Preparing for Life as a Monk

I just reposted yesterday’s blog to social media, and was tempted to quote one of the sex-related sentences about this week’s much needed encounter with Mr.Big.
Although Mr.Big is a “want”, not a need.
That is the biggest difference between my love life and a normal relationship: I don’t want a lover to be a need.
Nor do I myself, want to be a need.
I want to be a want.
A luxury so luscious, only a true hedonist will allow themselves to have it.
Yesterday’s blog post, which plunged from the very neutral title “I forgot how to breathe” right down into the arms of my lover and the heart of our encounter, took a whole evening to write.
And few read it.
Tempting, to repost it using one of it’s click-baity sexual confessions.
But I didn’t.
With a real job just around the corner, daily writing has become something that needs to be scheduled in, and its time-block needs to be defended.
I used to be a yoga teacher and writing was something I could do every day and all day. As long I showed up for my night time classes.
With real workweeks pending, I have an hour every morning to write this post. And it is an hour I would rather have spent socializing my new cats, especially since they will be alone the rest of the day.
Yet I am dedicating that A.M. hour to writing.
That’s how big a Need writing is!
I will take it from the pockets of my furry friends, which is saying something because I would do anything for them.
That ONE hour every morning, needs to be spent wisely, oh so wisely.
Posting yesterday’s post with a click-baity title, is disruptive.
It does not contribute to today’s productivity.
It does not make that stolen hour behind the computer, more meaningful. Anything but.
So part of preparing for life as an employee, with little time to write, is that I will no longer be promoting these blogs with click-bait titles or quoting from the juicy sections.
But there is more.
Limiting writing to one hour, and no longer promoting my work, is just the morning routine.
The real challenge comes what to do, and what not-to-do, after I get home.
A little while ago I realized that as a teen I barely had any social life, outside school. And even less on weekdays.
I got up at 6.30, left the house 7.15; Cycled to school which started at 8.15
home around 4 P.M., a little nap until dinner.
And then doing schoolwork behind my desk until 10 P.M. , shower and be in bed at 10.30 P.M.
Every. Damn. Day.
And here I am, here we are, as adults. And this goes in particular for the ones without children, because parents with children don’t have much choice in what they want to do at night. Here we are thinking we have time for a social life.
Or to do sports four times a week.
That the evenings are there to make up for what we missed out on, during the day.
But anticipating my own new work life, I m like: Nooooo…..
Maybe one night a weeks tops, you could go see a movie, attend a social event, or in my case see my lover, as long as I m home around ten.
And make that a Wednesday or a Thursday, don’t do this at the beginning of your week.
For me, a 46 year old former entrepreneur returning to being a regular employee, this is NEW.
The realization how very little you can do, if you work full-time in a job. And how that makes total sense, if you compare it to the monk life many of us (not all!) had as a teenager.
Nights are not for partying.
My entire life is going to change so drastically.
From being a yoga teacher having the entire day to myself, for dates with Mr.Big, for writing, and so on;
To leaving the house at A.M. and returning around dinner.
And then the evening is dedicated to doing yoga for an hour, publishing my books for an hour, and then to bed 10 P.M. in order to get up at 5 A.M to write.
A monk’s life, that’s what it is.
I recently read an interesting blog about creating a sex positive life.
One day was for writing smut, another for masturbation, and so on.
Maybe that’s a way to make something interesting from my evenings, I don’t know. Squeeze in a daily 30 minutes to do something sex-positive.
Because it seems like despite acknowledging that after 15+ years of being an entrepreneur, I choose the stability of a normal job and income so that I can focus on creating my art and publishing my books:
I still can’t see myself settling for living this monk style life!
I just don’t see it happening.
But then what, right?
The first job I saw, or could see myself having, which I encountered this week, was so much fun, and so cool. And I do expect I would be able to work from home largely, and be flexible in my hours in case I would go for a daytime date.
So that makes it easier to see myself working, without having to go full-on monk style.
But in general working a normal job is far from what I m used to, and I still have no idea if I can do that.
My peers have spent the past 20 years living that way, and I ve always given them props for that.
But can I really do it?
I m not sure. 

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

About this blog

Is the sixth chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 3: Submission

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

I forgot how to breathe…

What happened between me and Mr.Big this week, almost got lost in pre-employment stress of Oh My God I Can’t Share This

