The Sexual Alchemist

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

Dear Sara,
.
Yennefer in The Witcher

I found myself just not being okay with adding a picture of the real alchemist of the series The Witcher;
Which was “Giltine” played by the actor Julian Rhind-Tutt, who I know as Mr.Pimms from the first Lara Croft movie.

But Giltine played by the actor Julian Rhind-Tutt was the real alchemist, not Yennefer whose picture I used.
Giltine was the one who transformed all young witches into what they wanted to become.
In that respect, Yennefer was only the subject of the alchemy.
In exchange for her womb she went from having a dislocated spine and jaw, to being breathtakingly beautiful.
.
So if I really wanted to write about being an alchemist, I would have to illustrate this piece with Giltine, Julian Rhind-Tutt.
But I couldn’t do it, Googled Yennefer’s transformation instead, and then the memories came back.
Of who she really is.
.
Not just the most powerful mage from The Witcher series, but also the most sexual one.
Even when she was just starting out in magical school, she was sexually active, and very sexually independent.
.
She could really enjoy the physical benefits of it, and if my memory serves me correctly, she has two other lovers later on, one of them being The Witcher himself.
.
So although she had been transformed by a male alchemist, her being so rooted in her sexuality as well as being so powerful, does give me permission to use her photo.
.
And in fact, this aspect of her reminds me to start this story at the beginning, when I just like Yennefer felt disformed, out of shape, lonely, and yet I picked up this offer from the man I am corresponding with.
A man I call The Saint.
And he proposed a challenge where I would masturbate daily.
That is the short version, in reality it was a very detailed and well-thought through plan, that the average sex coach could have charged for.
.
Just like Yennefer said Yes to the beautiful man who wanted to be her first lover, without questioning it, I said Yes to The Saint without questioning it.
And the reason we did, is because we knew that regardless of the intentions of the other we had more to win than they did.
And more to lose if we didn’t.
We knew we would get something out of it, that went beyond what they were doing.
.
I took up the masturbation challenge, and went from a meager once a week, which is dangerously low for me – to killer orgasms on repeat.
It took a couple of days of muscling my way through it, but by then I had upleveled my orgasms to a strength that I have not experienced since I stopped the pill in my early thirties.
It was absolutely unbelievable.
.
And my creativity, in terms of writing, also shot through the roof as soon as I had said “Yes, I ll do it”. 
.
So those were already two big benefits, which I could tie directly to saying yes to the masturbation challenge from my anonymous letter writer.
.
Finding the photo of Yennefer and remembering how sexual she is, reminded me that a lot had happened before the moment that gave me insight in my identity as sexual alchemist.
That although the short-cut story:
“Oh I saw my ex and then this-and-this happened, lol, sexual alchemist right, duh?!”
would have made a good story in and of itself, provided it had been penned down in a less Beavis and Butthead way, that was not the whole story.
There was a reason meeting each other had been so great, and the reason was there had been sexual alchemy going on for days before he contacted me.
.
I committed to the challenge one week ago, on a Saturday night.
And next to my daily masturbation plan, which I had gotten from my anonymous friend, I picked up writing for this blog again.
.
I also did something else:

I decided this would be the week I would get over my lover, and start identifying as a single again.
Purge all that needed to be purged.

It had been 11 months since he had broken up with me. Last summer we tried to have sex again, but I paid for that with headaches and there were also other things I could just feel not being right about the whole thing.
Which had to do with something I have not written about, but I will, since I now know how essential it was.
.
He broke up with me in December after having been my lover for 5 years.
The reason for the breakup was something that was going on in his life, which required him to focus.

You could also say that guilt over having a mistress was simply becoming too straining, considering other circumstances.
.
But in the years prior to that, something else had happened and either I have not written anything about it, or it has been very minimal.
There have been opportunities for us to see each other for a longer period of time, one on one, without anybody mingling into our affairs or without any difficulties for him accounting for his time.
And he didn’t take it.
There has even been an opportunity for him to allow for a mistress, and privacy with regard to his sexual whereabouts, and again;
He didn’t take it.
.
So when he broke up with me in December 2019, or at least told me we could no longer have sex, he had already been sidelining our affair on numerous occasions, without me knowing.
Weeks or months afterwards, I could reconstruct that there had been giant opportunities for us to be together, or for him to create more space for us, and that he had not used it.
.
I was only allowed into his life, if seeing me could be contained.
.
And I didn’t write about it, because it was entirely irrelevant at the time.
He never told me, it were things I found out afterwards.

