is the only one who is strong enough to fight the creatures who live there, because she has superpowers.
This shadow world The Upside Down has portals into the normal world, but the main characteristic is:
It IS the normal world.
It is the normal world, when all of our nightmares have come true, and we’re cold all alone hiding under a damp blanket in the middle of the dark forest.
Already when watching this series, I started wondering:
“If there is a dark Upside Down world;
Would there not also be a parallel universe of light?”
And today I expanded on that question:
“If there is a topic that gets me so vile and nasty and unforgiving, in a flash of a second;
Is there a topic that gets me in the best of spirits?”
I realized, that yes, there is. There are.
But just like in the series;
The dark sticks to you so much more.
Once the cold has set into your bones, it seems impossible to get rid of.
Once you’ve seen the darkness, it becomes increasingly impossible to see the light.
To see the good.
Even just for a second.
The Right Side Up world, as I will call it, becomes a place of fiction and myth.
Whereas The Upside Down world of darkness and despair, seems ever more real.
It took El’s superpowers to cast the beast back into the shadow world, and to close the portal.
And even she was sucked into that world, as a result of her brave action.
No one thought to go look for her afterwards, or rescue her there.
And meanwhile everybody else had their Season 1 Happily Ever After.
On payroll, I presume.

Chapter 13 of Demons and Daemons,
will be shared soon,
in a new episode of The Book Club

Subscribe to the blog or follow social media:
Facebook page LS Harteveld
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSHarteveld

About The Book Club

In The Book Club you can find:
– a post
– and one Chapter of my novella Demons and Daemons.

These Book Club posts will form a new book, “A Map Into Unknown”
Covering a journey of three weeks into darkness (Demons and Daemons)
and the rest of 2020, finding my way back to the light!


Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.

Nederlands blog:

Become a White Tigress: 3 Habits To Start Today | The Book Club final week

This week I’m starting a new life, as a White Tigress;
A solitary single woman with an amazing sex life, radiant health, and rock solid independence.
Here’s how to become one.

This is not a post, where I can show you flashy before and after pictures. Or I could but then the “before” pictures would be from ten years ago, when I DID take before pictures, and weighed 15 kilos lighter than today (those were “before” pictures!), and I would caption them with;
“With all do respect but what were you thinking, Lauren2010?”  
With your tiny hot pants jeans, good Lord, you look amazing woman.

Those before pictures, I could provide.

And I COULD use them to illustrate what a fabulous body you get from teaching 12 yoga classes a week, and very consistently skipping your home yoga practice.
“How do you know you didn’t do yoga at home, Lauren?” you might ask.
Well, I know so, because there ARE before pictures. Meaning I saw an opportunity to tone, shape, burn fat, otherwise I would not have done that.
And since I don’t do dieting, in fact I think losing weight while on a diet is “cheating”, or at least extremely unwise since the only truly desirable body is one with a digestive fire that could burn anything you could possible eat;
I know the aim of my challenge in 2010 could only have been to tone up using yoga.

I think diets are a sign something in your life went very wrong.
In the Netherlands, for a very long time, the word diet was reserved for people who were sick and weak.
I grew up in that time, and that definition not just stuck, but I’m convinced to this day, where the word diet is used by everyone even in the Netherlands, that the Dutch 80s way of seeing a diet, was actually the healthier one.
It certainly fits with my idea of what a strong healthy body looks and feels like;
It’s where you are physically very active, and eat anything you want. And in any amount you want.

That’s how I know Miss Hotpants 2010 was not planning on going on a diet, and saw a very easy and desirable way to shape up, and it was yoga.
As in self-practice yoga, not teaching yoga.
Practicing yoga is something every yoga teacher is basically taught to do, when taking his or her training, so it wasn’t something out of the ordinary.

Miss Hotpants 2010, who was 60 kilos by the looks of it, but from the fact she wanted to shape up it was probably 63 – was going to do so by doing her home yoga practice next to teaching 12 classes a week.
Classes she was going to on her bicycle, counting for about 14 twenty minute bicycle rides, per week.

My shape in those pictures was the result of physical exercise being an integral part to my life, by teaching yoga and commuting.
Not by diet, not by going to the gym, not by home yoga.

Fast forward ten years: I no longer teach yoga, at least not group classes. And the writing which I have been doing since 2006, has taken over my life.
Although I have many art forms (LS Harteveld, is a pen name and my writing-only acccount) and I make an effort to nurture speaking over writing, of teaching over writing, of live streaming over writing, of drawing over writing, of photographing over writing;
I am a writer.
I know that.
I also know that if I have ANY advice, like one step you should definitely not be taking if you want to become a White Tigress, or any other role model physique or lifestyle you might aspire to, it is this;
One step.
The single most important thing you can do for your health.
Even if you do not do any of the other 3 steps, if you manage to avoid the following, it will probably already save you from 10 extra kilos, clogged arteries and early death.




Gaming, digital crafting, social media on your phone or at your desk;
Any activity where you’re using a screen and are actively involved (but some say passive screen time like Netflix is equally bad for you) is piling up the pounds and swinging the door wide open for aging-effects.
“Please take me with you! Oh father time!” as you open another blog post. 

Every time I hear people have a writer’s block I want to yell:
“Keep it! Don’t change a thing! Go out and get some fresh air!”

So if that’s you, you can just stop reading, because stopping writing, or keeping yourself from writing, gaming, working online and so on, for the upcoming decade, will absolutely be the best thing you can do for your health.

Problem is of course:
Most of us can’t.

Some are called, like me, and they cannot stop writing. It would be like stopping breathing. 
And others are dependent on their work, their desk-time, to make them money. So they too, do not have the option of not being behind their screens and sitting on their butts.
This is our life.

I was a yoga teacher in 2010, but I am not that person anymore.
I do not teach yoga anymore.
And I AM called to write, so I can’t stop writing.

That’s when these 3 Steps come in.

One day I hope to write a guide, in English, about the sexual philosophy of the White Tigress as well.
But that is at least partially superfluous because the original book is already written, and fortunately still in print:

book: original White Tigress by Hsi Lai
(if you’re a man, Google for Hsi Lai and Jade Dragon)
But what I hope to one day do, is write a modern day lifestyle guide for single women in the Western world. 

I have written a little Dutch guide, Witte Tijgerin, in 2017, so maybe I’ll translate that.

But for now I’m focusing on the basics of getting in better health, and the specifics of a White Tigress sex life, will have to wait.
But I will include what I can, today, in step 4


Become a White Tigress:
3 Habits To Start Today


Habit 1 from 3: self-care & honor your sexuality

Honoring your sexuality means that you start owning it, and living into it. Regardless if there will be lovers, or partners in the future.
Groom yourself, love yourself, prepare yourself, as if every day is Lover’s Day, and you’re living in the land of plenty.
Next to that; masturbate.
Orgasms male and female have different effects, therefor it is only advised for women.
Masturbate daily, and don’t use anything inside of your vagina. Just the outside.

