Think of me

Feeling sick with a mixture of worry, excitement and butterflies in her stomach, Lauren goes over to see her lover Big.
She will not eat any of the food she brings.

I rang the bell to the apartment, unclear about what I was going to say, or even hoping for.
Just that I knew I was in even worse shape than when I had texted Big that I needed to see him.

But what story was I going to tell Mr.Big?
Xavier had “warned” me that my feelings for Christopher, that I was afraid were going to influence my relationship with Big,  were probably not mutual.
The reason I use quotation marks on “warned”, is that I wasn’t bothered by them not being mutual. Feeling sick to my stomach and losing 2 kilos in a week because I couldn’t eat, was a situation I longed to end. Preferably by Christopher saying it wasn’t mutual!
And because I was already feeling horrible anyway, and because I had Big’s date to keep me occupied while waiting for Christopher’s answer, I had sent a post-midnight email to Christopher.
I told him what I thought had happened in June.

And that I was aware my feelings for him had changed.
If he didn’t have any feelings for me, and still wanted to see me, that was perfect.
In all other cases, we either needed to have a clear plan, or end things now that we still could.
It was 2 AM when I clicked send, and I had thrown up twice during. The email had been two A4, but I edited it until I had two paragraphs that were clear, and to the point.
They were not manipulative, or seductive in any way.
It was actually written in a way that he would only say “Yes” if God, The Universe and the powers that be, left him no other choice.
That’s how much resistance I felt at the thought of being someone’s secret mistress again. Or simply being part of the stress of another family.
Xavier had been wrong my biggest fear was that it wasn’t mutual.
My biggest fear was that it was.
And I wanted my life back…. my playfulness. My joy.
It had been difficult to keep my spirits up, the years that me and Big had been together. But the past months it had been a downright disaster.
Oblivious to the awakening feelings for Christopher, as well as pushing down the fact that I was getting only marginal attention from Mr.Big, I had not been holding the course.
Simply because there was no course to be held.
Everything was falling apart, and I had no idea what I was aiming for.
Not sure on where I wanted my business to go.

And now that I was aware that the two men had been playing such an important role beneath the surface, I didn’t know what I wanted with them either.
I had always felt loyal to whatever Big’s agenda was.
If he didn’t want to see me, I assumed that was necessary for him.
And I felt the same loyalty towards Christopher.
My email to Christopher had not been to influence his feelings in any way, and had made it clear that I didn’t want to continue our friendship, without making a conscious decision on this.
There was nothing more I could have done. 

And now I was going to have a breakfast date with Big. I had brought condoms, but sex was the last thing on my mind.
I was also afraid that if we had sex today, when we had discussed such an important topic, that our sex would be bad.
And that it would prove to be our last time together.

That had been my experience with other lovers.
The last sex had always been off tune. Weird. Like we were acting, pretending sex. Both feeding our own imagination, or lust for it.
And the only time when “last sex” had been good, I had found out nine months later that there had already been someone else. That destroyed any good memories about that time, and him, as well.