And I didn’t write about it after the break-up because then it was even more obsolete.
Even this summer, when despite Covid we were there together, and our bodies wanted each other more than anything, I didn’t write about it either, because by then I had almost forgotten about it really.
And the Covid stress and the migraines that followed all my indoor interaction, were already plenty to deal with.
.
Except now I see that Covid’s stress headaches didn’t have anything to do with me no longer wanting to be his lover this summer.
It was because he had not created more space for me, for us, all those times he had gotten the proverbial hall card, or the conference with the free days to wander around, or the chance to create space within his marriage.
.
Just like Yennefer who had been raised being told she was worth nothing, I too had started to believe, not so much that I was worth nothing, but that I meant nothing to him.
.
And yet this week, just like Yennefer, I rose.
To a place where I no longer depended on the love of others, and in my case that meant a place where for the first time since the breakup I fully identified as a single.
I could feel the power flow back into my hands, my fingers; As if something that had been shut off was coming back to life.
.
It was a week where I became so aware of all the power I had lost when I had started identifying as “a mistress”.
Not only became it the week I was over my lover, it also became the week where I felt my strength returning.
And I knew that even if we would start sleeping with each other, I would never call myself his mistress, or a mistress, again.
.
And then the unexpected happened.
And yes, I did pay for this by dropping off the wagon of blogging and writing.
I paid for it with headaches but they were far less intense than I expected, and after a day I was fine.
I saw him again.
This week.
In my radiant self-proclaimed so-over-you week.
.
He asked to see me, and the way he did it immediately had me worried.
I could just feel something was up. Something bad. But – like I always do – I “got over it”  before I went. 

I trained myself to be completely okay with whatever it was he was going to say.
I sensed it had something to do with another break-up, like a hard Brexit type of thing, where our affair had originally ended friendly.
Maybe he would sell the condo, or maybe there was another mistress.
I had really prepped myself to the point where I was able to take anything he wanted to say, in a neutral but supportive fashion.
.
But that was not at all what it was about.
It was the exact opposite.
The urgency and the seriousness had been because he wanted to know what was up with me.
.
Because all the cafes are closed, we met at his place. He made me coffee, and contrary to last time, no alcohol was involved at any point.
And he wanted to know everything. 
Why I had not wanted to have sex this summer.
What I did want.
How he could help me.
And when we had had the whole “Covid just sucks” headache story, it all came out.
.
For the first time I told him how much it had hurt that every time there had been an opportunity to give me more, and he had given me nothing.
I didn’t even cry or anything, we had a good laugh. And that was because I really was okay with him making his choices.
And then, when I thought we were definitely done talking about it, he asked: 
“Was there anything else last summer, that hurt you?”
And there was…
.
And I m not even going to repeat it here. In fact, I couldn’t even repeat what he had said. I had not remembered the words, just how they made me feel, and what I thought their general gist must have been.
I added: “I’m sorry, I don’t remember the exact words. That must be frustrating especially because I took them so badly.”
And he instructed me to immediately call him out if he ever said something like that again. Without hesitation, without sugar-coating, just blurt out: “Hey! That’s hurtful!”
.
And we had the best afternoon in years.
.
We stayed together for hours.
.
But what was the absolute best, was that I finally saw that what I create with my partners, with the real ones, is something that never dies.
And I say “I create”, but it is always a “we create”.
.
Every man in my life with whom I ever fell in love, is still in my heart.
They can all call me, or walk through the door, and they will always be welcome.
And with way more than half of them I would still have sex, I am still in love with them.
.
Most people, my lovers included, long for normal relationships. Structures that come with a certain set of agreements and predictable interactions that provide safety and stability.
But relationships can fail.
.
I said:
“I think we will always be in each other’s lives. And some of those times we will see each other, and have sex.
And other times when we won’t.”
.
An alchemist is someone who creates something higher, more noble, and more desirable, from materials that are readily available.
So what they can make out of life, with the same materials as the layman, is by definition of a higher quality.
.
But more importantly, and this is what I learned from my lover who was a changed man;
That an alchemist’s true magic, is always created with other seers.
.
Giltine transformed Yennefer, like he had done with all other young witches.
But unlike the other girls, she manipulated him into it because she had no legal right to be transformed.
And she refused sedation, she wanted to be present and in the moment, when it happened.