Habit 2 from 3: get daylight and exercise outside

Doesn’t really need an explanation.
I would say 40 minutes daily is minimum, but the more the merrier.

Habit 3 from 3: Do yoga 

I’m working on a yoga guide, which should be available before the end of the year. But any yoga will do.
If you’re new to yoga, you can check out Yoga With Adriene on YouTube, who has 20-30 minute videos.
YouTube Channel Yoga With Adriene
And if you’re an experienced yogi, just do it any way that feels good for you and you can practice longer if you like.

Whether with a yoga teacher, a schedule, or putting on some music (f.e. one album, or a 60 minute playlist) and letting your body move freely;
It is really about doing yoga in a way that feels good to you.

Bonus habit: raise your sexual energy

There is so much to say about how sexually being with a man, contributes to your health.
And for the physical aspects, you should be reading the guide I mentioned before:

book: original White Tigress by Hsi Lai
(and again, if you’re a man, Google for Hsi Lai and Jade Dragon)

But even without knowing the ins and outs, on an esotheric plane, the most important take-away, and difference between normal dating and a White Tigress style of being with men, is that you do it to get excited and feel more alive in the moment.
Dating or sex, is not something you do to one day lead you to the altar, or any future outcome: The only thing relevant is how it makes you feel right now.

Whether you’re corresponding, Whatsapping, seeing each other in real life, or sharing the bed, moment to moment elevate yourself, elevate the other;
Let the vibration of being together be one of lightness, fun and joy.

The sun is setting.
I did not go outside for a walk, and I wrote instead. 

Even though I will go outside for a night time walk in a moment, today will be the first day in weeks perhaps even months, when I didn’t see daylight. 

Which proves my point;
Whatever you do, don’t write.

An unexamined life is not worth living


the Book Club: Demons and Daemons

You just read part 1, my column.

Today’s chapter below, from Demons and Daemons, is so much fun!
And a great addition to what I wrote above.
It gives you an idea of how to implement the three habits, depending on what type of person you are.

This is what I wrote:

Chapter 11, Untitled Notes from Lauren #10

The Pleasure Dome

day 17, Wednesday July 29

I think I should know better by now, but still the thought that the answer to every question in my life, can be found in having some kind of daily routine in what I do,
keeps having a tremendous appeal on me.
I mean just think;
If I become a writer who writes every day,
shows up for her art,
and also creates her books – which is more a back office endeavor, and one that requires a tremendous amount of ass sitting hours while at the same time generating an infinite amount of self-doubt.
Also manages her finances like a grownup.
Goes out every once in a while, has a place in the real world too, I m mean you know-
to be more than “just” an online writer!
Be someone that people can talk to, and you know what to say back and they think you re a normal person instead of a purpose driven mad woman who gets up every day haunted by a story that needs to be written and trying to put it off as long as she can, because she figures The Grown Up Stuff needs to be done first.
So let’s imagine I would finally become such a person, and generate the results such a person has!
Grown-up, sensible writers have grown-up sensible results.
Would I then feel accomplished?
I think this was a rhetorical question, I think the real question would be:
Would I then still be able to look myself in the eye?
Is there even a micro chance that I would not feel like an entire fluke, an impostor, a woman who had a calling and who then threw it all away for financial security?
Of course not.
Because it’s not about being organized, or about embracing the chaos.
Success, purpose, a life well lived;
None of those things are related to doing this or that.
It is all only related to who YOU are.
If you thrive on chaos, so will your finances.
If you drive on order, so will your purpose.
(your purpose will probably tempt you to create a 12 step plan for it, if you are a person who loves order)
Your life will not be fully lived, and “results” (esp. the vague ones like feeling accomplished and one with God and everything) will never come,
unless what you do is 100% aligned with who you are.
Realizing this I have been wondering-
then who AM I?
What characteristic, if it’s not being grown-up, if it’s not being organized, if it’s not creating 12 step programs let alone following them, and if it is definitely not being some writer-block suffering author who hopes the muses will visit one day, but instead of that I m more like a demon possessed crazy creator-
But what is THE characteristic, that I AM?
And I decided that was pleasure.
If there is a characteristic that will get me “there”, something that will make me feel like the day, the month, the year and the life was lived well;
It’s knowing I always went for what I desired, probably at first sight.
My mouth watered.
My eyes sparkled.
My heart opened.
Damn, who knows, maybe even my loins set on fire.
But that I reached out, and connected with it.
In the series Lucifer there is a female demon Maze.
Just like Lucifer himself, she is blessed with a strong appetite for sex, in any way, shape or form but she prefers the leather type ones. 
Her unapologeticness about it is refreshing.
As is the thought to just – as an experiment maybe? – to fully be as you are, and do life as you are;
And see what happens.

Chapter 13 of Demons and Daemons,
will be shared soon,
in a new episode of The Book Club

Subscribe to the blog or follow social media:
Facebook page LS Harteveld
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSHarteveld

About The Book Club

In The Book Club you can find:
– a post
– and one Chapter of my novella Demons and Daemons.

These Book Club posts will form a new book, “A Map Into Unknown”
Covering a journey of three weeks into darkness (Demons and Daemons)
and the rest of 2020, finding my way back to the light!


Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.

Nederlands blog:

The White Tigress Returns | The Book Club final week

I’m writing 7 blogposts, on 7 consecutive days, to get over my lover and also start my life anew.
This is one of them.

In 2017 I published a little Dutch guide, Witte Tijgerin, about how to rock at being a single woman and be confident in your life choice to live solitary.

Even choosing the word solitary was of course a radical statement there.
It immediately illustrates how much we think in couples.
And how being single, largely unconsciously, is still being viewed, as well as experienced, as only being half of something that doesn’t exist.
As if you’re waiting to be complete.
But saying “I am solitary” is not waiting to be complete.

Despite being so small, the tiny guide was really good, and I knew it. Yet I also knew I would not be able to bring it to the market, promote it, and the English translation stranded.
Because I no longer felt a White Tigress myself.

I was having an affair, I was a mistress.
The book would just have to speak for itself, because I no longer represented what it stood for.
Until now.

We no longer have an affair, and did try to pick it up because we still like each other. And I m as crazy about him as I have been all those years.
And yet, we just can’t get back together.
And from my side, I suspect it’s because the mistress coat doesn’t fit anymore.