I think I tried everything.
To stop diary writing.
To stop writing all together.
To write whenever the mood strikes and let writing take until the post was ready. Which usually meant it hijacked my day and kept me behind my computer for 6 hours minimum.
I tried writing for 30 minutes.
Which including editing, and finding a photo always turned into one hour.
Which turned into two.
Which turned into however long it took, and brought me back to:
Stop writing all together.
And the diary writing, the personal life: Oh, the things I ve tried and decided, to feel better!
In order to preserve the good, to enhance it, to create a whole world out of the times I saw my lover Mr.Big.
And then the moments of doubt and anxiety for feeling like oversharing. As if I would not lose him every time, if only I could conform to secrecy instead of writing about our time together.
As if my loneliness was a punishment for writing.
And then the coaching and teaching yoga!
From offering it, to not offering it, to offering it only under my real name (and not this one).
I have a draft of a yoga program (a two hours blog post +) and my coaching program for the Dutch market is still up, as well. Neither one I will be posting or selling anymore.
Because everything changed last Monday.
And then today it changed even more.
Last Monday the decision to stop making my living as an independent and get a normal job became final. And I immediately stopped my yoga channel under my real name.
There was no point in making yoga videos as promo material, and it simply wasn’t a part of my purpose work.
For the first day, it was just that.
But then yesterday night I went to a social event, and I received this powerful vision on my new life as a writer. And I was literally counting out the hours I would have for my purpose work, at the start and finish of every work day.
I had not drawn any major conclusions from that – because there was time to write and do yoga next to a job.
But then this morning I started a blog post, yet didn’t finish it.
And I also recorded the same My Life in Bon Jovi songs video four times.
Until it hit me what was wrong:
I felt vulnerable sharing my personal life, and in particular on YouTube.
I had no idea if I would be able to apply for jobs, or do my work, if I set the bar so high in my personal life (being a secret mistress) that I had to write about it, in order to stay standing.
Maybe, taking a job meant I had to stop doing that.
Maybe I needed to become normal in my private, and sexual life, so that I didn’t need to write about it.
But then this is who i am.
I know this.
And I know that especially if I have a job, I need to stay in touch with my inner world. To sit behind my computer and “breathe”.
To let whatever comes out, come out, typing away on the key board.
So after the fourth take for my YouTube, I decided to quit YouTube entirely, and focus on my writing.
My real purpose work.
To stop wasting time (over-) sharing myself in YouTube videos, when it would already be hard enough to do my writing AM before work, or at night time.
So I made that final YouTube video, my farewell, and thought I had “solved” it.
Until the stomach ache, the doubt, and the anxiety that I would go down the rabbit hole of my inner world every morning, AND THEN – face the world.
Would I even be able to do this?
Was it really just as simple as deleting YouTube, to focus on my purpose work, writing?
Then why was I feeling so, so bad?
Why did I title this blog post:
I forgot how to breathe?
And then during the typing of this blog post, something that my coach Sara has said to me months ago, popped back to mind.
The job is there to support the creativity!
Not the other way around.
I repeat: NOT the other way around.
Months and months ago, when my insights in wanting a job were far from the firm decision that it is now  – Sara already pointed out not to fall into the trap of compromising my art, in order to fit into a job.
And here I was, feeling shaken after my “big” YouTube fall out at the thought of still having to share myself on this blog..
I felt daunted, by the idea of doing the only thing I love without question. Without payment, without recognition, and with a message that just oozes from my pores on a daily fucking basis;
To write.
Getting personal.
Going DEEP.
I genuinely thought that in light of getting a job I was forgetting how to “breathe”, how to write. Afraid that I would not be able to do it because at 8.30 I would see people.
Colleagues.
But no, Sara was right.
Aside from the sheer impossibility that I would forget or could skip, something that comes as natural as breathing – I DO only have room in my life for a job  that still allows me to do the art.
This post was me writing myself into a solution.
Remembering Sara’s message is soothing, and I will keep it in mind. Somewhere in the front.
But I also want to share here, right at the bottom of this blog post, hidden almost, what happened between Mr.Big and me, when we made love.
The story I tried to tell in this morning’s draft post and four times over in the video that I did not post, and deleted all versions of it: The story how we got back together.
It had been two months since we’d last seen each other. And it had been one of those times where I had been uncertain if he’d even want me back.
Or if he’d just let our affair die out..
I knew this was part of the agreement, part of what we had. That I put up with the periods of silence, but it seemed as if this had become a new normal.
As I remembered it, in our first year, it never happened.
In our second year it may have happened twice.
In our third it became frequent and ever since the final 18 months all I remember is dropping into that zone of not knowing, every time again and again, after seeing him.
And every time I promised myself I wouldn’t buy into my stories of drama.
I would sit it out.
I would trust.
And yet every time I had to break word with myself, and worry. Worry so much that it would be over.. Until we saw each other again, and I was happy.
Most people understand that this pattern leads to a better, more exciting sex life. Something we did have in the first two years. Very much.
I never fantasize about sex with other men, because Mr.Big is tied to my deepest darkest fantasies, in a way that I m beginning to think no man will ever be.
Even if I m in love – I m beginning  to doubt my ability to enjoy being with another body than Mr.Big’s. If another man’s attention, focus, and love making skills will ever be able to satisfy me.
Is it ever fair, to make love to someone else, as long as I m in love with Mr.Big?
The older I get, the more I m leaning towards:
“No, that is not fair. Your body and mind only respond to Mr.Big.”
So most people understand that this pattern, where I have to keep the faith for months on end sometimes – influences our longing and our sexual desire.
But what they don’t understand, and maybe that’s also because I have not verbalized this explicitly – is that if the test has been this heavy, the time period this long, and if I have missed him so much and have been on the point of believing he will never return?
You don’t just hop back into having sex.
You are not crazy with lust for each other, and my body seems to carry all the mental scars of feeling lonely and rejected.
Of feeling abandoned.
My mind can survive, and I know I need a terrible amount of stress and strain, in order to even feel something, sexually.
Rationally, I understand I m better off having this problem, than having the same man sitting next to me on the couch for nights in the row.
But the body cannot be reasoned with.
And Mr.Big understands that. That despite me accepting that I don’t see him as often as I would like, that he needs to start from scratch with me, physically.
He excels at comforting me, making me feel safe.
He asks me, what I need to relax.
If I want to hug, we hug.
If I need to cry, I cry.
If I want to spoon naked in bed together, we do so.
And he will do all of those things without initiating more. He will never press for anything, not even the remotely sexual: All he wants for me is to feel good.
And if that means we won’t have sex, we don’t have sex.
As uncompromising as he is, not attending to my needs in the weeks and sometimes months in between, that’s how devoted and patient he is, when I m there with him.
He can give in two hours, what I would get from a normal man in two weeks.
So this week’s reunion was not a sexual, pushing-the-boundaries-of-civil, adventure where we could tick things off our bucket list.
It was sensitive, emotional and deeply satisfying both on an emotional as well as on a physical level, because I came multiple times.
My orgasms just came effortlessly.
And he had one but just like always, he waited until he could feel I was fully satisfied, and it was in a perfect melt-together moment of union.
Those were all things I tried to share in the video, which ultimately led me to the decision to cancel my entire channel.
Those were the things I didn’t want to write about, because the thought of sharing myself like this, suddenly scared me, in the light of my future career.
But writing this blog post has brought me so many insights.
That Sara was right – the job will be there for me, to support me creating art.
And also, and unfortunately for everybody perhaps, my sexual relationships but even more so my internal world, will always be this complicated.
YES, I will always need writing to balance them out.
NO I can’t stop, because I cannot live in this dark, and often very lonely mind, without releasing into this blog.
And there was a third thing I started realizing as I was writing this blog.
That this is sacred.
This is when the magic comes through.
A leaving of the world, into another. And with my time with Mr.Big being so limited, and my suffering so deep, this writing is therapy.
Writing this blog is a daily one, or a two, or a six hour release.
And it’s a bare necessity.
Just like breathing.
 

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

About this blog

Is the fifth chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 3: Submission

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

For the cheaters, the promiscuous, and the polyamorous: You are loved and you are needed