With those guys the only thing I ever remembered was that last time, of awkward sex. The rest had all blurred out.
I didn’t want that with Mr.Big.
Despite carrying condoms.
Mr. Big opened the door and I was so happy to see him. I felt drunk on having had maybe three hours of sleep. But he was jetlagged and probably hadn’t had much more.
He was clean and fresh, wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
Apparently he intended to stay in, or maybe he didn’t want to intimidate me wearing his suite.
He made us eggs and coffee, and had no milk in the house.
Like usual.
We sat at the table. As he was having breakfast, and I was having my coffee, black, I talked. I told him everything. Who Christopher was, what had happened, and that I had no idea if the feelings were mutual, but that I did know that for me they marked the end of an era.
The era where my feelings had been exclusively for Mr.Big.
And then I did something that I had never done in our relationship.
I asked “the question”.
First I took him back to late 2015, to the only time when he had opened up to me.
I had accidentally ran into him at an event, and he had been drinking. We went to his place, and lied on the couch, fully clothed.
I was lying on top of him, our eyes were locked and my tears just kept running.
I could see into his soul.
It had been the only time when he had said he loved me, but he had said it a thousand times. And that he had thought about leaving his wife to be with me.
“Really?” I had asked him. “I had no idea you thought about us that way.”
“Of course I do,” he said. “I m not an idiot.”
That had all been years ago and this time I had to know.
“Why are you not choosing for me?” I asked. “And why have you been neglecting me? Do you want me to go?”
I tried not to sob because I wanted the truth.
Much to my surprise he did make an attempt to answer the question. Much of it was predictable, such as me not wanting to live together.
And of course my writing, which would require working around, for privacy reasons.
But all those things had already been discussed in the past.
What was difficult to digest for me, was that there had been changes in his family situation that he had not told me about.
There had been a time window, or opportunity, where he could have chosen to see me more. And he hadn’t.
If it had not been for the fact that I had felt so clearly, on all occasions that we had been together, that he still deeply cared for me, I would have interpreted everything he said in an entirely different way.
But I felt a deeper truth, than the words he was now speaking.
I had felt, every time, that there had been love for me.
It cost me tremendous effort, to not feel I was constantly losing from his wife. To not make this into something competitive, and to feel into the fact that love was not a finite thing. Not something that needed to be rationed between people.
But it hurt none the less.
A lot.
And I so wished I had never asked, and could go back to going on intuition. To feel what he felt for me, not hear his own interpretation of it.
Which seemed to be filled with doubt.
I started sobbing uncontrollably, and said that I had expected him to give a clear answer that could help me. That he either wanted me to go away, or that he needed time to think if he wanted to choose for me.
“I guess this is just the way we are,” I cried. “You’ve never given clarity. Of course you’re not going to give it now that I need it. With the Christopher story.”
I don’t know what happened after.
Just that we melted together, and that it was the most intimate, sexual experience we ever had. It was a strange mixture of crying, and really nice, simple sex. Doggy style even.
On my request.
With me standing, leaning forward with my hands on the bed, and he was behind me.
We were using a condom, and he came from fucking. Not from oral sex, like usually. It was short and sweet. And not awkward.
When I left I told him to take his time, and that I would be okay. If Christopher and I would kiss or something, I would tell him.
If he didn’t hear anything from me, it was good news.
When I came home I found Christopher’s email.
It was a rejection, what I had described to Big as “good news”.
But at that moment the grim reality of where I was in life, the feeling that I had effectively been trying to avoid for months, sank in.
And it wasn’t good news at all.

<3LSH
An unexamined life is not worth living

I think this will be the final chapter for now…
I feel empty and can’t imagine what I could possibly write about.
If you want to receive the next blog post though, the subscribe button is somewhere on the right.

or follow Twitter ; or Facebook

Think of me is the fifth chapter from Project M. 

tenth anniversary of the book that changed my life!

Summer 2008 I started writing in English.
Dutch American Diary 
Just like now, I was in love with two men. And just like now, they were both taken.
And – yes, just like now –  I had no idea where life would take me.
This 2008 diary became the only thing that offered stability during a time where I had just left my partner after fourteen years and the two new men were driving me crazy.

A book about starting over in your mid-thirties and reinventing yourself as a lover;
As a woman;
And as a vengeful fury from hell.

Als je Nederlands bent is 22 erotische verhalen een aanrader.
Maar je kunt natuurlijk ook gewoon de hele shop leegkopen.

BOOK SHOP

These are my English titles:
Dutch American Diary 2008-2009  €15
LS Diary 2012-2013                                € 10
Bedtime Stories 2014                            €15
Mirage 2014                                               €5
Big, diaries and erotica 2015-2016 € 20
Get a 25% discount on all prices in the shop.
Select your store f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

De volgende Nederlandse boeken
zijn ook op voorraad bij boekhandel de Feeks in Nijmegen
verzending gratis v.a. € 17,50

Het Boek Benjamin           € 45
verzameld werk NL en Engels.
Het enige boek dat hier niet inzit is Witte Tijgerin, dus mijn andere Nederlandse boeken zitten hier wél in.

Mango                                 €15
coming of age novelle

22 erotische verhalen   € 15
literaire pornografie in de geest van Anais Nin

Witte Tijgerin                  €5
gids voor solitaire vrouwen die een geweldig seksleven willen en plenty energie

Everybody

After a night of insomnia and stress related complaints, all uncomfortably similar to warning signs of a heart attack, Lauren craves to end the suspense before it’s killing her.
She would like to tell everybody she’s in love with Christopher.
But unfortunately, no one can know..
She confides in her most discrete friend; Xavier.
But things do not go as planned.

I knew right away that I had made a mistake telling Xavier about my crush on “Christopher”.
Xavier had never told anybody about my affair with Mr.Big, but appeared to be irritated that I was about to add another secret to the pile.
It went down so badly, that I didn’t even tell Xavier who Christopher was. Even though I had intended to.
Assuming that the whole thing wasn’t fueled by jealousy, which was perhaps the wrong assumption but okay, the biggest accusation was my arrogance that I thought it was mutual.
“Why are you so convinced it’s mutual?” Xavier asked.
I truthfully replied that feelings like that are felt by both parties.
“Really? You have never heard of love not being mutual?” Xavier snarked. “That is an entirely new concept to you?”
I didn’t answer that. First of all because since Xavier didn’t seem to be expecting an answer. And secondly, because my thoughts on this would have infuriated him even more.
Which was that in my experience men were at a disadvantage here.
Women could feel a man responding. And therefor the chances that a woman developed feelings for a man who were not returned, were extremely slim.
It was one of my biggest frustrations that men couldn’t feel that.
Men would keep signaling that they were sexually interested in me, and appeared to be dumb, deaf and blind to the fact that I was not sending anything sexual back.