Just like when I broke up my long-term relationship, in 2006, it isn’t until later, that I understood what was bothering me.
Why a hunch, that it’s not working, cannot be understood until months or even years have passed.
Yesterday, in the post I wrote about not liking doggy style sex, I realized that we had lost the intimacy of our first years.
Initially, I had favorably written it off as our relationship not being as “experimental”, but yesterday I realized it was way more than that.
Our intimacy had been on the decline for years.
Doggy style sex, to me, stood for sex with a porn-like distance.
When I, and in all likeliness we, wanted so much more.

So just like three years ago when I published a Dutch guide for single women, just at the moment I no longer saw myself as such;
I am now working on publishing books on mistresshood, thinking:
“But I’m no longer a mistress!”

I can FEEL being a White Tigress, without having a sex life, because the White Tigress lifestyle entails so much more than just sex
you can read all about the original White Tigress in this book by Hsi Lai
but I do not feel myself a mistress, without being a mistress.

In theory, I view being a mistress as a sexual identity. Comparable to being gay. The chances that I will ever fall for a man who is single are close to zero.
As are the chances that I will fall for a man who will break off his marriage in a dramatic gesture that he had chosen the “wrong” woman, and has now found true love with me.

Chances that I ll get a new affair, with someone who also sees other women or another woman, are very high.
That is why I view being a mistress as a sexual identity, a preference. It is not chance or luck, or a bad choice in men, that makes a true mistress a mistress.
She is coded to prefer sex and love being served in that particular way;
With her being the other woman, in love with a taken man.
And him being in love, and finding something which he can’t or doesn’t allow himself to feel, within a more traditional relationship.

I still stand by all of that.
Yet at the same time, a solitary mistress? I don’t feel that. 
The moment I am single I immediately see the chances of falling for a single guy, or a taken guy, as equal.
All bets are off.
I m definitely not willing to “cast” or look for, a partner who is already in a relationship.

I start over and I start anew.

And I find myself going back to the little guide I wrote, three years ago. And I have pulled out my Hsi Lai books, The Sexual Teachings Of The White Tigress, and White Tigress, Green Dragon.
I find myself dipping my toes in the waters of the familiar territory of the White Tigress. And it’s like a warm bath. 
Regardless of what the future brings;
I am home.

And since I am now officially solitary again, I have the whole bath to myself..

An unexamined life is not worth living

relevant to this post:
1. a little Dutch guide, Witte Tijgerin
Big, diaries and erotica, about my first two years as a mistress


the Book Club: Demons and Daemons

You just read part 1, my column.

Today’s chapter below, from Demons and Daemons, is an absolute gem!
And it clearly states I already gave myself two lovers last summer.
I had almost forgotten about them 😉

This is what I wrote:

Chapter 11, Untitled Notes from Lauren #10

About the Boys

day 16, Tuesday July 28

For the past 14 years I ve done everything I could to discover, shape, and even perfect, my love and sex life.
Some things worked out, some didn’t, but in the end it was the same reasoning I have when it comes to having children, that snapped me out of it.
It’s a question I used whenever I thought about wanting children and leaned towards:
“Well, you know with the right man.”
“You never know.”
“It would be incredibly cute.”
“I love babies.”
I counterbalanced it with:
“But if you would have to choose between having a child or have all that care, effort, blood, sweat and tears, all that time and money available for something else.
Then which one would you choose?”
My eyes would start spinning and produce hearts like one of those cartoon characters.
ALL that time, money, and single mindedness available for something else?
Omg, omg, that is like being allowed to eat all the candy you want without damaging your teeth or your health.
A question like, if you would be a millionaire and money was unlimited, what would you do?
Imagining that future without children was always the more appealing option.
Now, I have to admit, that I do not recommend making your choices this way. It worked for me, because I had already decided I didn’t want them.
But the reason it will not work in general, is that it is extremely difficult to muster that kind of commitment and dedication when you don’t have a little human depending on you.
Unwritten books, non-build businesses and trips around the world that are not taken, do not have the same sense of urgency as an infant.
Just like I ultimately didn’t want children, I decided recently that I wasn’t going to invest, learn, turn myself inside out and so on, over my love life ever again.
And realizing all those thoughts could now be spend on something else, almost made my heart skip a beat!
What an inspiring thought!
If the next 14 year I would dedicate those mental resources and that time, to a new cause, what would it be?
I decided building my legacy and empire as a writer (under two names) and BODY.
Oh, dear mother of God, if only I would get off my ass and not write so much (I admit I immediately saw how this conflicted with my first goal), and do yoga, go outside, exercise a bit, but mainly-
If I would just give the MENTAL attention to being a successful writer and having a strong and healthy body,
as I had given to men the past 14 years?
I would soar.
So I got to work, and I have to say, I was very happy with the result!
It was even better than 14 years ago.
I knew what I wanted, and I knew which practices would help me. I drew that blueprint of daily practices and healthy habits, just like that.
One of the things was mindset work around the areas of writing, body AND having lovers.
So I was not longer trying, for lovers.
They were also not going to be worked on, or anything like that.
From now on they, the lovers plural (although I m monogamous I thought two was better, to keep it light, although I m still not sure I can handle that mentally)
were just going the be there.
Without question.
So I was totally happy with how things were going.
Yet tonight I realized that despite being very involved in all the topics I had created affirmations about, I was only actively thinking about the men, the lovers.
All the other things were forgotten the moment I had closed that journal.
Yet I did some digging and discovered that despite fantasizing about men, and not about anything else –
I had come home from a bike ride, sat back behind my desk and was exceptionally inspired.
Instead of writing two tiny posts, which I thought would take me 45 minutes, this is my third big post.
The other two were written under my real name;
One is posted today, at Rock Star Writer Nijmegen, the other will be posted over there tomorrow.
So I had “wasted” mental bandwidth thinking “about boys”, something I have been thinking about for 14 years and that I thought I was done thinking about.
But after I came home I was extremely productive!
In hindsight – you know those women who get angry at the thought of having to limit themselves once they become a mother, or having to choose one or the other?
And then they just do all of it?
That would have been me.

Chapter 12 of Demons and Daemons,
will be shared soon,
in a new episode of The Book Club

Subscribe to the blog or follow social media:
Facebook page LS Harteveld
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSHarteveld

About The Book Club

In The Book Club you can find:
– a post
– and one Chapter of my novella Demons and Daemons.

These Book Club posts will form a new book, “A Map Into Unknown”
Covering a journey of three weeks into darkness (Demons and Daemons)
and the rest of 2020, finding my way back to the light!


Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.

Nederlands blog:

Doggy (Out of) Style | The Book Club final week

On Saturday November 7, I wrote the turning point blogpost in a series that has covered five months of 2020;
A Chance To Purge All That Once Was | The Book Club final week
This is one of those final 7 posts, to purge all that once was.

It came to me, the way all revelations seem to come to me nowadays;
Through a man I call The Saint.
In my blogposts which I write “from 1995”, for the project where I live as if it’s 1995, I call him Nikki;
A man from England with whom I am writing letters.