And by that, by her will of being there and her presence throughout the surgical procedure, she became more than all the others.
More than Giltine, Yennefer had changed herself.
.
To me the anonymous writer, The Saint, gave me a challenge. Which he had written out, in exactly the right tone of voice, and precisely the right mixture of dominant presence, playfulness and backing off leaving the ultimate choice up to me.
But I was the one who decided I would get over my lover this week.
And I was the one who used my creative fire and wrote every day.
More than The Saint, or the challenge he gave me, I transformed myself. 
.
I was there with my lover, for the first time since 2015 no longer seeing myself as a mistress.
My lover has become a new man, but I cannot take credit for that any more than Giltine should take credit for Yennefer.
Or any more than The Saint will take credit for my transformation.
.
In the end we are all responsible for ourselves, but in this lies an extremely heavy responsibility towards others.
Because if we don’t change, if we stick with the ground materials and the ground emotions of jealousy, doubt and pain;
So will others.
.
Yet if we elevate, transmute, rise, and become the immortal alchemist versions of ourselves, who transform everyday elements like relationships, like sexuality, like masturbation and like affairs, into the realm of the eternal;
So can others.
.
True alchemy is started by the alchemist, by the sorcerer, by the mage, by the anonymous writer or by the woman who was once your mistress and who has found back her strength.
You may say we need these special people in our lives for magic.
.
And at the same time they are of no importance;
Because all alchemy comes from within.

..

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

Books 

My diaries are available at LULU
New books will be added.

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready,
is to subscribe to this blog.
Button on this page, probably on the top right.

Or follow my Facebook page
/ Twitter: @LSHarteveld

Nederlands blog:
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The Saint

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

Dear Sara,
.
photo used as illustration. Dutch actor Daan Schuurmans played a character based on The Saint, in the Dutch series “Heer en Meester”.

All I can say is:
I was never there to judge his looks.
But if I had been there to ensure my letters went to an attractive man, I would not have been disappointed.
My response would have consisted of praising everything that was holy on this earth. With a few swear words.
That is how stunningly beautiful he was.

The reason I tracked down who he was, was because I was feeling extremely vulnerable;
I needed something to be able to continue our conversation.
The way I took the edge off was by allowing myself to know with whom I was dealing with and if everything he had told me, with regard to his identity, in particular his gender, had been true.
I didn’t even need to know if things he may have kept from me, or things he may have said as self-protection or to lower expectations were true;
He didn’t owe me the truth.
The only thing I needed to know, was if the little he had revealed with regard to his identity, was true.
.
And that’s when I found out that it was not just true, but that he was so exceptionally beautiful I could see why someone would choose to hide behind a Twitter account.
.
The reason I was able to find out who he was, is because he asked to take the conversation to email. Maybe others have access to the Twitter account, I don’t know.
Only his first email had his full name, then it disappeared. And because of that I initially ignored it because he obviously had not wanted me to see it.
It still took until my crisis of faith, before I allowed myself to give it a serious search.
.
It hasn’t changed what we have, except that it has provided me with just that tiny nudge of security, that allows me to offer him full freedom, because I know he’s a real person.
Let’s say 99% certain, but I ll take the risk of the 1% of me not being right or even being conned.