When I first told my mother about this, I had actually been the one roaring in contempt:
“I’m like: I know you want to sleep with me! Just have the decency to hide the damn thing”
My mother shook her head and said:
“No… this is something else. You want to have meaningful conversations with your friends. If a man is only interested in making you compliments, you lose interest.”
Losing interest had proved to be an understatement, because it irritated me greatly. But otherwise she was right.
But then again so was I.

I didn’t care if a friend wanted to sleep with me, as long as we clicked on a soul level AND he had the decency to hide his feelings from me until he felt – I still wasn’t ready to go with the Neanderthal version where men were not be able to tune in and read me – that they were mutual.
Then, and only then, my deeply-connected-on-a-soul level friend was allowed to do something really cute.
Like take my hand.
While being fully tuned in to how I was responding to that gesture.

Or my friend could say something so meaningful that it made me cry.
And offer me a box of tissues but definitely not a hug.
Or if a friend felt that I liked him, he could offer to help me with something practical.
Like fixing my bike or painting my studio.
Someone who was not helping, was Xavier.
“Is it Warren?”
Xavier had turned my revelation that for the first time in four years, I had feelings for a new man, into a common guessing game.
Warren was a senior business coach whose services I had used, when my yoga business seemed to come crashing down. After setting a clear boundary with Warren, that he was no longer allowed to give me advice, since I wasn’t paying him anymore, we were now sending each other art house film tips.
Which wasn’t that easy since I knew jack shit about art house films and didn’t particularly like them either.
Secretly I did hope Warren and I could become friends.

But by now I was getting a bit pessimistic of finding anyone who understood me. Aside from my own mother. 
“No, it’s not Warren,” I sighed. “And I m not going to tell you who it is.”
I was so angry at Xavier for being so unreasonable, that I was going to punish him by withholding him the story.
Yet I was still convinced Xavier was the right man for the job of being my confidante.
The first time I met Xavier, I thought he was a criminal, because he was revealing so little about himself. I was fascinated by him, but didn’t start trusting him until he got into a relationship and I saw he had a soft side. 
Despite our clash today, Xavier would be my backup, if Christopher ever became more than a friend. Because I needed someone to know the truth, should anything bad happen to Christopher or to me.
And I also needed someone to tell sex stories to, if they were still so fresh that I couldn’t write about them.
And in that area too, Xavier was a forgiving listener.
Xavier’s ranting was annoying, because it meant I couldn’t share my story today, and would maybe suffer another night of heart problems;
But Xavier’s behavior was not a sign that he could not be trusted.
As Frodo said when trying to figure out Strider, or Aragorn, in Lord of the Rings:
“If he was one of the enemy, he would look fairer and…well, feel fouler.”
Xavier did not feel foul.
After my slightly disappointing date with Xavier I went to the yogastudio. I had originally intended to choose for my writing and quit teaching yoga altogether, and had spent two weeks making arrangements to transfer the studio to someone else.
Only to come to the conclusion that it was much more practical if I kept it on.
The reason was that in order for my writing business to be fully functional, and not wanting to share my house address with the Chamber of Commerce, I had to have a business location.
And because I didn’t need another office or writing space because I wrote at home. So the location I would rent may as well be a yogastudio.
At least I could make some money back on it.

So now I was busy making arrangements to cancel all cancellations, take all the posts down that we were closing, think about my new offers, and debrief all potential candidates that the studio was no longer on the market.
I would no longer offer a full studio program, nor work nights:
But I did intend to start teaching privates and a few small classes.
Back at the studio, I did the dishes and cleaned the floors, and planned the rest of my day. I asked a friend if she wanted to join me for a film Warren had recommended.
And she did, so that was cool.
Mr.Big had not replied to my A.M. text. Which was so disappointing. I really wanted to see him. Our affair was going through a rough time. This year we had had sex on several occasions, but our meetups were almost random encounters.
He barely made time for me.