God, that was just in time.
I honestly thought I would have to write about an entrepreneur who got all worked up about people needing to put their talents to use to serve others.
And then me getting all worked up about that.
There is a Dutch saying: “Acting from trying to do good, will lead to the ending of the world.”
But I was going to rant about the man’s limited (and dare I say protestant?!) take on Life, without quoting proverbs that do not hold up in translation.
Okay, I just deleted an entire paragraph of hostilities.
I was led astray by the devil, trying to tempt me talking about climate change and the number of children you can have and raise in a Western country, times their ecological footprint, and still claim your Life is in service of the planet.
But NO!
Go away you devil!
I will do MY THING!
What I came here to do on this earth.
Which is to provide clarity and a deeper understanding of sex and relationships.
So when this morning I saw a discussion about the acceptance of polyamorous women, on social media, I bettered my devious ways and jumped behind my computer for this, my purpose work.
Because work needs to be done!
Clarity needs to be given!
And I am not exaggerating when I say that this post has the potential to wipe all of society’s lack of appreciation for the polyamorous people from the table.
In a swift two-thousand word go.
Because why is it, that in 2019, we STILL treat polyamorous people as something that requires an explanation?
Getting in a 100K debt, requires an explanation.
Three divorces, requires an explanation.
Loving or having sex with multiple people, however?
Requires none!
No explanation to yourself, not to your partner, not to society.
And you can be as open or as secretive about it as you want.
Just like loving multiple people at once is something that is part of your own unique sexual makeup, so is your desire to talk about it, or to be open about it.
This is not how it works:
Person is honest about sex -> good person.
Person tells lies about sex -> bad person.
Providing we’re talking about two consenting adults, this is how it does work:
Person has sex or does not have sex, and may or may not be honest about that -> good person.
The flaw, the misconception, that is the basis of all misunderstanding and under-appreciation of polyamorous people, is the idea that they’re cheating.
Breaking the rules.
That having multiple partners, is something we’d ALL want!
That when given the chance, when we’re unleashed, we’d all be running around having sex with everybody.
And that monogamy is an agreement between two people, who suppress their sexual urges, and in exchange do not have to “suffer” the loose behavior of spouse or partner.
These are not one, but two wrong perceptions of reality!
The first, that we’d all run around having sex with everybody when given the chance.
And the second, that we are hurt when our loved ones are having sex with other people.
Both are so untrue it makes my eyes hurt.
It’s almost as untrue as the entrepreneur’s dogma that you have to use your talents in service of other people, or whatever it is you re doing is immoral.
It is the simplicity of thinking that is hurtful here.
NOT the act of the doers, in neither of the two cases:
It’s not the doers, the people who use their talents merely to please themselves, who are wrong.
Nor the doers, the people who “run around having sex with everybody”, who are wrong.
So if I despise this simplicity of thinking about polyamory, then what?
Starting with the myth that underneath our Christian upbringing we are all supposedly sexual omnivores:
Two points I want to make.
First off: Sex is NOT easy.
It is not something you “run around doing”. People need to actually want to have sex with you.
Just look at the whole Incel debacle to understand that wanting sex and getting it, are two different things.
To be an attractive sexual partner, requires impeccable social skills (and having fun using them!), and a capacity to focus, give attention, make the other feel loved.
Be TUNED IN!!!!
And connected.
All skills that are highly sought after, and complex. Running around thinking with your dick or pussy, is not going to cover it, period.
Sexual relationships are upon our most complicated forms of human interaction, and they deserve to be credited as such.
The second thing that you need to have, and this is inborn I think, before you can enjoy having polyamorous relationships, is that you actually need to enjoy sharing yourself with multiple people.
I know because I am a mono myself, and I don’t want to share myself with more people.
In times of sexual scarcity, whether within my own relationship, or because I m single, I ll give it my best shot and try and be less picky.
And if I am ever in love with more than one man, and they both want me, I m not going to force that into becoming a mono-thing.
But that’s effort!
It (having multiple partners) would be a huge strain, not something that comes natural, and that I just wish the world would allow me to have.
So these two aspects already indicate that we’re not all polyamorous people underneath the Christian veneer.
Being successful as a polyamorist requires both the talent to manage these encounters or relationships, as well as an ability or preference to enjoy them.
Sex is NOT easy.
The other aspect or reason polyamorous people are called out to defend themselves, is that it is assumed they are “takers”.
They have to defend themselves because they are taking from “us” (the monogamous people), and they are hurting us.
If they are honest about it, and wave around the Polyamorous flag, then we can forgive them.
Maybe.
If they waved it soon enough, before we fell in love!
But if people do not come out as desiring or having multiple partners, then hunting season is open.
When the truth is, as stated before, they are just being themselves.
They cannot change who they are.
Like I said: It requires both skill and a preference for multiple partners to even be good at this whole multiple-partner game.
It’s not like you accidentally land your dick in somebody. On repeat.
Just ask any Incel.
But more importantly -and this is HUGE!!! – they’re doing us monos a favor.
Just imagine having two people, both monogamist pending asexual – like me.
Having a relationship.
Who s going to take care of the levels of sexual energy there?
The excitement?
The NOT knowing the other completely that makes sex so exciting and new?
No one, that’s who.
Put two monos together, and unless they both come with the predisposition of getting highly turned on at the romantic thought of their partner only sharing themselves with them?
Sex is going to die out.
Sex is going to die out in any classical, monogamous, long-term relationship, the moment your eyes do not light up at the thought of your partner being exclusive to you.
Which – by the way!!!- is something that you are also allowed to ask for if you yourself are not monogamous!
If you’re a polyamorist, but you get highly turned on by your partner being yours? Go for it.
Ask it.
Having a monogamous partner is not a reward for keeping it in your pants.
It’s a personal, sexual preference.
But I m drifting off.
I was talking about the pitfalls of monogamous relationships.
So the ONLY monogamous relationship that is ever going to work is this:
Both partners get turned on at the idea of sharing themselves only with that one partner. Like I get aroused sharing myself only with 1 man.
But also: Both partners get turned on at the idea of their partner only sharing themselves with them. Like Christian Grey in 50 Shades of Grey being aroused at the idea that Anastacia is his, and his alone.
If BOTH partners have these double monogamy preferences?
A long-term relationship can work brilliantly, and be sexually interesting for life.
But.
In ALL other cases?
The batteries dying out is coded into the DNA of the relationship. Because SOMEBODY has to recharge the batteries.
SOMEBODY has to make sure there is sexual energy to share.
And if you’re both at home making lazy ass agreements “hu hu, we’re going to be faithful because we’re married and Christian and GOOD PEOPLE!”
Fine!
But no one is going to recharge anything and your sexual spark is going to die out, while you re staring it in the face.
Totally unnecessary I might add.
You did it all yourself.
Because you demonized the polyamorous people.
The partners who would have taken responsibility for their sexual battery being charged, often without you knowing how they keep it in such mint condition.
They can be very discreet you know.
And then all you have to do, is appreciate them for it.
Trust your openly or dormant polyamorous partner and say the exact same thing I said, last time I saw my lover:
“You know what I love so much about you? That I have no idea what you’ve been up to.”
And I ve shared my fantasies with him.
That I would love to take care of him, after he has been with someone else.
If it’s someone he feels less familiar with than with me, anyway. (otherwise, these things would not be my task)
It’s a fantasy that has not come into fruition.
But it’s this:
That he comes home in the middle of the night.
So very tired, but satisfied. Hungry. Maybe slightly drunk.
And he’s had sex.
And I am allowed to take care of him.
Bathe him, feed him, put him to bed assuring him he is so special to me So deeply loved. And what I don’t say is that although he may feel really bad right now, kind of shaken, he has recharged our sex life.
Our batteries.
That this will profit us both, bring pleasure to us both, in this mono-poly relationship.
A unique agreement, in which we both only do things for our own pleasure.
But the Universe just works it all out in a way, that as we do that, we also take care of the other.
I of him.
And he of me.
Maybe that’s what I would tell that entrepreneur:
It’s impossible to know how you can be of service to others.
So don’t try to serve others.
Use your talents for your own pleasure instead.
Do the thing you CAN do, and that you’re gifted for.
Foreseeing how everything will fit together is a divine talent.
Not a human one.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

current events!
daily vlog My Life in Bon Jovi songs on YouTube

About this blog

Is the fourth chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 3: Submission

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Your art is not your business

“When you learn to trust yourself implicitly, you no longer need to prove something through your art.
You simply allow it to come out, to be as it is.”
– John Daido Loori (The Zen of Creativity)