I know The Saint, the 2020 version of Nikki, through the internet but other than that I don’t know him any more than Lauren95 knows her anonymous Nikki.
Whether it’s 2020 or we take the story to 1995;
It’s just that there was a click.

Rather than a physical affair, or flirtations that are aimed at becoming a couple or having sex, our correspondence is really just that.
Allowing Lauren95, the 23 year old version of me, to get over her relationship with Bear.
And allowing current day me, to get over my relationship with Mr.Big.

It’s funny how this new correspondence makes me aware what blessing there is in wanting each other, but beforehand indicating you’re not available for real sex; What a unique set of circumstances, that creates an experience you’ll never forget.
It’s almost as if the minds demand to plunge into one another, as if they demand full satisfaction on the mental plane, when the physical aspect of sex is taken off the menu.

And it’s never entirely off the menu.
I have a body, he has a body.
It’s just that considering the circumstances, a step to become lovers will not be easily taken. And in all likeliness, never be taken.

But the mind plunges, confesses, absorbs, penetrates.
They melt together and do the things the bodies can’t. And in my opinion they do it because the bodies can’t.

The Saint and me were talking about our favorite poses, and our least favorite poses, and although I thought I had good reason to not like doggy style sex – because it hurts because the penetration is too deep – he made it very specific.
He asked me if I had been hurt.
And maybe because I had been so explicit about the physical aspect being hurtful, I understood this question as:

I think I brushed it off, or repeated the physical aspects of it, because I really don’t have a memory of anything happening in doggy against my will or anything.
But despite my quick and pragmatic answers, I kept thinking about it. 

Had I been hurt in doggy?

The question wasn’t answered until we had already moved on to our favorite poses, and I said I liked the melting together missionary.
And how I remembered the most intimate versions of that to be in our first few years. And suddenly I felt sorry for myself, because I knew that I had not gotten that in recent years.

It was as if the most intimate part of our affair had stopped years before it ended. As if he had retreated, pulled away, and I had not noticed.
But I could have, if I had paid attention.

And that’s when I realized it was not so much about not liking doggy. Nor was my problem with the physical pain of it. 
But that doggy style sex stood for something that had stayed on the menu. And suddenly I did remember vividly that every time I positioned myself that way, turning away with my back towards him, I had felt disappointment.
I had known, it was not what I really wanted.

Just that I didn’t understand why.

When your deepest desire is to melt together, drowning into each other’s eyes, and the bodies pressing and sweating together, desiring to become one and to be one, and then you get doggy?

Yeah, that hurts.


An unexamined life is not worth living


the Book Club: Demons and Daemons

You just read part 1, my column.

Today’s chapter below, from Demons and Daemons, is a very informative one! 

This is what I wrote:

Chapter 10, Untitled Notes from Lauren #9

I got the male midlife crisis

day 14, Sunday July 26

Michael Douglas (then 48) on the set of Basic Instinct
Considering both how much I dreaded going into this midlife phase, which was mapped out in our yoga education and that horrified me because all options of how my 42 year + period would strike me seemed equally horrible;
As well as how much I have thought about why my life was shot to hell the past couple of years yet I seem to be miraculously cured at my 48th birthday,
it is surprising it took me until this weekend to consider that something peculiar has happened.
Because some of my readers may still be looking for an explanation wtf hit them between 42 and 56 depending on your gender (I ll give you the correct ages later)
I have chosen to share this.
That really is the only reason, because “I” Lauren Harteveld, my pseudonym, is living in 1995 where I just turned 23, so this does conflict with my current art form/ performance.
And “I” Suzanne, who is the current-day-bound of the two, also tends to ignore everything about her biological age as well as the covid struck reality we’re currently living in, as much as possible.
So I had already decided against sharing my midlife insights,
because for my art I m 23 and in real life I don’t care about reality,
until I realized that if I can help even one person, feeling a tiny bit better than I did the past three years-
it was plenty of reason to start sharing.
So let’s start sharing.
In general the midlife crisis of men in their early 50s, and the going through the menses of women late 40s are phenomenons very well documented.
Usually as pretty painful, but also always temporary.
One day you wake up and your physical ailments, as it usually express itself in women, or your existential crisis as it presents itself in men, is gone.
But yoga offers a little bit broader perspective on things, dating this female time of deep crisis (worst case scenario) or of starting anew (optimistic outcome) from her 42nd to her 48th;
And with men the male midlife crisis which is the same time of deep crisis or starting with a new woman or a new family- between his 49th birthday and his 56th.
So the women and men are on different cycles, first of all time wise with the women snapping out of it a year before the men are even started, but men and women also differ in how it expresses itself.
This model of the midlife crisis is related to the 7 chakras, and you move up bottom to top.
So you start at birth in the rudimentary root chakra, and at age 6 (girls) or age 7 (boys) you move up to the second chakra.
From 36 to 42 the woman goes through her most spiritual enlightened chakra (7), only to be cast back to the hell of the first chakra age 42.
She will leave:
– men
– children
– jobs
– careers
Behind only to go on a quest for Je Ne Sais Quoi in infinite forms, usually ending up disappointed.
Or she’ll find a new man, start a new family, or have a child.
So option one is she’ll basically lose 6 years, option B is she’ll start again and option C is the worst of all, which is she’ll get sick and lose the 6 years getting better. Or worse.
I think I must have blocked the very thought of what would happen after my 42nd birthday, because I can remember dreading it when I was younger;
Yet cannot remember ever reflecting on the entire thing when my life had it’s own funny roller coaster way of falling apart and coming apart at the seams.
A time when a little perspective would have been useful information.
So anyway- looking back, I can say, yes –
time wise I was female.
From 42-48 I did go through the 1st chakra period of having the female version of a midlife crisis in the sense that I lost everything.
And yet!
I didn’t go on a quest to look for myself in India.
I basically abandoned yoga those years, even though I was a yoga teacher.
I certainly did not become pregnant, and being someone’s secret lover can in no way qualify as starting a new family.
And then this weekend I saw it!
So three guesses for whom the most likely scenario going through a midlife crisis is having secretive, exciting, sexual affairs?
Who does not go to India finding themselves?
Who starts getting totally repulsed by the idea of boring long term relationships full of commitments?
If I view my midlife years, the 1st chakra years of yoga which for a woman are 42-48 and for a man 49-56;
If I view how horrible I felt, and that the only thing that was able to bring me joy (really bring me joy) was an affair that revolved around the bestest time ever and doing all the things in all the ways-
I spent my midlife years in a perfectly normal way!
I once took a test and my brain scored 97% on being male.
You can take it here, in case you’re interested:
So even though this insight is not going to make those years less painful, or make the “God damn I lost at least three years” (in my case) feeling of hopelessness any less;
Knowing I got to have a secret affair instead of going to India, getting pregnant or falling ill;
I got a STUNNING deal and I should never ever, speak badly of it ever again!