Not that the sex was bad, not at all. And sometimes we even saw each other without sex.
But we were nowhere near to the wonderful dating routine we had in place for about three years prior. Where he would cook me dinner, and we would play sex games that stretched body and mind so to speak.
The graphic images of what we did, and all the stuff I would still want to do with him, just haunt me these days.
I started masturbating on something other than Big. Other men or specific situations with anonymous, faceless people.
The reason I put in so much effort into pulling my solo-love life away from him was because our love life was already so fragile, with Mr.Big being so unavailable. I didn’t want my imaginary sex life to only feature him.

I had to have a set of sustainable masturbation fantasies, that would stay unharmed if he ever broke up with me.
Or if, which was more likely, he just stopped calling me, and dating me. And months later I would realize I had been dumped.
Enough reason to not let Mr.Big monopolize my mind.
But after a good start of reinventing my self-pleasure routines, I had regressed back to what it had always been.
Fantasy sex with Mr.Big.
At night I saw the friend and it was so great to see her.

I told her what had happened between me and Christopher.
Not as specific as I could have done with Xavier, but it was nonetheless soothing to be able to tell the truth. To share how Christopher had given me space in that elevator, in that crucial moment when Christopher and me had been in a confided space for the first time in our friendship.
Standing in the back of the elevator and leaving the doorway and the control panel to me.
“Do you know how many men screw that up?” I asked the friend. “That they stand too close, or use the elevator as an excuse to come too near?”
She’s fifteen years older than I am, and her past has been way more adventurous than mine.
Of course she fucking knew. 

“He’s a real man, Lauren,” she said. “You got yourself a real, mature, man.”
It was my second art house film within a week. And this film too, was way too dark for me.
Two movies about men obsessed with violence was definitely too much.
And no one got laid.
I got home right before midnight.
When I took my phone out of my handbag, I saw I had a message from Mr.Big.
“Hi Baby Bee, Sorry to read you’re not doing well. Of course you can come over. My plane just landed, and I ll sleep at the condo. Would you like to come for breakfast tomorrow? Love, B.”
Maybe someone was going to get laid after all.

<3LSH
An unexamined life is not worth living

To find out what happens next (I would like to know too!) follow this blog. The subscribe button is somewhere on the right.
or follow Twitter ; or Facebook

Everybody is the fourth chapter from Project M. 

tenth anniversary of the book that changed my life!

Summer 2008 I started writing in English.
Dutch American Diary 
Just like now, I was in love with two men. And just like now, they were both taken.
And – yes, just like now –  I had no idea where life would take me.
This 2008 diary became the only thing that offered stability during a time where I had just left my partner after fourteen years and the two new men were driving me crazy.

A book about starting over in your mid-thirties and reinventing yourself as a lover;
As a woman;
And as a vengeful fury from hell.

Als je Nederlands bent is 22 erotische verhalen een aanrader.
Maar je kunt natuurlijk ook gewoon de hele shop leegkopen.

BOOK SHOP

These are my English titles:
Dutch American Diary 2008-2009  €15
LS Diary 2012-2013                                € 10
Bedtime Stories 2014                            €15
Mirage 2014                                               €5
Big, diaries and erotica 2015-2016 € 20
Get a 25% discount on all prices in the shop.
Select your store f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

De volgende Nederlandse boeken
zijn ook op voorraad bij boekhandel de Feeks in Nijmegen
verzending gratis v.a. € 17,50

Het Boek Benjamin           € 45
verzameld werk NL en Engels.
Het enige boek dat hier niet inzit is Witte Tijgerin, dus mijn andere Nederlandse boeken zitten hier wél in.

Mango                                 €15
coming of age novelle

22 erotische verhalen   € 15
literaire pornografie in de geest van Anais Nin

Witte Tijgerin                  €5
gids voor solitaire vrouwen die een geweldig seksleven willen en plenty energie

Burning Up

Technically? Lauren is still faithful in her secret affair with the married Mr.Big. But now that she’s fallen in love with her friend Christopher, the impenetrable shield of her monogamy is showing the first signs of wear.