Yesterday I had the joy to be reminded of the way normal people do things.
About the best practice in the industry of coaching, entrepreneurship, and even art to an extend.
Or maybe NOT art!
Maybe that is the whole thing – these sensible ways of doing things, only come into play once you STOP seeing what you re doing as art!
But as a business instead.
As something that can be learned, done correctly, and then the results will come.
I m not going to look down on people who can “build” a business (business? Life!) this way. And especially not on those who can combine it with their creative endeavors or spiritual, intangible talents.
Good for you.
I am incapable of doing that. And in the words of Vincent van Gogh in the movie At Eternity’s Gate:
“Believe me, I tried.”
If I mastered an inauthentic way to make me millions?
I would not hesitate to use it.
But the problem is:
I do not master such a skill.
And these attempts to earn far less than millions even, have cost me money, time and energy, AND have kept me from doing it my own way.
A way which may not have brought me anything, in a worldly sense, but at least it would not have been completely wasted on doing something that wasn’t me.
A term that really spoke to me, was “Renaissance Business”:
It’s for people who pursue multiple interests, and especially the ones who have them simultaneously. In my case it’s writing, thinking, yoga. It’s tempting to add entrepreneurship, but I see that more as an expression of the other three.
Technically even the writing is an expression of the thinking.
I m a Thinker and an Expressionist.
But let’s get not too abstract, and call my skills writing, thinking, yoga.
So a renaissance business, is based on a desire to apply all of your talents. It’s not based on market research, not on a niche, and not on connecting with your target audience.
In a renaissance business you’re not going to moderate your talents, sensor them, turn them inside out and tie a bow to them;
Until they start making you money.
It would be both undesirable as well as next to impossible. Either because you’re offering your talents separately, for example consultancy and photography. In which case you d have to do market research on two markets, and communicate to two entirely separated (and made-up!) audiences.
Which is practically impossible, not to mention excruciating and awful.
OR
If you re offering a new product that combines your skills, for example consultancy through photography, it’s impossible to be considerate of what your target audience wants to see, and what problem you will be solving for them, because your service is unique.
So even though the term renaissance business, refers to people having multiple talents, it makes it clear that authenticity, and authenticity alone, is the fastest, the purest, the no-fail road to making any business work;
Because it is the ONLY business you ll never regret having.
An expression of your true self.
In the conversation I was having yesterday, it became clear to me (and I was very happy with this knowledge!) that I behave in exactly the opposite way, when it comes to what I ll do for an employer.
Now there are limits to this.
Best described as “the Lighthouse Effect”.
I am a very dominant woman. And this annoys in particular (if not to say exclusively!) the people I don’t give my attention to. Which explains why I get haters just walking the street and minding my own business.
So.
Although I would love to change that for an employer, to fit in and accommodate their vision of where the company is going, which may not include big lighthouses: All I can do is turn off the light.
Which, let’s be honest, isn’t going to do much good.
If I turn off the lights, I m a huge tower doing nothing – which will be even more annoying- but I m also of no use to people looking for the shore, or trying to determine where they are.
I have not suddenly transformed into a handy flashlight.
Instead I ve become completely useless.
Now what I can do, is give the signal that matches with where we are.
“I m not an evil lighthouse,” I said to my friend yesterday. “I m not going to signal we’re on Texel, when I m standing on Vlieland.”
Referring to two Dutch islands next to each other.
But aside from those, let’s say physical limitations, I don’t have any moral obligations or pressing desire to “be myself” when somebody else is paying me to work for them.
It’s almost like I ve completely compartmentalized my approach to making money:
My own business is an expression of the real me, which will not be altered, filtered, or adjusted in order to speak to the people/market/niche.
But at the same time I know it is this business, that will last me a lifetime and that will grow into a sustainable income from people who love my work, and who will buy (or at least tolerate! 😉 ) whatever my renaissance mind comes up with.
In my opinion, one fan of my renaissance business equals the value of an entire year working for an employer. And that’s without them actually buying anything!
Having, building, creating my own business, will always be the ultimate way of taking care of my soul and long-term work satisfaction and income alike.
It’s the ultimate self-care.
But.
When it comes to being of value to a company, or working on a contract: I want to give them what THEY want.
And I can explain why I think that me working my strengths is going to pay off, but ultimately, it’s not my call. It’s not my business, what they want to sell or how they want to sell it.
Once you start working for a boss, because your own business is not making money currently or maybe never, or maybe you don’t even have your own biz:
It’s time to stop doing it your way.
So then? YES! Aim to please!
But in your own biz?
NO!!!
I know there are a lot of people “managing” their own career, and doing their job in a way that develops them and I m like:
Naaaah.
Not for me.
I think what I m really doing, or what became clear to me when we were having this conversation yesterday, and I think we were both surprised – if not appalled! – of how easy it was for me to see myself adapting to my environment;
The reason WHY I think playing by the rules, and doing all the things you’d never do if you were in charge, is a good thing if you’re on a payroll:
Because then you re in line with the authenticity of that company.
You re aligning yourself with their identity, and the way it flows there.
You’re letting what comes naturally within your work environment, come out. All by itself. You re not altering it.
You re being that same instrument of God, of the Universe, and let the message and the vision for that place and time that you are working for, come out!
So it was a very interesting conversation to have, with my friend.
Because at first it’s weird right?
Why would you/ I be so resistant to being a little more client/market friendly when it comes to offering my own services – and then become successful at that, and not even needing a job!
And then at the same time I would completely adjust to however or whatever it is, that the company I work for does.
It doesn’t make sense to be a 100% me in one place, and far less me, somewhere else, and feel good about that.
But now I understand.
And I think it could be helpful for others too:
Let what you do be dependent on who you’re serving.
If you re serving you re clients, you do market research.
If you re serving your employer, you tune into that.
And if you serve God, you call it art.
And if you have your own company, you can either choose working for the market, at the expense of expressing yourself and building an authentic business.
Or you can say:
No.
I m serving God.
And all I do is allowing it to come out.
And to be as it is.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

current events!
daily vlog My Life in Bon Jovi songs on YouTube

About this blog

Is the third chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 3: Submission

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

4 mental kinks I didn’t know until I was over 40

I titled this blog post mental kinks, because I don’t want to disappoint anyone who thinks this post is going to have anything to do valley orgasms, massages, or G-spots.
It doesn’t have anything to do with anything physical.
I would be capable of having a reasonably satisfying sexual relationship without physical proximity.
Maybe I m just indifferent about the physical aspect, until our entire sexual game has already been played mentally.
Sex is a bonus at the end.
Not a starting point, nor a prerequisite.
I discovered this difference when I was writing my Dutch erotica, and to a lesser extend my erotic stories which I published in my diary Big.
They were never straight up sex stories: They all had some level of pain, sadness, or shame involved which in turn highlighted the pleasure and the intimacy.
But what I discovered when I was already over forty, was that my sexual preference didn’t just have to do with emotional depth.
It also contained four mental layers, kinks or preferences. Some of them I had to name myself, because I had never encountered them.

1.I m sapiosexual

A sapiosexual feels attracted to someone’s intellect, rather than their physical appearance. The reason I managed to miss this, was because the men I fell for were attractive, physically.
But in hindsight, I can vouch for all but one, that they were really smart.
The one I m not sure of was very young. There was so much going on between us. He triggered so many insecurities in me, that I was not paying attention to his intellect.
But I guess it’s safe to assume that only a very smart 19 year old can trigger a 36 year old erotica writer.

2.I am submissive

The reason I missed this, and I elaborated on that both in yesterday’s blog post Submission as well as the video I made about this, is because the word submissive is best known from SM relationships.
SM has a few characteristics that are very specific to SM. Such as pain, humiliation, punishment. And I m not into any of that.
But now I can say:
Yes.
Absolutely, submissive to the bone.
If I need to be active, take initiative, need to pull out a box of tricks to make him want me? There’s no way that’s going to work.
Either you want me, and you say “Would you like to go out on a date with me?”.
“Want to come upstairs?”
“Care to take a shower together?”
All specific proposals that I can say No to, and that involve you running the risk of being rejected.
That’s the way it’s gotta be.
And you will be rejected at some point, and then only a true dominant knows how to respond gentlemanly.
Can’t miss.

3.I love consent play

It was tempting to place this under I am a submissive – but there is a nuance here. The dominant-submissive relationship means that the dominant takes responsibility for their time together.
He is the one who connects to the submissive to see what she needs today.
In consent play, they uplevel it, and she/ the submissive gets a chance to play No, when she means Yes.
They could do a role play in which he takes advantage of her, but he knows she’s enjoying it, because he’s so tuned in.
Or they just fantasize together, about what he’s going to do to her.
Whereas in SM the submissive agrees with the dominant, in consent play the submissive gets turned on from playing No.
It also requires a dominant who’s interested in playing on this boundary of her consent. 

4. I m a mono-polygamist

Mono refers to that I like choosing one man. In theory I could choose two or three men, if I was in love with all of them and they with me.
It’s not a moral choice that I choose one man, excluding others.
It’s a preference because I like sharing myself with only one partner. It would be really difficult for me to have multiple relationships. Not impossible.
Poly, means that I want “my” man to have sex with other women.
This is related to the submissive thing: I need to be a WANT.
To feel wanted, a trait all submissives share.
And if I m the only one he has sex with, I feel I ve become a need.
I m not pro-open relationships, because of the talking that is involved. I think communicating about a relationship is highly overrated, let alone communicating about relationships he has with others.
I trust he has them in a way that pleases him.
End of story.
The only thing I ll do, every now and then, is let out a soft sigh, look into his eyes and say:
“What I like so much, is that I never know what you’ve been up to.”
And then he pulls me close, with a grin:
“I know.”