Chapter 11 of Demons and Daemons,
will be shared soon,
in a new episode of The Book Club

Subscribe to the blog or follow social media:
Facebook page LS Harteveld
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSHarteveld

About The Book Club

In The Book Club you can find:
– a post
– and one Chapter of my novella Demons and Daemons.

These Book Club posts will form a new book, “A Map Into Unknown”
Covering a journey of three weeks into darkness (Demons and Daemons)
and the rest of 2020, finding my way back to the light!


Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.

Nederlands blog:

The Sex Room That Can’t Come To 1995 | The Book Club final week

On Saturday November 7, I wrote the turning point blogpost in a series that has covered five months of 2020;
A Chance To Purge All That Once Was | The Book Club final week
And this is one of those final 7 posts, to purge all that once was.

One of the first things that became clear to me, when I let this idea of cleansing, dropping but most of all transmuting everything that had to do with my former lover, take shape, was that I wanted to go beyond just your regular “getting over” or “making over”.
Instead of becoming a renewed and reinvented current day me, I was going to dial it up a notch and integrate these 7 days into a project which I started in 2019;
About living in 1994-1995 and beyond.

I was reshaping my own history, of 25 years ago.

So according to this project, I m now living in November 1995.

You can find these diaries, that project, in the tabs of this website.

So this week of getting over a relationship that ended, was relocated from 2020 to the way younger me in 1995.
Where Lauren’s relationship to Bear, had ended in 1994.
And she had caught herself holding on to his memory, and to the possibility of picking it up.
Even after a rendez vous in a hotel had turned sour, where she just couldn’t be “the other woman”, she was unconsciously keeping the door open.
She knew she had to let go.

And in many aspects my 2020 life could be transferred to 1995 perfectly.
Instead of going back to 2014, the year before I met my lover, I was going back to 1989; When a 17 year old Lauren had taken matters in her own hand, and had started an affair with a boy she called Bear.

And current day wishes to get on track physically, could also be translated to 1995. Lauren95 had put on weight after her first year on a desk job. 

Her desire to move past Bear, who was now living with his girlfriend, making her a mistress and how she didn’t want that?
All direct translations of my current day situation where after more than 5 years our affair ended, and I am coming to terms with realizing I will never have it in me again to be “that” other woman.

But there was one thing, one aspect, that I encountered and thought:
“OMG that is so cool!”
Only to then realize: “Dang. I can’t take this with me.”
Because Lauren 95 is not going to have this memory. Not this association.
I’ll have to leave it in 2020, and can’t bring it with me to my 1995 performance project, to Lauren95 and her lover the young man Bear.
And that was a sex room.

It was a fantasy that could not be tied to a couple in their early 20’s that had spent their encounters in student dorms and student houses.

“The sex room” was reserved for a couple where at least one of the two had a condo that was so big, there had been an entire, barely used, extra room tied to the kitchen.
It was a room that was so scarcely used, if you wanted to turn this into an adult play room, you would only have to move the vacuum cleaner, take out a drying rack and give it a little paint.
That’s how surplus it was.

My lover, whose entire penthouse had basically become one big surplus after he married, had such a room.
And on more than one occasion, I fantasized out loud that we could make that a room entirely dedicated to our sex play.
And I was really specific about what I wanted, and like always, he merrily joined along with suggestions.

That fantasy room, in his apartment, something which will never happen because we broke up and in Covid struck 2020 I just can’t make myself be a secret mistress again;
That room is a symbol of my sexuality.

Full of potential yet heavily underused.

And yesterday, I was studying my dream apartment and realized this condo, had a large, unmarked, room, next to the kitchen.
The exact same sex room I had always envisioned us having.

But the fictional Lauren, who I was becoming, and whose new life I was creating?
Lauren95 who was getting over her lover Bear, after he had broken up with her in December 94?

She would have no memory of her lover Bear and herself, fantasizing about a spare room.

I was on a junction;
Either I was going to get over my current day lover, and this room in my dream house stood for a chance to take ownership over that part of my sexuality.
Because the room was no longer his, no longer ours; It would be MINE.

Or, I could go along with the fantasy, art-project and performance, of shaping myself into Lauren95, an ambitious and soon very successful 23 year old who was leaving her student life and the young man Bear, behind.

She was envisioning a new house for herself, which according to this map, had a door in the kitchen, leading to an extra space.
Entirely neutral.

And I chose that.

The sex room, an extra room that I discovered on the map of a dream house where I want to live, was the first thing that I “cleared”, in these seven days where I get over my relationship with my lover.

It was the first thing, I could let go.
Because Lauren95 never had it, so she never lost it either. 


An unexamined life is not worth living


the Book Club: Demons and Daemons

You just read part 1, my column.

Today’s chapter below, from Demons and Daemons, is…. heavy ass stuff. A chapter that belongs in the category: “What AM I going to do with you?”
But a little while ago I actually came up with a creative solution.
I was going to create a book and call it:
– insert a catchy story or book title that promises something juicy-
and then the subtitle:
“And all the other times I wanted to stop writing and wrote quite a good blogpost about this extremely boring topic”
And then t
his chapter would be in it!

This is what I wrote:

Chapter 9, Untitled Notes from Lauren #8

“A New Journey Begins”