And although I didn’t dig any deeper, because as soon as I saw who he was, I backed off; Seeing his identity did the trick.
I was no longer worried for my own safety, or about my vulnerability.
Instead he became someone whom I would protect
.
Just like I ve always protected my lover….
.
You could call this my affair 2.0, because I ve learned from my years with Mr.Big.
And I ve gotten even better at making a connection into something beautiful and I’ve also grown more appreciative of what it is these two men, Mr.Big and the man I will call The Saint because his formal ways remind me of a Dutch series that was based on The Saint, can bring that is so rare and so very much needed:
They bring me inspiration.
.
They also rock my world, frustrate me with their unavailability, and the fear that one word from me, or one thought from them, can make the bubble pop and end it all.
They re forces that both derail me, yet also ground me, when once again I learn I can plant my feet just as readily on the decks of a ship in a stormy sea.
And of course my ego takes pride in knowing other women would not have been able to do that, and would have fled the ship.
Of course.
But this game of growing stronger is not the primary reason these men are so valuable to me.
It is because they make me work.
.
Whether it is because of the instability they provide, and me solving that by rooting deeper into my art? 
Or because of the more likely scenario that when sex is involved, my whole life starts shifting, all my art is affected but in the most positive way imaginable?
I m like Picasso where the different periods of my work can be attributed to different men.
.
This is such a man.
.
So what can I say, Sara? 
Life is sweet. Life is very darn sweet. And uncertain, and maddening, and frustrating, and abundant, rich. And I cannot avoid the thought that somehow behind all the coincidence and all the unlikely events chained together;
There is a divine order of things.
.
That things are happening, to me and to my art, that could not have happened any other way.
.
So in many ways this email is no different from the last one I sent you; 
.
I still have the plan to publish all my books in 2020 – 
with the addition that I am now already familiar with the publisher’s software, and my first book has a test copy ordered. And I m going to speed it up to having all my books ready (test copies ordered) in November. 
.
I still plan on going all in with my art/yoga under my real name, as of January 2021;
With the addition that I have ended my lease of the yoga studio.
I made that decision after I realized that I want to be “out there”, connecting over yoga, over art, over rock music; And that current complications with regard to the (unused) yoga space and the politics around proper heating, are not contributing to getting my work out there.
Besides, the house I sent you, the home I will have when I make millions, has three livings tied together, something in Europe only hotels or mansions have. Maybe in America there are more houses where they have multiple family rooms, but here it is very rare.
The only way to not drown in that space of my million dollar condo is to dedicate the center living to being a yoga space, where I can do my own practice and teach friends in this yoga studio in my own home.
I no longer need an external yoga space.
.
What also has not changed is that I still have phobias as a response to being socially active and I sleep poorly. The night has become my least favorite part of the day. There was a week, around the time I met The Saint, when I slept like a baby.
But it was short lived.
I wake up multiple times a night, have nightmares and headaches seem to be lurking just around the corner.
.
I still can’t envision a future with Covid, where I no longer let my sex life be influenced by it. I m counting on it to leave.
But realistically speaking I know I have to man up and solve this.
I have to claim back my true sexuality, which simply isn’t the safe boyfriend girlfriend monogamy thing, unless my boyfriend would be not-monogamous and takes care of my inner baby-koala before he drifts away into the night off to new adventures.
.
I need to use this time to accept my sexuality requires me to let go of the need to be certain.
That if I want my sex life back I cannot afford a desire to not be infected with Covid and have to live with the embarrassment of having to tell all your contacts.
.
I feel I ll one day rip the band-aid.
But for now, every long day among people, or every social event longer than a few hours, comes with the risk of the migraines returning.
.
So nothing has changed, but I feel I have held the course for two weeks.
.
And considering the world we’re living in;
That’s one hell of an accomplishment.

..

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

Books 

My diaries are available at LULU
New books will be added.

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready,
is to subscribe to this blog.
Button on this page, probably on the top right.

Or follow my Facebook page
/ Twitter: @LSHarteveld

Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

The Queen of Stinson Beach

Basic Instinct: on the road from Stinson to San Francisco

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

Dear Sara,
.
First of all;
This post could have, and probably should have, had the title:
“10 Steps That Made Me A 7-Figure Rock Star.”
If you see which previously used addition to that title I left out, I m giving you extra bonus points.
As if you needed any, after responding to my ten minute story about being obsessed with the not-known-by-anyone town of Stinson on our last call, with:
“I know Stinson – ”
And giving me your personal memories of it!
..
But in my enthusiasm to turn this into a game with extra points, I’m getting ahead of myself!

So, back to where we left off during our last call;
I’ve since replaced the cover photo of my Twitter and Facebook, to the Stinson shoreline. A photo tied to the movie Basic Instinct, and one I will never be allowed to use as the cover for my book
C.
Stories about cinema, Covid and Catherine Tramell

In my last email I was talking about “C.” as just being my 2020 (Covid) diary. But shortly before our call, or on the call, I realized the “C.” – which already stood for Catherine Tramell and Covid – could also stand for “Cinema”.