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

About this blog

Is the second chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 3: Submission

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

My video series My Life in Bon Jovi songs is posted on my YouTube

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Submission

The reason I chose this picture is because I couldnt find an appropriate one of a dominant man. Not without getting myself into trouble anyways.

Thirty minutes, excluding looking for a picture, but including editing, posting and sharing on social media.
That’s how long I will spend writing a daily blog post and that’s ALL it will ever be.
Until death do us part.
Us, in this case, is me and my imaginary master and lover Writing, with whom I have been for thirteen years.
The final six months had been a monogamous relationship until the six hour blog posts had robbed me of my days, my friends, my Life. My income.
It was no longer sustainable, and I ended what we had.
For good.
Bye bye writing, I love you, but I just can’t.
You’ve become too demanding, and you’ve taken over my life. Which would be cool if you could provide me with food and shelter in return. And we could afford cats.
Then I would forgive you the isolation, and the way you have been straining all of my friendships because of the blogging.
But given the circumstances I just can’t forget what you’re costing me.
I ve lost many friends, and I am looking forward to being normal.
But then something happened.
No: Two!
Two things happened.
Basically within a week after ending things with Writing, I could feel my strengths decreasing. Writing had put me in a place of power, and although I was fine with quitting exercising power through writing, whether it had been unconsciously or not, I had not foreseen the ACTUAL loss of power.
That not being behind my desk doing what I do best, was like Samson cutting off his hair: A very bad idea.
I solved that by starting a video series My Life in Bon Jovi Songs, which is running on my YouTube.
“Being” LS Harteveld (my pen name, and unofficially also my most real name) in front of the camera, and telling the same stories I would normally blog about, I got access to the same energy as when you, Writing, and me, were still together.
And for two weeks I did feel like I had made the right choice. Or “right” was not even the correct word! I had made the ONLY choice I could have made!
Writing six hours a day, is not sustainable if you re not providing for us.
Period.
It was hardly out of free will, more a survival instinct. We had been heading for a life of poverty, even homelessness.
You had left me no choice.
But even after I started making videos, and I reclaimed the version of myself I had been with you, there was this male voice, husky and tempting:
“Was if you lose me?
What if I, Writing, move on to somewhere else? To someone, my Love. And when your fingers hit that keyboard, three months, three years from now, or maybe even three days from now; Nothing comes out.
There will be emptiness, where I once was.
Will you regret it then, not giving your life to me, my Love?”
And I said to writing:
“I want you back. I love you, life without you is driving me crazy.
Today I made a video about submission in relationships, and all I could think of was you. Well, you and Mr.Big my lover, but definitely you too!
And I realized that’s what I had liked about you and me. Us.
That you were demanding and that I could submit.
I will submit to you again, my Lover. I will be with you thirty minutes a day.
And write myself into submission.
That’s how it will be.
My Love.”

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

About this blog

Is the first chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 3: Submission

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

My video series My Life in Bon Jovi songs is posted on my YouTube

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Newborn Mata Hari (Mensa member) calls for duty

A highly-sensitive narcissist, on the autism spectrum.
That’s how close I got without knowing what I know today:
Which is that I m more of a Mata Hari, than a psychiatric patient.
Although one does not exclude the other, obviously.
Running by the three earlier observations:
1. Highly sensitive
I can see right through people and the dynamics underlying social situations. To me (almost) everybody in the room is naked, and I m the one pretending they’re not, because I know that they don’t know I see this.
And I don’t want to see it, either.
I remember a friend once pulling me out of my bubble, asking me what I thought of a couple with children, I had diligently been avoiding looking at.
She was studying them, and it was obviously far less excruciating for her than for me.
And she called me out, asking what my thoughts were.
“They don’t want to be together. The parents are hiding behind their phones, and they’re annoyed with the children because they’re not playing along with the facade.
They’re projecting everything that’s wrong between them, on the behavior of the children, who are painfully acting out their unconscious feelings.
There is a possibility those are not his children.”
My friend was offended that I was “seeing too much into it”.
I was offended she had pulled me out of my bubble for something she was obviously not ready to hear.
It was one of the few times we had an argument and I never made the mistake again of telling her what I knew.
2. Narcissist
The only professional psychology test I ever got, did show I had narcissistic tendencies, but other than that I have no proof that I am one. I started studying them, because I suspected the men I was dating of having narcissistic tendencies.
And that it was the part about them I liked.
So that was the original reason I came into contact with the disorder. I particularly admire their war tactics: Something I call mirroring.
Narcissists use your own fears against you.
The way they do that is by an abuse now commonly referred to as “gas lighting”. And victims of gas lighting or narcissistic abuse, as it is also called, write entire books on the subject.
I browsed through one, but immediately tossed it aside the moment I saw the deplorable level of counter measures.
How you should say things like:
“As long as you’re shouting at me, I m not talking to you.”
Which I thought was ridiculous.
High-level gas lighting, does not include yelling. It includes YOU yelling!
If you still have to be educated on garden-variety verbal abuse, you won’t even stand a chance when a real narcissist gaslights you.
I have a rule: first one who yells loses.
First one who shows emotions, loses.
Now this is not the way I like to win.
I expect someone to have control over his feelings and be calculated in his responses. So to me, that you have someone facing you, who is verbally abusing you YOU ALREADY WON!
YOU might be the gas lighter of the situation!
I don’t care if an entire book on gas lighting says otherwise, but giving tips on how to deal with someone raising his voice and being verbally aggressive, means you re on a winning streak.
Still identifying as the victim, means you have no idea how this game is played.
It’s thoughts like these, that made me realize that although I think gas lighting is obviously abusive, it’s also a genius way of winning a fight.
In case you wonder how gas lighting works, it’s like this:
What a narcissist does is that he or she makes you aware of something that you deeply desire and want, or something you think you’re entitled to, by not giving it to you.
This could be anything:
Love. Money. Their allegiance. The truth.
Your rage is your frustration that they’re not playing your game.
Yet what it should be, is a moment for you to reflect on how badly it is you want this thing. Because it’s making you vulnerable for manipulation.
The only thing the narcissist has to do, is mirror that attachment back to you.
You can call that abuse, but I call that sheer brilliance.
My appreciation of narcissistic abuse skills, made me realize it was very likely I was one of them myself.
3. on the autism spectrum
My autistic side isn’t not being able to interpret other people’s emotions, since I m obviously very skilled at that.
But it’s in not having the skills to manipulate them. Or perhaps not having an interest in it.
Sometimes, when someone is really intelligent, they depict that in a movie as mathematical formulas popping up over a shot of the real world.
That he or she can see the physics behind what we perceive as reality.
This is the closest way to describe how I see the world too, and what my talents are: I can see the underlying forces that determine the outcome.
But what I can’t do, is influence them.
At some point I can tell exactly what the problem is, but not how to solve it.
And I m left wondering if I (or the other person, if I do it for someone else) wouldn’t have been better off not knowing.
This is my autistic side, I think: I m not able to translate my model to behavior that allows you to change the underlying dynamics that are causing the problems.
So 1, 2 and 3 were as close as I got over the years.
And they were able to explain for a lot of the problems I was experiencing in life, and in particular the feeling of disconnectedness.
Disconnectedness can come from all three of these things:
High-sensitivity.
Narcissism.
And autism.
To me, and I know this is not everybody, but to me almost every social interaction is burdened with so many loose ends. I always end up feeling shaken, and it takes an hour or more to process it afterwards.
To let things fall into place.
The biggest mistake I have made in the past is not seeing this as a given, and thinking there was something that could be said or done to make it right.
An email, or an app.
But there isn’t.
Obviously, if things are really serious you should not leave them up in the air. But the eerie feeling after parting, is the residue of human interaction.
It’s taking on the guilt or responsibility for what you might have caused, good or bad, in the other. And processing what the other has touched in you.
If you try to sort that out by a simple text “Hey! Still thinking about you! That was fun.” it only adds to the confusion because you re expecting the other to reward you by sending you a response. And the work of processing it doesn’t get done.
An app or message can even entirely derail it, afterwards!
I used to experience it only after sex, or in the context of dating. That icky feeling after saying goodbye of something just not being quite right.
A desire to know you re still on the same page.
But don’t!
Don’t text!
Instead give it time to pass.
What you can do is start a new project, or focus on your planning for the upcoming week. Take a few hours off and do something fun (alone!).
Anything to bring the focus back to yourself.
So as you can see, I ve always tried to explain myself.
In this post I ve elaborated on labels from psychology, that might apply to me, but I ve used many things.
Astrology, where I let my strong Scorpio ascendant explain my dark sides.
Myers-Briggs, where I was misdiagnosed an extrovert (ENFP), but then rediagnosed an introvert (INFP) and that explained for many things.
I’ve tried on the Enneagram, Gretchen Rubin’s four tendencies test, Energy Profiling by Carol Tuttle and so on.
And every one of these brought me something.
Just like using the terminology of psychology explained for a lot of things.
But what I did not see until yesterday, was something that flawlessly delivers an explanation for 99% of the whole bunch:
My intellect.
My brain is like this superpower that processes everything you throw at it, and then it spits out a model, a formula, an explanation.
I really am the Good Will Hunting of social interaction, where I can see things others can’t.
Not because I m paranormal, highly sensitive, autistic, a Scorpio or a 4 or a 7 Enneagram.
But because I m brilliant.
I have no idea if I would qualify for Mensa, and belong to the top 2% based on my IQ. I ve never gotten further than around 125, and that was not even an official test, but me and a friend using library books.
So it’s not that I m going to pretend I “know” I m highly intelligent by any official standard. But if I view things from the perspective, of me being highly intelligent, I m done.
The strongest argument for this, is that my disconnectedness vaporizes the moment I m talking to someone who is traditionally highly intelligent.
And I feel even more at ease, when I am with someone who is equally skilled as I am, in seeing through social situations. So that I can be honest on why I m not attending an event or party and say:
“I m sorry, but there are so many issues going on in your family. I don’t want to be the lightning rod that everybody becomes fixated on.”
And not have to resort to half-truths of me being an introvert and just not liking parties.
So although I have a click with anyone with a high IQ, it’s in particular when they’re really smart socially, that I feel comfortable around them.
They understand my choices to stay away from situations where I have to navigate around everything I see happening without stepping on any toes.
And that it’s excruciating.
I can’t say I never have issues with intelligent people. There can be conflicts of interest. For example, I am a mistress, a sexual preference that makes it ideal for me to be the secret lover. It also makes me the natural enemy of many married women.
I respect that.
But it’s only when they feel threatened by my intellect when it becomes dangerous.
Because in general intelligent women do not try to protect their men. They’re not that jealous. They’re like: “If he wants to go, he’ll go. There s not much I can do about that.”
So even that antagonist position I m in, is not that much of a problem, as long as they are not intimidated by me. As long as they stand their own ground, we’re fine having a conflict of interest.
And the other way around:
When I m technically on the same side of people who do feel threatened by my mental powers, it doesn’t work. Total disconnect.
Passive aggressive gossiping and sulking from their side, and frustration from mine of “Why are they not getting that I m on their side!”
Because me having brains is enough reason to feel threatened, that’s why.
I feel I am like Mata Hari:
Someone whose intellect and ability to understand complicated political structures was beyond belief. And she even hid behind the same sexual mask as I do.
She was an exotic dancer and I am a mistress.
But in the end her ability to profit from her talents was limited, and she was killed because she had become a double spy who knew too much.
Maybe that’s what I can learn from her:
With a mind like this I should only play on one side.
Mine.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