I thought I could do this….
Just let it be.
Not tell Christopher how I feel, and not tempt another married man into starting an affair. Hell, with my body’s current tantrum, I don’t even know if I can have an affair again!
And be a mistress.
Even if I broke up with Mr.Big to simplify things, and then Christopher and me had time to start our affair, or just get to know each other better really…
It strikes me how little I know of him, and how private he has always been. 
But even then?
Could I go through this rollercoaster ride of having a secret lover?
Am I really a mistress, like I ve always claimed I am?
Am I someone who will not get her “fix”, will not stay interested, and will walk out bored unless the stakes are high, the secrecy is killing, and emotions are rampant?
“Yes, you are,” Mister Big would say.
He was the first to point out that my phobias for std’s (or you could say a phobia for social exclusion really) that I had been suffering since I was a teenager, had altered the very nature of my sexuality.
That I simply couldn’t be at the level of normalness and intimacy, that were the cornerstone of normal relationships. I needed the high, and the adrenaline of being in love, and of it being a secret affair.
So because I was unsure of what I wanted, and also because I didn’t want to influence Christopher, I decided I wouldn’t do anything.
Not about my relationship with Mr.Big, which had been marginalized really. And not by me. 
I would say nothing to Christopher, because I was 99% sure that he had felt something too. And that once I would say something about it, it would be a real thing.
If he was still in denial, I wasn’t going to ruin his life by enlightening him.
So I had already made up my mind. I knew what was the right thing to do. But when I got to bed and I got pain in my left arm (which is the side related to your heart) and a panic attack. A sickening feeling.
“What was I thinking?” I wondered.
There was no way was going to keep this up.
I longed for clarity, with all my heart. I wanted to express what I was feeling. I wondered if I had a friend, someone I could trust..
And I also wanted to tell Mr.Big what had happened. And ask him what he wanted, and why he had let it slip between us.
Did he really want me to turn my back on him and move on with my life?
Because then now would be a good time to say so.

<3LSH
An unexamined life is not worth living

To find out what happens next (I would like to know too!) follow this blog. The subscribe button is somewhere on the right.
or follow Twitter ; or Facebook

Burning Up is the third chapter from Project M. 

tenth anniversary of the book that changed my life!

Summer 2008 I started writing in English.
Dutch American Diary 
Just like now, I was in love with two men. And just like now, they were both taken.
And – yes, just like now –  I had no idea where life would take me.
This 2008 diary became the only thing that offered stability during a time where I had just left my partner after fourteen years and the two new men were driving me crazy.

A book about starting over in your mid-thirties and reinventing yourself as a lover;
As a woman;
And as a vengeful fury from hell.

Als je Nederlands bent is 22 erotische verhalen een aanrader.
Maar je kunt natuurlijk ook gewoon de hele shop leegkopen.

BOOK SHOP

These are my English titles:
Dutch American Diary 2008-2009  €15
LS Diary 2012-2013                                € 10
Bedtime Stories 2014                            €15
Mirage 2014                                               €5
Big, diaries and erotica 2015-2016 € 20
Get a 25% discount on all prices in the shop.
Select your store f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

De volgende Nederlandse boeken
zijn ook op voorraad bij boekhandel de Feeks in Nijmegen
verzending gratis v.a. € 17,50

Het Boek Benjamin           € 45
verzameld werk NL en Engels.
Het enige boek dat hier niet inzit is Witte Tijgerin, dus mijn andere Nederlandse boeken zitten hier wél in.

Mango                                 €15
coming of age novelle

22 erotische verhalen   € 15
literaire pornografie in de geest van Anais Nin

Witte Tijgerin                  €5
gids voor solitaire vrouwen die een geweldig seksleven willen en plenty energie

Not telling him I ve fallen in love

I m not just not telling him… I m also not staring into his eyes like this, trust me.

