Lauren has grown tired of her badass mistress act, and comfortably snuggles into her new image of the girl next door. Just in time to give that exciting persona back to its rightful owner!
On my second night at the same bar – accidentally two friends had asked me on a date – the bartender brought me (underscore me!) my cutlery for my (underscore my!) pizza, and apologized:
“I don’t dare to place a second set of cutlery on your table.”
Like many bars, it had been under the impression that people enjoyed sharing food.
Which I didn’t.
On the first night, when serving the pizza, the waiter had said my pizza tasted so good, I should give a piece to my friend. And then my friend could let me taste from her dish.
I looked at him, jaw dropping, and said:
“Anybody who knows me – even remotely – knows I don’t share food.”
He had gotten the message, obviously.
The funny thing is that at the end of this second night, he said:
“See you tomorrow!”
“Noooo! Tomorrow I really won’t be here! This was just a coincidence.”
But a third friend just texted me, if I could make it tonight!
So I ll be going for my third pizza within an hour.
The reason I absolutely didn’t plan on going out tonight, was because I already had my social life covered for today. I had a date with someone I had met through social media.
This is what I thought she would be like:
At least fifteen years younger than me.
Extremely shy or perhaps autistic.
Looking up to me.
The only thing I knew for sure was that she was highly intelligent.
This is how she really was:
She threw herself at me with a kiss, apologizing:
“I m sorry, I m a hugger.”
She was the most worldly, easy going and exciting woman you could possibly imagine. And her ideas were A-MA-ZING!
I used to have a friend who was at the same level of awesomeness, but she drifted out of my life years ago. Saving the world on another continent.
This new friend made me just want to suck up every word she spoke. Her entire energy, everything.
I suddenly felt how thirsty I had been to be in the company of someone like her.
Someone like me, in the sense that she is charismatic (oh yes- I will give myself that credit!) but who actually has a life to back that shit up.
Here’s my life:
Living alone with cat, anti-social, hates to leave the house.
Here’s her life:
You try to pin that down, and you just lost.
She’s one of those people who can’t be bothered with material possessions or the safety of a relationship, and who’s on the verge of turning her whole life upside down. Always.
We did share a love for “bad” boys;
Men who seemed to have escaped from the Dutch habit of becoming completely docile in the company of their partner. I told her about a foreign girl I used to know, who had spent two years here for her studies.
She only knew three Dutch words:
Onder de plak.
Which means something like henpecked, or whipped.
And she had been totally disgusted by seeing her foreign male friends “turn” onder de plak as well!
I told my new friend that my lover wasn’t anything like that. That he bothers to defend himself, and immediately understands when he is being manipulated.
You see, I don’t like to boss around, or project my fears onto him, or anything. But sometimes I slip, and something leaves my mouth that I immediately regret.
It’s so wonderful to then “have” a man (ha! you never have these men of course!) who responds like he just got stung and immediately calls you out on it:
“Hey! Stop that!”
Foreign women, on the other hand, were usually delighted with Dutch men! Who made reliable, peaceful householders.
And my new friend and me wondered if we could trade them.
Our Dutch men to the Mediterranean countries and South America. Where they would make fantastic husbands.
And invite their bad boys to come live here with us, where they would be appreciated for their exotic, Don Juan nature.
On our way home to the station we touched on the subject of my submissiveness in bed: something she had a good laugh about.
Especially when I said I didn’t like to have normal sex where “all these things are expected of me.”
I wanted to surrender completely, and be possessed and dominated. I didn’t want any responsibility.
And she explained to me, that was probably why I had such strong boundaries. Because indeed, we had shared multiple stories (non sexual) where in the exact same situation, she had had a go-with-the-flow attitude;
And I had pushed back and successfully claimed a position of power.
The pleasure I got in the bedroom, from submitting fully to a lover, could only exist because I defended my boundaries in real life, with iron fist.
I complimented the waiter, that he had remembered that I was going to eat the pizza by myself.
“Sure. Like in Friends. Joey doesn’t share food.”
An unexamined life is not worth living
Papa don’t preach is the twenty-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.
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.
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