My video series My Life in Bon Jovi songs will be posted on my YouTube

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

About this blog

Is the twelfth chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 2: 
Always eat the marshmallow

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Damn… The crush on Jon Bongiovi I did NOT see coming.

No, key thing here is not the looks.
We’ve been wrong for three decades, Ladies.

There were a lot of things I was expecting, when I started this new YouTube project.
It was called:
My Life in Bon Jovi songs.
so naturally I expected a wild and exciting trip down memory lane.
In particular to the eighties.

Memories of the boyfriend who looked like Jon Bongiovi, had already been making a speedy comeback since I bought the ticket to this summer’s Bon Jovi concert.
And memories of attending my first concert at 16 years old (Bon Jovi 1988);
Sure, all to be expected.

But I knew Bon Jovi had also been a part of my nineties.
I had kept following their music, but I had moved it to the background.
In 1989 I made a hard switch to Guns N Roses.
Now hold on! In my defense, the Jon Bongiovi boyfriend had split on me:
All records we had been listening to together were tainted.

I had to move up, to a place where I could reclaim my own identity, somewhere he wouldn’t follow me.
Guns N Roses was that place.
I actually received a letter from him, that he liked that side of me. He’d obviously much rather have me all badass and angry listening to Guns N Roses, than the wrecked girl I was when he broke my heart.
Maybe because of this appreciation, I went “away” even further. Guns N Roses could stay, but I added Megadeth, Death Angel and Queensryche too.

All musical blocks I placed between my former boyfriend and me, that screamed:
“Go away! Take your new girlfriends which will no doubt be dumped after three, four months just like I was AND BE GONE THY DEVIL!”

In the early nineties I ran into him: my feelings for him were gone.
Guns N Roses had done its cathartic work of reshaping me.
In 1994 I let all hard rock go, and became a Madonna fan.
For life.
But what I failed to see for a very long time – actually until the recent Guns N Roses concerts here in Nijmegen!- is that it was never Madonna’s music that I was a fan of.

It was HER.
She helped me to reinvent myself, just like heavy metal had helped me to become my own woman.
In 1998 Madonna created the album with the most guitars on it: Ray of Light.
To this day, that one is my favorite.
And to this day, if I put on a Guns N Roses record I come to life. I start breathing. When Guns N Roses played Nijmegen a few years back, I put on Appetite, probably for the first time in a decade or more.
Hearing Slash’s guitars in the Welcome to the Jungle intro?
MAN! Hello LIFE!!
My heartbeat went up, and I quit my job as a yoga teacher after 15 years.
Or at least that’s one way to look at it! LOL
But yeah, that music really brought back my former strength. 
But I wasn’t expecting that type of impact, listening to Bon Jovi. Not at all. Maybe because the music was still contaminated, too much associated with being hurt so badly.
Or maybe because, as opposed to Guns N Roses, Bon Jovi had been making new music.
They had put out so many records, and I had not even listened to any of them since 2005, 2006.
Maybe I felt guilty. I don’t know.
Anyway, when they announced they were coming to Nijmegen, I bought a ticket and about 80% of all the records I was missing.(oh I know about Spotify. Doesn’t count. I wanted CDs!)
I was pleasantly surprised by their latest record, This House Is Not For Sale.
I m now a few months further along the road and I haven’t studied their music as intensely as I would have liked. But something else happened.
The yoga studio which I basically tried to blow up after my Guns N Roses burst of power, kept coming back to me…

Three times I tried to stop my work as a yoga teacher. I even resigned my company from the Chamber of Commerce.
But it kept boomeranging back to me. 