At first I thought this was a married-man thing.
That my resistance towards sharing my new feelings with my married friend Christopher, had to do 
with the fact that I didn’t want to tempt him into breaking his vows, cheating on his wife, ruining his life.
I m a firm believer that the responsibility for cheating is with the cheating party.
Not with the mistress.
I m making this a him=cheater/ her=mistress story.
But gender doesn’t have anything to do with it; this is just a reflection of my situation.
I ve been a mistress to Mr.Big since 2015, but it started out as something that happened to me. I didn’t choose it. Later on I embraced the identity, and recognized it as my own.
But another important characteristic of our affair was that Mr.Big chased me. Not the other way around.
So I never felt responsible for doing anything “to him”.
Because it was his choice.
But with Christopher, I am the one who has fallen for a married man, and he doesn’t know that.
So 2015:
A married Mr.Big wanted me, wooed me, and when I fell in love it was a done deal.
And 2018:
I m in love with married Christopher, and I m unsure if I want to woo him, or close the deal.
If I could trust that he’s completely repulsed by the idea of me, or the idea of cheating, then I would tell him. And we could laugh it off, and it would be really funny to have him rejecting me.
I m sure he’d say that I should get some horny 25 year old, not a man his age.
Or that he’s a lousy lay.
It would be fun, and afterwards we could continue our friendship carefree.
But chances that Christopher is that certain, are slim.
And then we get into a whole bunch of scenarios, that are actually very much influenced by the fact that I ve told him about my feelings, or that I ve facilitated nearness, contact, time together, hoping that he’d use it to make his move.
For example:
What if he does have feelings for me, but chooses to stay faithful?
In that case, me making it easy for him to start an affair, means I’m responsible for his cheating. Because he would have contained himself, as long as I hadn’t pushed it.
Or he has feelings for me but he chooses not to persue it because he feels insecure, and believes I won’t answer them.
AHA!
And that’s when I had my lightbulb moment.
That’s when I saw, very clearly, how this entire “do I tell him or not” – question didn’t have anything to do with Christopher being married! That I would do well, to never EVER facilitate nearness, and to always play hard to get.
Because I NEED A MAN TO BE SECURE.
If a man is too insecure to pursue me, then things are not going to work out in the bedroom.
I had this conversation on Twitter, explaining that I need a man to “read” me, because if I have to talk him through hitting on me, then things are not going to work out between the sheets.
Then the roles are set, with me constantly telling him how I want to be touched, fucked, and what mental games I like to play, so that I don’t have to bruise his ego by correcting him afterwards.
And I m going to hold that against him.
I m going to hate him for not understanding me, for having to take initiative, for making me go through lengths so that this whole thing can be a riskfree ride for him.
Yuck.
I need a man to take risks….
I will never tell a man that I m in love with him and that my defenses are paper-thin, and that he’ll find me dripping wet because I want to see him leaping, taking a chance, and being fucking prepared to fail miserably.
And when I say that I want a man to read me, what I m really saying is:
I want him to pay attention, as if I m a game that he wants to figure out in order to win it.
If he can’t do that, because he’s not smart enough, or bold enough, or because he’s afraid I ll reject him?
Then he’s not my guy!
It really is so freaking simple.
I dated for eight years, before I ran into Mr.Big. And in those eight years the biggest “mistake” if you want, I made, was that I put tremendous effort into dating and trying to like a potential partner, and turning a blind eye on everything I didn’t like;
All in order to get laid.
All in order to have sex.
Sex that was good, or even great. But what kept nagging me was that I was the one putting in all the effort.
I was the one who managed our courtship, who worked around his ego, who facilitated, and made things easy. And by the time I finally got what I wanted I think I was almost vengeful, and I was extremely angry if it stayed at having sex just a couple of times.
I was like:
DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH I INVESTED TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN?!
And yet…
And I know this is going to sound strange.
But do you know, that for a long time I ve said that I would do it again if I had to?
That I would do what it took to have some sort of a sex life, while being single. Even if it meant that I had to build the entire thing with my own two hands and a lot of imagination, and all he had to do was play the role that fit him like a glove because I had not picked a part for him that was too hard.
I had created something that suited his talents, and stayed within his comfort zone.
For a long time I did think I would do that again, if Big would break up with me, and I would be single.
Until a few weeks back I realized:
No.
Never.
I d rather not have sex, than to ever lower my standards and make things easier for a man.
I need him to stand up for what he wants.
I need him to be able to take rejection.
And I need him to read me, and just know what type of rejection I m giving him:
Is it because I m really not interested.
Or because he scares me, because I m overwhelmed by emotions for him and that my No means that:
This is scary as fuck.
And if he doesn’t understand all of those things?
Or he can’t take being rejected?
And he doesn’t see conquering me as a challenge?
Then I m better off without him.
And he’s most definitely better off without me.

<3LSH
An unexamined life is not worth living

PS:
In addition to the post: Another reason I m not telling, is because being in love is a fragile thing. Just like wanting sex: I can drop out of it easily.
If I would say I was in love with him, I would suggest it’s a done deal. When I still need him to work for it.

To find out what happens next (I would like to know too!) follow this blog. The subscribe button is somewhere on the right.
Follow Twitter ; or Facebook

tenth anniversary of the book that changed my life!

Summer 2008 I started writing in English.
Dutch American Diary 
Just like now, I was in love with two men. And just like now, they were both taken.
And – yes, just like now –  I had no idea where life would take me.
This 2008 diary became the only thing that offered stability during a time where I had just left my partner after fourteen years and the two new men were driving me crazy.

A book about starting over in your mid-thirties and reinventing yourself as a lover;
As a woman;
And as a vengeful fury from hell.

Als je Nederlands bent is 22 erotische verhalen een aanrader.
Maar je kunt natuurlijk ook gewoon de hele shop leegkopen.

BOOK SHOP

These are my English titles:
Dutch American Diary 2008-2009  €15
LS Diary 2012-2013                                € 10
Bedtime Stories 2014                            €15
Mirage 2014                                               €5
Big, diaries and erotica 2015-2016 € 20
Get a 25% discount on all prices in the shop.
Select your store f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

De volgende Nederlandse boeken
zijn ook op voorraad bij boekhandel de Feeks in Nijmegen
verzending gratis v.a. € 17,50

Het Boek Benjamin           € 45
verzameld werk NL en Engels.
Het enige boek dat hier niet inzit is Witte Tijgerin, dus mijn andere Nederlandse boeken zitten hier wél in.