day 13, Saturday July 25

in the movie Basic Instinct Sharon Stone plays a writer, Catherine Tramell

“After God’s Omen of having my text disappear into thin air on the day of the lord,
one is of course aware that signs are being sent and caution is called for!”
It is exactly one week ago that I posted an Untitled Notes from Lauren here on Facebook.
I did write one more, on Sunday, but that one was eaten by Facebook editor AND it was also eaten by the copy paster, which had only copied 4 sentences instead of the thousand or so words.
Because these Facebook notes – also known as the feast called “illegal blogging” where I feel less pressure because it’s not posted to a blog (sometimes I harvest them later, and blog them together) – do have a habit of becoming lengthy.
Usually the length a normal blogger would publish to the blog without hesitation, but I still prefer them here.
So what happened?
Well after God’s Omen of having my text disappear into thin air on the day of the lord, one is of course aware that signs are being sent and caution is called for!
And indeed, despite holding up day-by-day reasonably well, and even writing both as Lauren and under my real name (Suzanne) that things were going really good;
This was all a matter of perspective.
Good lighting so to speak.
The way a photographer chooses to portray his model in a certain way.
In the same way I too, always tend to focus on the positive and not dramatize things.
But there was some stuff happening behind the scenes that showed me (as many posts confess a conclusion I ve drawn about six times in the last 2,5 years)
that the time has come to stop ->online<- writing as LS Harteveld.
So I did.
And because it came together with the realization – not to say disillusion – that my 14 year long journey in search of the right relationship style and my sexual preferences, had come to an end, it was a bit of a two puncher.
First coming to a conclusion that LS Harteveld had to stop writing online.
(a conclusion which had been drawn before)
And that my 14 year journey had come to an end.
(something never thought before)
In 2006 I broke up with my partner after 14 years, and went in search of what I did want – hoping to find an explanation why I wasn’t satisfied in a healthy and fun relationship we were having.
That question is answered.
But because it involved things like “secrecy” “forbidden fruit” “double identities” yada yada –
Almost forgot the most important one.
It also involves:
“Men with whom you have fantastic sex still not choosing for you”
So that was a bummer when you find out you’re still losing the best guys the same way you did as a teen-
but I m already way too elaborate.
So anyway!
Back to why the result of the 14 year long journey was that the blog, the honesty, the entire sex thing on paper – had to go,
was because if I have a chance of a normal relationship – a guy choosing me for once – and the great sex becomes a great relationship, just like it did 28 years ago;
In that case The Lady cannot have a blog.
And not just because HE would not accept it if he is known as my partner and I write about how I finally get it in all the ways, and all the days, and how I m now finally in sexual nirvana;
I would not want that.
I don’t want to blog about going steady.
I would get totally freaked out if the man I seeing intimately and we’re together day after day, if I would at the same time be writing about him.
Writing here – online as LS Harteveld – was a journey of self-discovery.
But it will prevent relationships to grow, maybe it already has.
They might never go beyond the secret-lover status, and if they do, then I am the one who doesn’t want to blog anymore.
If I knew beforehand I would never ever get into something serious, I could keep it up.
But that’s not the case.
So that was the reason I knew, and know, that I will no longer be writing online as LS Harteveld.
I will continue my 1994 series, but that will be an offline endeavor, so my pen doesn’t really shape the reality
I could postpone 5 years before I publish.
Who knows, maybe I don’t even feel like writing that anymore…
there is no way to tell.
So the writing part died out because of that.
But I had also picked up curating/ publishing all the material, and that also got a slap in the face last week.
There were a couple of men or situations/possibilities that completely bottomed out, and I felt so empty handed.
The thought of going through that work, even if I “feel like” Suzanne the editor and not like Lauren the woman or girl who wanted to be with those men –
it was very raw and I could not see myself editing.
Still can’t.
But the difference with last week, is that I ve so made my peace with everything.
It was a beautiful journey, searching for your sexuality for 14 years straight.
And I found it, I know now what it is that I like and why a long term relationship with someone who is faithful to me, is not going to work.
I want a long term relationship with someone very supportive of me, including when i would want sexual adventures with others.
But most of all I need him to keep things exciting, for us both basically.
He needs to be open and exploratory with other women.
But the relationship I seek does not need seeking.
The man I seek doesn’t either.
Anything I do to “get there”; it all feels so off.
After 14 years, I m done doing anything for my love life
I m done!
It’s okay to be alone, I m not going to spend another minute of my life “trying”.
Enough is enough.
This morning I woke up knowing that YES, I am “over” the scare and sorrow of having to go through everything I wrote the past 14 years, that has not been published yet.
I will do it.
I will curate it, edit it, publish it.
I, Suzanne, will take care of this legacy I built.
And there is something else; The name thing.
Signing just as Suzanne doesn’t feel good.
“Lauren” has become a part of me.
So much, that I have actually considered adding “Lauren” to my name, on all my other accounts as well.
I won’t, but I will here!
So I am Suzanne/Lauren, the editor of Lauren Harteveld, a fictional writer who wrote about sex, relationships, movies, pop culture, from 2006 until the summer of 2020.
And maybe we can see that as our new journey.
You and me.
Maybe we were the ones that were supposed to find each other.
And ride off into the sunset.


Chapter 10 of Demons and Daemons,
will be shared soon,
in a new episode of The Book Club

Subscribe to the blog or follow social media:
Facebook page LS Harteveld
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSHarteveld

About The Book Club

In The Book Club you can find:
– a post
– and one Chapter of my novella Demons and Daemons.

These Book Club posts will form a new book, “A Map Into Unknown”
Covering a journey of three weeks into darkness (Demons and Daemons)
and the rest of 2020, finding my way back to the light!


Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.

Nederlands blog:

A Chance To Purge All That Once Was | The Book Club final week

I have not touched this project for the longest time.
Two months?
And there were times when my vision for what I wanted for this blog, and for my writing under the name LS Harteveld/Lauren, was so strong and clear that it seemed unlikely that I would pick this series up.
That cancelling The Book Club – where I write a new introductory chapter and then share one chapter from my novella Daemons and Demons – 
was the only logical, and likely thing to happen.
I would “tear apart” (meaning cherry pick chapters I like, and publish them as stories) the novel Daemons and Demons, and I still might! 
But I would no longer invest in finishing this Book Club series.

Broad strokes, my November/December vision for this site and my books is very simple: I m harvesting this site, creating books.
Based on topic, not on series or original diary sequence.

For example, the book Daemons and Demons ends with a chapter on Catherine Tramell of Basic Instinct.
That chapter will end up in my book “C.” which will only contain posts about Basic Instinct and Catherine Tramell.
And chronological, diary-like posts, like this one, and in particular with the layering of folding two diaries into one –Daemons and Demons, into The Book Club, and then publishing it as A Map Into Unknown – man!
Way too complicated! 

And a very odd thing to have in my collection. Or to get ready to print.

So the reason I have picked up this series is not because I am still as convinced as I used to be, that Daemons and Demons, folded into The Book Club (and published together as A Map Into Unknown) is an absolute must for me to publish, and that I should therefor just muscle through finishing it.
That I had dropped it was enough proof for me, that it was NOT meant to be.
So this is not an attempt to breathe life into it, out of some scarcity mindset of not wanting all that writing being wasted or anything.

But something happened today, that immediately made me think of this series, and I thought:
“Wait a minute! Wasn’t that series…. the one with that book club and that other book inside of it….. the one that I dropped a couple of months ago, and that still had all these chapters open….. let me see…. wasn’t that like 7 or 8 chapters or something?”
And I pulled out a folder I had also not touched in weeks or months, found the handwritten overview of chapters and how it all fit together and;
This series has indeed eight chapters left.
Offering the perfect framework for a very sexy proposal I was made today;
To masturbate every day for the upcoming week.