Now I can see why that was.
Because to me teaching yoga, being an entrepreneur, and being a writer are all linked. They’re all part of Me, Creative Me. I can’t cut the parts that aren’t making enough money, and replace them with other more monetizable activities.
Doesn’t work like that.
If I want any chance of a happy life I need to keep being a yoga teacher, AND an entrepreneur, AND a writer (obviously).
No cherry picking allowed.
So I kept the studio, registred my company again, and teach on YouTube (under my real name, not LS Harteveld) and I teach privates.
And in all honesty, I ll just get a real job, if that doesn’t start paying the bills. But I won’t stop being an entrepreneur/yoga teacher/ writer.
And I ll live happily ever after.

The moment when I was at my yoga studio for the first time in months, and I put This House is Not for Sale in the cd player, that was fricking magic.
I set each stone and I hammered each nail
This house is not for sale
Where memories live and the dream don’t fail
This house is not for sale
Coming home
I’m coming home
So in retrospect that was the reason I didn’t actually dive head first into catching up with the ten plus years worth of Bon Jovi albums I had missed.
I was too busy saving myself.
Getting my life back on track.
But yesterday, I felt light and I knew the time had come to do this!
And the project My Life in Bon Jovi songs came along.

I made a video on You give love a bad name, and today I started mapping out all songs I wanted to cover.
Counted the days until the concert, the number of episodes I intended to make. It was fifty-eight.
I created a playlist with all albums from Slippery when Wet until This House is Not for Sale, with the intention to keep culling it until I had my 58 favorites. How hard could that be?
58 Is so many, many songs!
So I started listening, and immediately had my First of the Mega Epiphanies.
Listen to this song:
No.
Wait.
PRETEND you’re a fifteen year old girl. You have successful, but fearful parents who tend to be on the overprotective side. So naturally you’re scared too.
You like boys, but feel incompetent at getting one who’s interesting, and “up for the job” so to speak.
You like the pretty boys.
You ALWAYS like the pretty boys…. the macho men. You may be a virgin, and you may not be the most popular girl in the class (You have friends but in general girls or girl-groups are of no interest to you) but you know these boys everybody says are players, will break your heart.
And also that they’re the only ones you re interested in.
You don’t care about the prize.
There is no way you’ll ever settle for safety, over the magnitude of your feelings when you’re really in love.
But you’re 15 and you’re barely even properly kissed.
Part of you is starting to lose faith, that you will have the sex life, the boy, the LIFE you deserve.

Everybody seems so used to life being grey, filled with 80s angst…
And then, you buy a Bon Jovi album, basically because you like their first two singles, and you put the cassette in the player.
And you hear
THIS
Let it Rock.

!!!

If there ever was an over- the-counter-sexual-awakening available, it has to be the Slippery When Wet album. And in particular it’s in that first song, that motherfucking build-up that even a virgin can feel in the parts of body that aren’t even touched yet.
In retrospect I think it was my own dormant sexuality that resonated with Bon Jovi. I honestly didn’t understand (to a degree, I still don’t) why not everybody was a Bon Jovi fan. Or if you don’t like Bon Jovi, then why not everybody was a fan of something heavier.
But now I have a theory:
You have to have to be able to deal with that kind of sexuality, those feelings being drawn out of you. I love that. Still do. The biggest problem between me and yoga, was that I like the energy going up.
Not down.
Rise, rise, rise, and then we lick the flames and ride the waves. Feel we’re alive.
At my most controversial moments, I would share what I will see as my most honest yoga message:
That if you can have sex instead of coming to yoga, I don’t even want to see you in class.
That’s rooted there, in my sexuality as a teen. It’s rooted in Let it Rock.
Okay, so that was my first big epiphany, that I realized I had found my sexual power in Bon Jovi songs.
But the second one was….wow…. I don’t know how to say this?
And this is not just a Bon Jovi thing, I ve made this mistake over, and over, and over again:
To think there is something as falling in love with someone’s looks.
There is always more.
Maybe for other people (men?) there can be such a thing as lusting after someone, but there was so much more to Jon Bongiovi than what met the eye.
I can’t blame myself, not really, for not picking that up when I was still that young.
The roles between us were very clear:
I was the teenage fan, the young girl.
And he was the idol, the rock star who traveled the world.
He was ten years my senior, so even from that perspective, there was no way this could be viewed as something “real”.
But in selecting the 58 Bon Jovi Songs of my life, I encountered many lyrics I had never heard. And since December (when I bought the ticket) I ve also been listening to their album presentation from This House is Not for Sale:
An intimate one-off concert in a theater, with a lot of talking, in between the brand new songs.
By Jon.
So before I started going through the hundreds of songs, to select the ones I would use for my series My Life in Bon Jovi Songs, I had been “prepped” by this concert, the album presentation.
Which is almost like a confession, a redemption, a rebirth.
It was Jon looking back on thirty years and everything that had passed.
He didn’t talk about how he singlehandedly saved the band in the early nineties.
When all five members, burned out by years of touring, were starting to turn on each other.
Jon stepped in.
Fired all management.
Appointed himself boss, put all others on the payroll and hired therapists to help them talk through their hurts and patch up the mental wounds ten years of building their band and touring, had inflicted.
What a brave and at the same time incredible sad move to make. To have to make. To realize that either you’re gonna step up as a leader, or your life’s work and everything you’ve build will be torn apart, with all parties bickering over it.
The second crisis was in 2013 when Richie Sambora left the band.
Neither one of the two events was named during the album presentation, but plenty of other stories were.
And I think it was mostly the vulnerability in Jon’s voice that really struck a cord with me. Clearly uncomfortable doing so much talking instead of singing, the nerves added to the realness of it.
The rawness, of this man pulling his band, his friends, all the way from the early eighties to December 2016.
And as the bandleader he had to live with the mistakes he made.
It was the most moving Bon Jovi performance I ever saw.
So I was familiar with their present work, and their current mood (nourishing memories, holding things together), when I started going through the material.
But nothing could have prepared me for what happened.
And this is something I could have known because I had heard actor Rami Malek say this was how he studied Freddie Mercury for the movie Bohemian Rhapsody:
By going through his songs.
Rami spelled out all lyrics and he had been captivated at how close he could get to Freddie.
How honest and transparent he had been. All that time.
That’s exactly what happened to me, listening to Bon Jovi.
How emotional it was.
It’s not that I m ashamed of being aggressively into Guns N Roses, and worse, after my boyfriend left me. Statements had to be made, bridges had to be burned, and strong measures were needed to learn how to back myself and not get crushed by the heartbreak and my overprotective parents.
And then I m not even speaking of the need to distance myself from my peers at university where I was studying Technical Management and Business Engineering, and everyone was Just. So. Bland.
I understand what happened there.
Bon Jovi left too much room for interpretation.
It wasn’t blunt enough.
But going through, I don’t know, three-hundred songs, some of which I had never heard before, what struck me was that the topics Bon Jovi was singing about were remarkably consistent.
The power of friendship, family, your own past.
Love for women, sex, and guitars.
There seem to be multiple affairs that made it to paper, because they left Jon feeling shaken and confused.
Record after record, from songs like Wanted Dead or Alive to The Scars on My Guitar, there is a terrible amount of love and vulnerability going on.
And what happens when someone shows you their heart?
You show them yours.
In hindsight my crush on Jon Bongiovi never had anything to do with his looks, and everything to do with what was underneath.
As must have been the case with my teenage courtship with his look-a-like.
If there is anything I ve learned already, after only filming the first of the 58 videos on my YouTube, it’s that there is no such thing as getting over someone.
No such thing as moving on.
Matters of the heart cannot be undone and their roots run a lot deeper than most of us are comfortable with.
Except maybe for Jon Bongiovi.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