Mango                                 €15
coming of age novelle

22 erotische verhalen   € 15
literaire pornografie in de geest van Anais Nin

Witte Tijgerin                  €5
gids voor solitaire vrouwen die een geweldig seksleven willen en plenty energie

Love St(r)uck

I never talked much about Christopher. If I said anything to anyone at all.
He was “just” one of the many men I call friends, or dates. I saw less of him than I hoped for. Twice a year tops.
And he always paid for dinner, even though we were just friends and not romantically involved.
At least that is what I thought until the truth hit me, an hour ago.
That I was even aware of how little I saw of him, and that I wanted more, should have been a first sign that my feelings for him had been more than friendly.
But I didn’t notice.
Even now that I know I still can’t believe it.
Any of it!
I can’t believe that I missed my feelings for Christopher. 
Even though my whole life has come crashing down this summer, I failed to see the explosion that caused it. Or maybe it was more a self-destructive response where I tore my business down in frustration because I was so uncomfortable that it wasn’t doing well.
And that not being financially secure made me an ineligible partner. 

Or maybe shutting down my business was just me taking out the internal battle I was going through.
I craved for control. Something I didn’t have with him.
It was much easier to focus on realigning a business than our friendship.
But still, what was I thinking? How did I manage to miss it? 
Did I actually believe I had turned into an entrepreneur? Did I really think that suddenly, at 46 years old, I had started caring about fucking business?
Really?
Without a powerful sexual motive behind it?
Had I not learned that love made me fearless, grinning, strong, slightly aggressive, but Oh. So. Bold!
When in love I was capable of doing things, claiming things, stating things, and aiming higher than ever.
Of course redoing my entire life didn’t have anything to do with me suddenly being a changed woman! 
There is a post on this blog that I want to become the first Dutch writer (well I write in English, but I am Dutch) who makes a million a year from her writing.
And I just reread that to get the link inserted here, and that is powerful stuff!
But it’s a direct result of the energy I have been receiving the last couple of months from being in love. Without noticing it!
I was completely clueless.
Like I said, I still can’t believe it. 
I’m like: “Him? Noooooo.”
We’ve known each other for years, he seems an unlikely candidate.
We never flirt, and we don’t talk about sex. He will occasionally shake his head that I put up with Mr.Big. He knows me being a mistress is a given, but he’s clearly biting his tongue, I can see it.
And I don’t ask about his wife either. Nor do I ask him if he’s ever cheated. I feel it wouldn’t be fair, since I would like him to be unfaithful just to prove that I am right, and that married people are wrong.
There is a childish, competitive side to our friendship I suppose.
He ll say things like: “Well as long as you re happy.”
Which infuriates me because I would never say something like that to him.
Maybe the subdued rivalry towards his wife and Mr.Big were the second sign something was up. 
For almost four years now, I ve been in love with my lover Mr.Big. And I ve never felt THIS, for another man.
My feelings have been exclusive to Mr.Big.
In all fairness, Mr.Big has kind of been asking for this to happen. We do still have sex, on occasion. But our last proper date, where proper stands for planned in advance and including dinner, must have been last year already.
I felt I got demoted from mistress to booty call.
Now don’t get me wrong: I don’t mean that he’s thinking less of me. His feelings for me have not changed. 
The last time we hugged, our bodies clung to each other as if they were two needy entities who were shrieking at us:
“WHY DON’T WE GET THIS MORE OFTEN!!! NOOOOO!!!! DON’T TAKE US APART ALREADY!”
A clothed hug but a desperate hug.
So no, I know there isn’t less emotion on his side, nor on mine.
Just that apparently he can’t bring himself to make time for me like he used to. Maybe the strain of leading a double life is taking its toll on him. He might feel guiltier if he planned on seeing me, and less guilty if it’s a quickie.
As if he can rationalize it as a chance encounter, something that shouldn’t have happened.
I don’t know.
But I’ve been aware that it wouldn’t go on like this forever.
Big and me are not the breakup kind. Whenever we tried, we were both miserable and got back together soon.
If we ever breakup we ll most likely become friends. I m not expecting any drama, although that too can be a dangerous thing..
I don’t want to think of the possibility of him breaking up with me. 
That’s another possible reason why I ve been so rough with my business.
The thought that Big’s meager dating routine actually did mean something. A daunting thought. And that I destroyed my own company, so that I didn’t have to feel that.
That I externalized my pain.
Or maybe my extreme emotional behavior was caused by both of them. That Christopher and Mr.Big had been like the sun and the moon causing spring tide, when the range between ebb and flow is the greatest.
The highs are higher and the lows are lower.
I ve definitely had that going on for the past two months. 
Maybe the emotional rollercoaster will slow down, now that I ve discovered its hidden generators. The two men, with whom I try to cope by taking my business down.
I did also consider taking my own life, but that had nothing to do with them. It was on one of the two low points. One low point was a Monday night when I was clearing out my closet and found all the things that reminded me so much of my deceased cats Max and Willem. I just sat there on the couch, crying. Holding their passports.
The low point when I got suicidal thoughts was when I was sending in my application for a job everybody told me to accept. That it would be such a great opportunity for me.
I withdrew my application and the crying stopped, and so did the destructive thoughts.
But what I failed to see was that my business suicide had been in progress for a while already. Just that nobody thought I would actually do it.
Kill a business that had taken me fifteen years to build.

