Author: LS Harteveld

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

Dear Sara,

It all started with the serial realization that I want three lovers.

Not one consistent thought, but serial, because it is something I have been claiming on and off for over a year yet I kept backing off, thinking things would get too complicated even just agenda-wise.
But after not having thought about it for months, suddenly the desire surfaced again, and on a moment I could use a good story to give the conversation a little extra, so I told it to someone else.

But in the days that followed I discovered it was more than good entertainment. The desire didn’t fade and it didn’t get crushed under anticipated practicalities. In fact it got brighter and gained definition.
From a concept, it grew into a 3D project that I could spin around in my mind, viewing it from all angles.
And threading it through my years, months, and weeks.

Weaving my life around these three lovers created a symphony of performance art, where I was in every play, but every time with a different co-creator.
Who, maybe, was doing the same thing, but with other women.
And I was a co-creator in his symphony too.

I saw a future where the past encounters with my former lover Mr.Big, had been lifted out of the eight years we saw each other, cleared of their content, and the empty shells, the dating capsules, were now rearranged as building blocks of a new and far more sophisticated “art form”;
A string of dates weaving three lovers and me together.

The quotation marks around art form stand for the fact that since these dates do not have an audience, according to some definitions, they are not art.

In their new format, these encounters were no longer staged around secrecy because we were having a secret affair;
Now the cadence of recurring events in exclusive pockets of time, vacuum without interaction with real life, would become its own universe in which three intimate relationships could co-exist.

This realization in itself, was huge.
What I had truly desired all along, and every time I had jokingly or casually brought up the subject of wanting multiple lovers, was to be the one who HELD these three affairs.
Who UNDERSTOOD and ORCHESTRATED them.
Who MASTERED them.

I wanted these encounters to sing, to vibrate, to blossom, and yes also have no holds barred, intense, irresponsibly hot sex.
But there was definitely a hell of a lot more to it than just “I want three lovers”.

Although sure, if I was looking for a cool conversational topic, it could always be rounded off to that. 

After I had established this three-lover thing was indeed a genuine artistic and creative desire – and would probably become my best work, a spot now reserved for the 8 year long affair with Mr. Big – the idea started expanding in three (!) different ways.

First of all, I started realizing that if my longing was in fact to be the holder of this art project, more than it was to experience its contents (the dates co-created with my three lovers), then I could and should, start right now!
So I will be blocking my calendar for days when I am offline, and could have a date with a lover.
This time will already be dedicated to them.
And if I do not have a date, I will choose an alternative, which is largely to be decided. But the general concept is that the day should then be dedicated to something that comes the closest to a date with someone you are in love with.

So the first epiphany was that this art project is starting now, because it is about becoming the lover, and not about finding new lovers.

The second way things started expanding was that I realized this was not exclusive to my love life;
This covered EVERYTHING!
In all areas of life, things feel stagnant until I translate it to BECOMING.
I want to be the person who can hold (space for) the job, the rock star clients, the millions in my bankaccount, the penthouse overlooking the city.
In other words?
It ALL starts NOW!
Because all I was ever interested in, was in being the person who’d be able to handle that. With grace.

And the third way things started expanding, or perhaps rooting is a better verb, was that I gained a deeper understanding of WHY I was so drawn to wanting to be able to hold these big and complicated relationships, and to take on these challenging responsibilities;
Because it would force me to root deeply into myself.

The emotional storms, the unpredictability of relationships, the heaviness of the demands of the world;
It can only be withstood by someone who is grounded into something deeper.
Or connected to something higher.
Either way, it is the territory of humans who have found their anchor in something beyond the physical plane of existence.

And this can be rooted in values, an alignment with purpose, a base in religion, or the execution of a mission.
But the only way to receive big material success and other abundance, and be able to hold it with grace, is to know where they fit into your bigger picture.
To be the creator and the holder of that bigger picture, instead of being overpowered by its different elements.