The invitation, from a new and anonymous man whom I call The Saint, was actually a lot more detailed and thought through.
It had more variation, layers, play.
This reminds me of a story about an escort I adore, her name is Avery Moore and early 2014 she became famous for publishing her time schedule/ where she spent her time on in 2013, which had been very prolific.
During Covid she offered packages to her clients that contained assignments, power play, erotic stories and so on.
The Saint’s assignment, which I am comfortably rounding off to “masturbate for one week” to protect what we have together, had actually come as a thought through and refined assignment, with teasing, thoughtful details, as if it was a professional bundle I could have purchased as an alternative to a sexual service.
But it was seven days, that part was easy.
And starting tomorrow.
Together with writing this blog on the eve of the start of this challenge, makes it eight.

The number of chapters of Daemons and Demons still to be shared in this series?

And still, I had not immediately full-on decided I was going to do this. But I was definitely toying with the thought. What is better than a sex challenge with a stranger?
A sex challenge with a stranger you can write about!
Toying. Just toying with the thought.

But when in my very first email to him, the one where I shared my initial thoughts on his challenge, already brought out painful memories about my lover with whom I had been for five years and I had tears streaming down my face, I knew that this was the real thing.

This was not just some sort of sexy, chatty, it meant nothing email correspondence.
This guy was touching me emotionally. Or maybe I let myself be moved on places that I had carefully been shielding ever since my relationship with my lover ended.
Maybe I was allowing myself to feel things, now that I had someone to write them to.

But now I had or have a different problem.
It brings out so much emotion; I can’t write about it.

Not directly.

The things I allow myself to feel when writing him, are not what I will write in this blog.

If I had been able to write about them publicly, I would have done so, and those things would have been processed somewhere in the past 11 months.
But they were not.
It is the things I could not, and cannot, write about, that he seems to give me access to.
And I know I need to do this… not just to get ahead in life, but also because I m curious of what’s behind that door of emotions that I ve kept locked.
What it will do to me to see eye to eye with these things.

So for the upcoming 7 days, I will not be sharing details about masturbation, or the assignment I got. It will not be about The Saint, and also not about the painful stuff that our correspondence pulls from the darkness into the light.

But I will be here. For 7 days, daily.
Just a line, a paragraph, maybe two.

And the final chapters of Daemons and Demons are long, in-depth stories. And I remember the last one, the one I told you about with Catherine Tramell, as being very upbeat and purposeful.
There is light at the end of the tunnel.

So what I’m saying is, because those chapters are long stand-alone stories, it will not matter that I m not my usual chatty self.
And my blog posts stay short.

What I ve liked about the three weeks I wrote Daemons and Demons, and The Book Club, and even the book title A Map Into Unknown under which I may still publish this diary after all, has that ring to it;
Is that it is always about the journey from the dark into the light.
Into the dark.
Into the light.
There is always both.

And it reminds me of something Florence Scovel Shinn says in one of her books.
I can’t remember the exact words but someone asks her something along the lines of:
“When will I see the light?”
And she answers:
“When you can see in the dark.”


~Lauren livin
An unexamined life is not worth living


the Book Club: Demons and Daemons

You just read part 1, my column.

Today’s “chapter” below, from Demons and Daemons, was about an entire chapter being eaten by the Universe.

This is what I wrote:

Chapter 8, Untitled Notes from Lauren #7

day 7, Sunday July 19

I spent an hour writing a post –
Only to have it eaten by Fb because the Gif was too short to upload.

I even copied it because I knew that could happen!
But the copy FAILED!
Just 5 words instead of a thousand..

The post was about Faith.
So I have FAITH this was meant to be.

Chapter 9 of Demons and Daemons,
will be shared soon,
in a new episode of The Book Club

Subscribe to the blog or follow social media:
Facebook page LS Harteveld
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSHarteveld

About The Book Club

In The Book Club you can find:
– a post
– and one Chapter of my novella Demons and Daemons.

These Book Club posts will form a new book, “A Map Into Unknown”
Covering a journey of three weeks into darkness (Demons and Daemons)
and the rest of 2020, finding my way back to the light!


Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.

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Collect another memory | 1995-1996 diary

Wednesday November 4, 1995
7.30 P.M.

I wanted to call him “The Collector”, before I reread this diary and judged otherwise.
Because in retrospect I had already determined, right from the first chapter* which I wrote in June ’94, what the new man in my love life was going to be.
It was going to be a Nikki Sixx.

Now I don’t know if the man I’m going to call Nikki, looks like Nikki Sixx because I don’t know him.
We only write.

The Collector, my first choice or idea on how to name him, is a reference to the man who bought Anais Nin’s stories.
They made a movie out of it, Delta of Venus, which revolves around this relationship where she wrote erotica and was paid per page by an anonymous collector who only answered through messengers what he wanted her to write next, or focus on more.
I think the movie gave another spin on it, but as far as I can remember in reality she never found out who he was.

The reason I decided to call him Nikki, and not The Collector, is twofold.
Firstly because the first chapter* already speaks of a desire to have a Nikki Sixx in my life; A dominant man, who would push me further than Bear ever had.
With whom I have to work harder.
Initially I thought, as is described in that chapter, that I was longing for someone who is more of a dominant in an S&M way. That he would hurt me p
hysically as part of our sex life.
And I suspected that was not what I was really looking for, but at the time that was as close as I got to understanding why a fan fiction story where Nikki Sixx was a dominant who did hurt his submissive, was appealing to me.
Naturally I thought it was this obvious characteristic of physical pain that appealed to me, because all the other things were already in my relationship with Bear.
I already had “a dominant”.

That was June 1994. Since then, Bear has broken up with me, he’s now living with his girlfriend, and my aids phobia anxiety attacks have returned with a vengeance when Bear and me tried to have sex in a hotel room this summer.
A confession that was first given to Nikki, the man with whom I am in anonymous correspondence, before I could trust it to this diary.

I had even been actively lying in this diary, to avoid telling I had been with Bear. That’s how painful it was.
So contrary to when I wrote that very first chapter*, I no longer “have” a dominant.
Instead I have a vacancy, not just for a surplus to what Bear was offering, but an empty vacancy for everything that has to do with mental intimacy, physical intimacy, mind play, power play.
The days I dreamed about men who were able to add pain to that equation are long behind me.
Eleven months behind me to be exact.
I need to get the basics in place first.

I am no longer interested in a man who can go next level.
If I ever end up with a man in bed again, I m first going to need a really long cry.
Or two.

So that explains why I absolutely did not consider calling this new character “Nikki”.
The desires from that first chapter from summer 1994* seemed desires of another life. A life when things were still sweet and not rotten and lonely and with a lover who has chosen someone normal to live with and have children with, and ditch the girl that was his lover for five years.
Having a Nikki Sixx in my life, is the last thing I want.
1995 Has been miserable enough as it is.