Christopher and me on our last date.
Like usual, he picked me up from the station, and walked us to the restaurant I liked. It was more a pub, with steaks and loud music.
But I liked it there.
On our way back, he pointed to a new high rise.
“That’s where I work now.”
It was matter-of-factly, and I didn’t believe him.
I don’t know why I didn’t.
We never really talked about work.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Yes, I know where I work.”
We walked on, and I think I even started a whole new conversation, but it kept buzzing in my head.
“Do you have your security pass on you?” I asked.
“Why? You want to go in?”
“Yes”.
And I was aware that I had just asked my platonic friend, to take me to a deserted building. If this was going to end with me being raped I would have a poor #metoo case. Maybe that’s what excited me.. 
But I think it was something else.
Because I did trust he wouldn’t suddenly turn into an ax yielding rapist. In retrospect I think I wanted to see if he was worthy, or if he would overstep my boundaries. But despite him being the one on trial, I was the one who was nervous.
Or maybe he was too, but he didn’t show it.
He got us in, and the hallway was majestic, with shops, a fountain, benches, trees in pots. Everything was closed, but it must have been a crowded place during the day.
We took a glass elevator, to the eighth floor. A floor with cubicles, where Christopher worked. Which surprised me because I had expected him to be someone who had a room to himself.

I tried to figure out if management had their own office. If it had been Christophers decision to work on the floor, or if it was company policy.
“Want to see the top floor?”
It was a neutral question. Christopher had been keeping his cool for the entire tour.
Second elevator ride, moving further up.
Just like the first time he made sure to be the first to go into the elevator, and waited in the back. Staying free from the doorway and leaving the control panel to me.
I pressed the top button.
The top floor was a large space with a modern, clean look and chunky sofas.
With a breathtaking view of the skyline.
I felt enchanted by the whole situation. The view over the city by night. The mysterious room; Christopher had not put on any lights.
He stayed clear from me, wasn’t following me around. Wasn’t playing with his phone either. I was skipping up and down with excitement, exclaiming over and over how happy I was to be there, and how great it was.
He was just smiling.
As if he knew he had passed.

<3LSH
An unexamined life is not worth living

To find out what happens next (I would like to know too!) follow this blog. The subscribe button is somewhere on the right.
Follow Twitter ; or Facebook

tenth anniversary of the book that changed my life!

Summer 2008 I started writing in English.
Dutch American Diary 
Just like now, I was in love with two men. And just like now, they were both taken.
And – yes, just like now –  I had no idea where life would take me.
This 2008 diary became the only thing that offered stability during a time where I had just left my partner after fourteen years and the two new men were driving me crazy.

A book about starting over in your mid-thirties and reinventing yourself as a lover;
As a woman;
And as a vengeful fury from hell.

Als je Nederlands bent is 22 erotische verhalen een aanrader.
Maar je kunt natuurlijk ook gewoon de hele shop leegkopen.

BOOK SHOP

These are my English titles:
Dutch American Diary 2008-2009  €15
LS Diary 2012-2013                                € 10
Bedtime Stories 2014                            €15
Mirage 2014                                               €5
Big, diaries and erotica 2015-2016 € 20
Get a 25% discount on all prices in the shop.
Select your store f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

De volgende Nederlandse boeken
zijn ook op voorraad bij boekhandel de Feeks in Nijmegen
verzending gratis v.a. € 17,50

Het Boek Benjamin           € 45
verzameld werk NL en Engels.
Het enige boek dat hier niet inzit is Witte Tijgerin, dus mijn andere Nederlandse boeken zitten hier wél in.

Mango                                 €15
coming of age novelle

22 erotische verhalen   € 15
literaire pornografie in de geest van Anais Nin

Witte Tijgerin                  €5
gids voor solitaire vrouwen die een geweldig seksleven willen en plenty energie