My video series My Life in Bon Jovi songs will be posted on my YouTube

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
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with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

About this blog

Is the twelfth chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 2: 
Always eat the marshmallow

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coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

How I pretend I am *insert kitty*. How I really am *massive decorated skull*

Today I was at The Fuzz, and a friend took this picture of me.
We were talking about me kind-of aspiring getting a real job, but then not-really.
Or really not.
Me wasting an hour writing an email for a job as a host/spokes person, then deleting it, and deciding that I just wasn’t ready.
Not for the normal jobs.
You see, the problem is, that I ve just reestablished my yoga business.
My rebooted career as a private yoga teacher, starts tomorrow.
Last week was fully dedicated to recent cat developments; After stay-over cat K, I will have two new permanent feline residents Z and F!
So I haven’t done any of the marketing activities I thought I would do.
But yeah! I AM A YOGA TEACHER AGAIN!!
Then why am I also looking for a job?
Why am I so NOT backing myself on this one?
It disgusted me, it really did. But the photo also illustrated to me, what I had failed to see: That I was overtaxing a side of me, that was actually really small.
See that kitty in the right bottom corner?
That is my monetizable side.
That is the caring, loving, child-like emphatic side. The popular side, also.
The little kitty is what I am under my real name.
Now, see the massive skull, towering over me?
That’s my inner world.
The me under my pen name, Lauren Harteveld. This is far from a mask: this is the real me.
The writer, the thinker, the rebel, the wise. The real me is a mighty ally but an even mightier foe. The one who defies all danger because she knows death and she is not afraid of it.
The only thing that keeps me from it, are my cats, which is why I came dangerously close to death in 2018.
So if there is anything within me, of which I ve got plenty, and that I can monetize without giving away anything I have a scarcity of, it’s her.
With my private yoga practice, I m already sharing the little kitty side of me.
The only thing I ve got in spades, is the real me.
The skull.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

About this blog

Is the eleventh chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 2: 
Always eat the marshmallow

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

When doves cry. Why I m pulling back this coaching and yoga biz.

I really wondered how I was going to tell you.
That it wasn’t working for me.

And although I don’t regret just going for it, and making my first coaching offer Saturday March 9, and my first yoga offer on my Dutch Harteveld site only four days ago (!) things have changed.
And I did not see this coming, although in hindsight…. yes, I could have.
Let me start with a small recap:
I ve been a writer under pen name LS Harteveld since 2006, and I have ten books out. Four new ones are snuggled up somewhere in my computer, because I have not been seeing them a lot, lately. So for the past 13 years I ve been a writer and a publisher.
But I m best known locally, as a yoga teacher under my real name. 
I ve been teaching group yoga from 2003-2018 when I quit my business because it wasn’t making enough money. I didn’t seem to have the stamina to save my business by (also) teaching privates.
My heart didn’t seem to be into it, I don’t know. It was all a bit strange.
Perhaps because making the switch from groups to privates turned out to be about a lot more than just a new business model. A lot of stuff came up. 
About the nature of yoga, and about my own nature (being an introvert). I felt guilty over a variety of things.
For having executed such a profession, that I seriously questioned.
That yoga was energetic micro-management compared to just letting your passion and your sexual juices flow, and step out of your post-Christian box of what’s right and wrong.

That was one of them.
But I also felt guilty (and this is contradictory) both for being an introvert and therefor always feeling bad after teaching – like you ve given everything, yet were unable to connect with anyone specifically in a group setting, and therefor go home feeling shaky and vulnerable.
Yet I also felt bad for not having been able to make the studio work and save their group classes, or at least not on the schedule or locations that they preferred.
It felt like I was letting them down times triple.
My principal concerns.
The introvert thing.
And ultimately not being able to offer continuity.
That continuity, and offering the same thing year after year, was one of the major reasons I looked forward to dropping it, didn’t seem to matter. All I felt was this massive guilt and shame.
So when I started fresh, here under this name, where I would teach about the macros of energy management, and unlocking the big pots of energy and not just the cups, I was serious about picking up coaching and teaching yoga as LS Harteveld.
I was looking forward to it.
But two things happened, almost simultaneously.
It was a slippery slope that started almost immediately after creating the coaching offer, and ended yesterday, when I made the decision to pull back my yoga and coaching offers for LS Harteveld.
The first thing that happened in this month, was that
I created an offer teaching yoga privates under my own name.
The coaching offer had sparked this!
Don’t ask me how that works, but apparently designing a no holds barred coaching offer for women under your identity of choice, LS Harteveld, leads to feeling inspired to start teaching the sweetest, cutest, version of yoga imaginable. Under your real name.
I referred to it as Fischer Price yoga, because it was childlike and innocent.
And I found myself looking forward to that, than to coaching or teaching privates as LS Harteveld.
Even though I had been claiming for months what I really wanted was to connect with people on the big stuff. Not on the “yoga”, which I deemed superficial.
It didn’t make sense AT ALL.
I had paved the way to go all in, coaching and teaching on the Sex Is Life And Success Thing (that was not the name of my program, but perhaps it should have been) and then I find myself looking forward to start teaching Fischer Price yoga?!
So that was an unexpected setback.
And the second one was:
I started to feel awkward sharing my true message.
The idea that I was now a professional coach and private yoga teacher, was holding me back from doing what I normally do, on this blog perhaps, but mainly on Twitter.
I felt super-conscious when I interacted with porn stars, something I had never felt weird about when I was “only” a writer.
But positioning myself as a professional on the same exact ideas I had written about for years on end, came with a kind of responsibility that I didn’t want.
I wanted to be free.
I didn’t want to make any money as a coach or yoga teacher, as LS Harteveld. It felt just as constrictive as being a yoga teacher under my real name had felt, those 15 years.
So I decided I would turn it ALL back.
This week I will clear all my accounts, rewrite all my bios, delete all my sales offers, until there is only one thing left:
This blog.
The one YOU are reading right now.
I may keep the Dutch blog on, should the mood strike ever again to write in Dutch.
Same with my YouTube:
I ll keep it on should I feel the urge to make a video.
But I don’t expect it.
And yet I also know I will need this account, these blog posts, more than ever.
That I will write, more than ever.
Because now that I have to keep that other account all Fischer Price, all light. Where else would I turn but here, to speak about the unspeakable?
The things that shake you, make you feel weird and insecure?
I have doves on my balcony. Originally I made an effort to chase them away, but the male stayed, and I gave up.
I even reversed some of the measures, so that it was a better hiding spot, and his girlfriend returned as well. I didn’t like her very much, maybe it was jealousy. But if the male liked her, that was all that mattered.
I wasn’t going to be a cock blocker.
Then last night she didn’t come home.
This afternoon I saw her. She was limping. She used the water I always have for them here. The seeds I give them each morning were already gone.
I felt bad for her, she looked like she needed saving.
After she left, and for unknown reasons, I leaned over the balcony to inspect the other balconies, or the building. I don’t know why I looked.
But I saw one balcony with spikes. Spikes designed especially to keep doves from landing on the balustrade.
It made me sick to my stomach, thinking how it must have wounded her.
And that I couldn’t do anything about it, except make her stay comfortable.
I started cleaning their corner, so that it would be more hygienic. I know dove droppings are dangerous, but I didn’t care. If God wanted me dead because I was taking care of his beings it was fine by me.
I cleaned the water.
And I realized that if people were paying me to be happy, and childlike, that I was in need more than ever, of a blog where I could share the nitty gritty painful stuff.
As tears started rolling down my cheeks.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

Nederlandse boeken kun je ook direct bij mij bestellen

About this blog

Is the tenth chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 2: 
Always eat the marshmallow

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.