And yet, when I reread that first chapter* from this book, I thought;
“I ll be damned. Let’s go for it.”
Because it really is his dominance that makes me thirst for more. It’s definitely not because he takes care of me, or comforts me for all the bad stuff that’s been happening.
The reason I told him first, about Bear and me meeting this year and how it all turned sour because I just froze up and couldn’t do it (be a mistress) is because he asked me when the last time was I had sex.
I had already told him my relationship with Bear had ended in December, but then when he asked when my last time sex was, I wrote him how we almost had sex.
Until my phobia kicked in.
And that I m now still licking my wounds.
His question brought me to face what had happened this summer, and that I could not lie about it.

Until then I had been telling the story as if it had happened with other men.
I was more honest with “Nikki”, than I had been in my own diary. 

Nikki lives in England, and although he does occasionally visit the Netherlands, I don’t consider him a physical threat nor a physical option.
First of all because I don’t know what he looks like, or what age he is. I refuse to start fantasizing about someone without knowing who he is.
And secondly, because even if he does look as good as Nikki Sixx, Jon Bon Jovi or Slash?
It’s way too dangerous.

Meeting strangers abroad, or from abroad, that’s how 23 year old women end up raped, killed, exploited, abused, blackmailed, or financially ruined.
Giving him a name as dangerous as Nikki Sixx, ensures that I never forget that.

Bear is called Bear because I trust him.
Bear is called Bear because even though he got us a hotel room, and wanted to make love to me like we always had, he stopped as soon as I started having second thoughts, and he never made me feel bad about it.

We don’t name British collectors of my erotic correspondence “Bear”.
We name them: Nikki Sixx.

So that’s already two good reasons to call him Nikki Sixx, really;
1. because my first chapter for this diary speaks of wanting “a Nikki Sixx’ in my life. A golden rule of cinema; If you introduce a gun in the beginning of a movie, you have to fire it later.
2. because I want to remind myself this is dangerous stuff and that I should never think lightly over seeing him, or engaging with him physically.

But there is a third reason, and this is by far the most interesting one:
Because I know now, that my desire for “a Nikki Sixx” in my life, didn’t have anything to do with wanting more pain during sex, or S&M.
Or that I found Bear’s cuteness factor too high, and wanted all the sex and dom stuff, without
a man being just as vulnerable and goodhearted as I am.
It was something else;
I wanted to be challenged mentally
I wanted to be inspired.
I wanted to work…

I wanted a man, and adventures, that would inspire my writing and make for good storytelling – like I said.
And who would keep them coming!

Part of me has always known there was a limit to what Bear would be able to offer me. He would never agree to be the man of a wild, crazy, woman writer.
Not good for business, not good for his ego.
And also:
A disaster for my storytelling and books.

Even if Bear stayed the fun loving, mysterious womanizer, I had always loved, there was no way he would let me write about that.
And with that, the boundaries of what I would be able to write about were set. And most likely those boundaries would be forever closing in.
I would not be able to write about the things he did with other women, nor about the things I did with other men or the fantasies I had about other men.
I would not be allowed to write about our quarrels or how he would want me to go to family gatherings I didn’t want to go to because I felt too much and I felt judged.
Ultimately I would have to choose between writing and Bear.

And I would choose Bear and die inside.
Maybe I would wake up in my midlife crisis or something.

The longing for a Nikki Sixx in my life, was the longing for a muse that would not interfere with my writing. 
Someone who would inspire it, like Bear had, but who was not harmed by it.
The longing for a Nikki Sixx stood for a longing for someone who was not affected by my pen, by my fame, or simply by “me”.
It was a longing for someone I could not outgrow, nor outdo.

And that is exactly what the correspondence to the man I call Nikki does:
From an artistic perspective I have hit the jackpot.

Ever since I’m corresponding with Nikki, I am doing all the things I said I would always do when I was a writer and a publisher.
And it’s not perfect, my God, far from! 
So many weekdays go by without making the hours behind my desk, that I want. Or without doing the physical exercise, yoga and so on, that I want to do to get a killer body.
It’s very hard to be as disciplined, in any area, as an independent without colleagues, rhythm, deadlines.
But because of Nikki I’m getting there.

The pace of our correspondence dictates my work; Or I let it.
And I ll tell you in a sec how Nikki and me started writing, because I completely forgot to introduce him!  
But initially I just started writing immediately when I received a letter. But now I m using the letters as a way to do the things I want to do.
Before I allow myself to write back, I have to do yoga, I have to review a bootleg for the fan club, and I have to work on publishing my books.

And it’s not perfect, but beneath all the things I miss, or fail to achieve, I can detect new dreams, new realities, coming into vision.
Things I didn’t know or couldn’t see, at first.
An example is what happened with Bear and me this summer;
The correspondence, the simple question: “What was your last sexual experience?” made me realize, that it had been a sexual experience.
And that I needed to come to terms with it.
With my phobia, but also with me and Bear breaking up and him choosing someone else.

Another example was the realization that I need a muse, someone who inspires my art, and who is actually enhanced and nourished by my writing.
Instead of someone whose existence is threatened by it.
This is also something I now know, thanks to Nikki who offers me absolutely nothing, except for inspiration.
And me realizing that’s all I need.

And all the other examples are things like: Knowing in what type of house I want to live. What kind of money I want to make. Things about my independence; That I will never be “okay” with selling my hours or my services, although I can understand that I may temporarily have to go back to that to support myself.
I see my body, the way I want it, more clearly than ever before.

So now how we met;
In 1994 I bought a Bon Jovi VHS from a woman, who is actually part of a couple. Her husband is in the bootleg business, and I wanted to know if he could get me a bootleg from the 1988 Bon Jovi concert in Rotterdam.
He couldn’t, but he said he had a contact in England whom I could contact. It was a business I had seen in the European fan club magazine, but I never dared contacting such a business.
The only reason I had asked the husband, the Dutch bootleg trader, was because I already knew his wife and she had put a list of their bootlegs in with the video.
But that’s how I came into contact with the British trader, whom I now call Nikki.

I receive about two letters a week.

Our letters cross each other, so that means we’re having two separate conversations. One is sexual, and the other is about other things.
They’re both entertaining, they’re both intimate, and neither one is ever harsh or offensive. 
He’s very warm, funny, honest, and he doesn’t make any promises.

I often wonder what he gets out of corresponding with a 23 year old Dutch Bon Jovi fan, but that is not for me to say.

And who knows what diary he started, and what desires he had in June 1994;
Who knows what it is I do for him.
I don’t. 

All I know is what he does for me.
And that’s sheer magic.

An unexamined life is not worth living

* In this post I refer frequently to the first chapter of this series.
Which is this one:
A letter from a stranger | “1994”: fanfic inspired erotica episode 1

Collect another memory  | 1995-1996 diary
is the third chapter to
1995-1996 diary 



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