All in all, the juice story that I was looking for three lovers is unravelling into a longread greatly extending modern day attention spans.
But it is, to me, also pointing to what should be the focus of my attention, the pillar that is going to do all the holding, lifting and creating of these new experiences;
My body.

And I honestly have no idea how, because I have been a writer for 20 years and where I started ripped and lean, over time the writing intensified and with every year I was less in my body.

In theory I know how to reverse it; Less or no writing, and prioritizing yoga and cycling or walking instead.
But in practice?
How do I switch from having been a writer for almost two decades, to training my body like a performer?
And in the year 2025, when I already have to cut deeper and deeper into my writing because of other obligations?

It feels so brutal to start prioritizing taking care of my physique, and to not write, including to not post. Because posting has been the reward for writing.
Posting content has become the fix I learned to crave.

I know, in theory, that so many people take excellent care of their health, working far more hours than me.
But to me it feels unfathomable to pull back from being visible online, and seeing myself as a writer or a content creator (since I m already shifting to videos).
But there is a catch, or a loophole:
For the past five years the majority of my work has been under my own name, and not under Lauren Harteveld, the alterego I started about two decades ago.
And I am okay with that;
Although I consider this/ Lauren’s work my best, it was tied to my first surge in my love life. The transition from being in longterm relationships, to discovering myself as a single (and ultimately landing on the identity of the mistress)

But times have changed and even IF my sexlife picked up, I would no longer publish or use those stories online, in a blogpost.
I created a post about the terms of agreement, that I would run by a new lover. Consent has become more important, and the stories will only be published in book-form with a minimum of two years in between the date when it happened, and the publishing.

So Lauren Harteveld, the diarist, basically already quit what was once her best online work anyway.
Because the storyline stopped (relationship with Mr.Big ended) but also because the online world has become much more transparant.
A blog is no longer a place of mystery.
So “she” no longer fancies blogging about her love life, and I have long been contemplating ways to keep her in the creative loop, but she’s just not interested.

I jokingly say to people that although I AM Lauren Harteveld – meaning that is how I feel when no one is watching, it’s what feels like truly, deeply, me- the truth is, she would not show up in any of the normal-life situations.
“She only lies in bed eating grapes, waiting until the sex begins again,” I explain.

So bringing it all together, wrapping it up, the picture is quite clear actually!
Just like Lauren Harteveld the writer, was “born” two decades ago
– when I entered a new phase in my love life and the first thing this shift accomplished was inspiring me to start writing-
In the same way, in 2025, I will let my path of becoming this deeply rooted Lover of 3 dictate the artform that goes along with it.
Or no art form at all.

All I knew, all those years ago, was that I wanted to fall in love, have many first kisses, many first times, with new men.
And I understood this meant I was not going to accept regular relationships but instead would explore and experience what it was like to BE a single woman.
Turned out, this included writing, but it was in a time I was a fulltime yoga teacher.
So you could say the physical part was already taken care of…..

Come 2025, and I know I want a life with three lovers.
And I understand this means I will be exploring and experiencing what it is like to BE someone who can carry that.
I think this will mean I will stop writing and start training my body, and my mind to become stronger and more robust, in order to hold my own weight.
Well, and theirs 😉

And I don’t have the time, but what I do have is one Lauren Harteveld, who has been terribly unmotivated to do much of anything once her sexlife stopped.
And she’s getting tired of eating grapes in bed.

If I get her to take on this project of BECOMING the woman who has three lovers, as well as all the other things;
I think she’ll choose the performative, physical side of it to be the focus of her work. Her body to be the foundation of her new life.
Our, new life.

But regardless what she chooses, I do already know one thing;
Lauren Harteveld, my alterego, will do an amazing job.

She’s got this.

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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

Dear Sara,

A few years ago, something happened in my personal life, that changed the course of it.
There are very few people who know about it, and those who do seem to think everything is okay now. And I guess from a worldly perspective it is. It is now better than it has ever been, yes.

