Lauren wants to be eligible so badly, she offers to make the ultimate sacrifice.
And immediately regrets it.
Tuesday September 11, 2018
I’m writing this in my notebook (paper) in my favorite cafe. It’s actually a hotel but that makes it sound all posh, and it’s low key.
I always write on paper when I m on location, because I don’t have a laptop.
They say writing by hand stirs up deeper emotions.
Should I write more blog posts by hand first? Would it improve my writing?
The reason I m here at the cafe, drinking wine and writing, is that I ve been going through a 72 hour meltdown after I stepped away from being a tell-all diarist and sex blogger.
I offered a certain gentleman, it may have even be several, that I could do it.
Be a good girl and stop spilling the beans on my sex life.
Which inevitably is an our sex life.
I even suggested that I might be able to stop my work as a mistress expert, in order to please or to be good enough.
But just the thought of it resulted in my current crisis, so I was wrong. I can’t offer that at all.
It is hard to put a finger on it, why I m responding like this.
I always saw my pen as a weapon, something that allowed me to date dangerous men. Men who were not just out of my league, but out of any woman’s league.
Because these dangerous men cheat.
Either literally, by putting their dick in more than one woman.
Or emotionally, by not being available, not committing, not offering transparency of any kind.
These are the men that leave women heart broken and their lives destroyed.
Ironically, these voracious men are susceptible to 30-something women offering them salvation as a husband or a father. The slate will be wiped clean and all their past wrongdoings forgiven.
It is only when you see how quickly these men say yes to becoming a husband or a father, that you realize how eager they are to be saved from themselves.
Those are the men I date: always on the brink of something.
Of getting serious.
Of winning a woman’s heart.
Of ripping it out and feeding it to the lions.
There’s always something up.
And that’s why I write, because it allows me to date them. I am the sole teller of the story. I monopolize the truth, even when it’s a lie.
Even if a man doesn’t allow me to write about him, then I rewrite the truth of my own emotional state. As if I knew what I was doing all along.
So the pen still does its work of manipulating, claiming, embellishing.
But my last time sex with Mr.Big changed all that. We were so intimate that for a moment I longed to put down my weapon, my pen.
To never write another word about him or any other man.
I wanted to be naked and vulnerable, from this moment forward.
I wanted the thrill of knowing I wasn’t holding anything back, and the pleasure of surrendering fully.
Either I would stop being a writer and reposition myself as a mistress expert. Someone who had been a secret mistress in the past, but whose current love life was no longer public.
Or I could take it even further and stop writing for LS Harteveld altogether and curate my work, publishing books from material I already had.
LS Harteveld would die.
Those are the emotions Mr.Big’s love making drew out of me. That I was done trying to make sense of my love life. With him, with Christopher, or perhaps even other men, about whom I could never write.
If I would stop writing, give up control, the situation would automatically sort itself out. I so longed to be passive, to lay down my arms.
And I did.
I wrote the man who had told me his concerns about my writing, that I had been toying with the thought of quitting for a long time.
Which was true.
I had been thinking about quitting writing from the moment I realized I wanted a second lover. But I expected it to work in my advantage, regardless of how my love life played out.
But that was before my 72 hour meltdown. Now I know I was wrong offering him I could quit.
It doesn’t even have anything to do with me needing a weapon.
The reason I should never have offered to lay down my pen is the same reason every writer has. Because writing is how I breathe.
Without it, I don’t exist.
LS Harteveld may have started out as pen name, so I could write about sex and relationships without having it associated with my real name.
But that is no longer the case.
Over the past twelve years, I have become the writer LS Harteveld.
If she dies, then so do I.
An unexamined life is not worth living
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.
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.