But that’s not counting that I am no longer connected to anyone. I’m incapable of human connection, or maybe it’s more that I am now aware that there never was any connection to begin with.
I am alone.

A realization that I have always been alone, yet wasn’t aware of it. Even though I have memories where I was 4 or 5 years old, sitting on the monkey bars with a few other children thinking:
“I do not feel any connection, and am sure they do.”
I was performing connection, and amazed that the other children seemed to have real skin in the game.

And I remember my youth, including puberty, being great. And that makes sense because my heart wasn’t in it.
The only times I “failed” at keeping my cool, was if I was in love, which explains why I have always made my love life a priority. It was the only area of life I truly felt alive. And sex one of the rare moments I felt connected.

But when I was in my late 20s, and after successfully dodging the pitfalls of many social expectations, I unexpectedly got sucked into them. And from an angle I had not seen coming.

Looking back, you could say the event from a few years ago, was the rude awakening I needed.
Now I’m back to where I always was; Alone.

But the process wasn’t easy.
It has taken years to breakup with my former lifestyle, the event was just a tiny part of it. The Great Untangling had actually started years earlier. From the very first signs until today, writing you this letter titled A Dark Chosen One, it was a decade.
A whole decade!
Before everything and everyone not standing in their raw unfiltered Truth,  and able to sit with me (or otherwise engage themselves with me on the monkey bars 😉 ) was gone.
A decade, to clear the jungle gym of my life.

Now don’t worry, I still have people in my life. People I love and respect, and my relationships are better than ever (yes). But I am no longer giving my heart.
It’s just no longer available, which is fine because that’s how it always was.
Just that I forgot. 

I’m not going to burn myself speculating if real relationships and connection do exist for other people, or if they’re just mistaking love for patriarchy and other capitalistic structures that promise a tribal belonging, but are actually just golden cages. Capitalizing on your dream of freedom by having you dig your own financial and legal grave.
But I just made clear what it looks like from where I am standing.

I remember when I told someone I was toying with the thought of connecting more to the spirit world, the realm of the unseen in the broadest sense because it’s totally unknown territory to me, and I feel it has so much potential.
And they replied, understandably, that they always shunned away from that because you have no idea what powers you’re dealing with.

And I thought: “We have no idea what powers capitalism and patriarchy are, yet no one shuns away from getting a mortgage.”
If I was standing in front of two doors and one would lead to shared finances and the other would lead to hell, and would pick hell any day.
Also: way more interesting people there.

So broad strokes you could say that from a very young age, I have felt different. And that all grown up I still have fears that are vastly different to those of other people.
Two more examples:
I remember when the pandemic started and the first two, three weeks, I actually detected a feeling of excitement within myself. Of adventure. Realness!
I really thought that in the face of sickness and death, the mold of decorum and  pleasantries would be broken and real connection would be possible with many people!
Only to conclude even less people were able to have a real conversation.
Second example:
A while ago I coupled the word apocalypse to a topic I thought I had lost interest in. So, for example (this wasn’t the actual thing), “Learn to love even during the apocalypse”. Only to realize much later this wasn’t a revival of this topic of interest;
It was in fact only the apocalypse, I was interested in.

Final example!
I used to live in a house in an area that had already been evacuated because it would be demolished. I absolutely fucking loved it….. The apartment went from great, to unforgettable. All the houses around me were empty. The street was empty and everything was pitch dark.
It even had the superintendent worried, when I had never felt more at home…

And if I envision the rare and unlikely scenario of a natural disaster or a war here where I live;
I already know for an absolute fact I will stay where I live now. Maybe get a dog and a gun for protection, but I will not evacuate, and I will sleep like a baby.
I am fine with death, and I am fine with loneliness.  

And if that ever happens – which of course I hope it doesn’t – then I will have proof for what I am beginning to understand. Which is that this is all connected. 
The isolation.
The loneliness.
The aversion to being swallowed by the system, or by a marriage.
The monkey gym at age 4, knowing I did not belong with the others.

Destiny.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living