Immediately giving the book a wider perspective from a diary of this Covid year, to a collection of stories about Covid and about Catherine Tramell, such as these letters to you and all the other posts I ve written about Catherine Tramell and Basic Instinct in the past.

And finally C, standing for cinema, would include stories inspired by movies I saw.
I think I have up to twenty posts, all “Metas” to movies in one way or another.
Out of the top of my head, I remember writing many of them about Star Wars The Last Jedi, a few on the movie Mother, but also on Words of Love, the documentary on Leonard Cohen and Bohemian Rhapsody, which I saw 15 times total.

Turning “C.” from a diary into a collection of stories, was actually so freeing that it has made me determined to do all books like that.
Leave the idea of publishing my blog posts in the diary format, but curate them around certain topics.
If, in the end, I find that I also have a diary I want to publish, for instance my 1994-1995 project, I can still do that.
But the idea of first focusing on smaller complete series, such as “The Mistress Speaks”, or collection of stories around a topic, makes the task at hand so much lighter.

I m still committed to publishing all my new books in the remainder of 2020.
Despite….

The headaches! 
..
As I m typing this, Saturday afternoon,  I ve only just recovered from headaches.
And according to this new 10 Step schedule I should be taking it easy, and do my yoga and journaling before I dive into the writing.
But I’m just way too excited to not immediately jump into it!

And I mean- what if the headache returns, and I have not written you before our call?
So although I believe there is purpose and point in following the 10 steps, in the right order;
Let’s not overestimate my ability to follow them.
.
The reason I didn’t title this post “10 Steps that made me a 7-Figure Rock Star”, is because it would be way too self-helpy, click baity and then the post being too wordy to satisfy the hungry visitor.
Best to give it a neutral title;
Stinson Beach.
The two other titles I considered before settling for “Stinson Beach” were:
“The little fellas with the knitting pins who stick them in my head, are back”
But I didn’t want to acknowledge my headaches, to the extend that I was now either suffering from them OR writing about them!
Don’t want to encourage those little fellas.
..
And the other title I considered was; “Straight Outta Stinson”.
Which I REALLY liked, but since I never watched the documentary Straight Outta Compton, nor ever listened  to NWA, I found that title too was too click baity too and not be delivering content for someone coming in from that angle.
..
I just looked it up and in 2010 Stinson Beach had a population of 632.
It’s a quiet town and the only things ominous about it are the always present fog over the sea, and the great white sharks who have gotten the town into “The Red Triangle”;

And area with a high number of shark attacks.
Stinson is as far from LA rap music and culture as you could possibly get.
..
So the title became plain and simple;
Stinson Beach. 
The small town that you knew from personal experience, and that I had turned into my newest special interest. Me; A woman from The Netherlands, who has never been to California or even in the entire West of the US ever!
..
Because of the headaches I have not written anything, since my last letter to you. And I ve also not watched movies, nor listened to music.
I have been doing a training from Katrina Ruth “Identity”, plus doing her longer free training videos on YouTube, which she uploaded from 2016 tot the beginning of this year;
But even they are just too potent!
I have them (taking her training) on my 10 Steps schedule, but they’re in the final lap. They’re for when I feel really strong, and I can let her powerful message fuel me without breaking into bits.
As I have been suffering from lately.
..
Now just to be clear: I did not get headaches from watching Katrina Ruth, although I am aware it can seem that way.
I got headaches from my request for psychological help backfiring, a situation about which I probably should have filed a complaint with healthcare inspection but I didn’t want to invest anymore time in it.
And after this had settled, a doctor who also works at my GP office contacted me with new addresses to getting help.

Something I declined but it did result in more stress.
..
And we also had another Covid related press conference, which was from all the press conferences the most inconsistent one of all.
This time they had an entire schedule which they called a “Covid road map” which turned out to be neither a road map (it did not get you to where you wanted to go) nor was it a consistent schedule with regard to which measures would au-to-ma-ti-cally (I presumed!) follow a certain level of having Covid in our communities.
..
Also;
The road map was regional.
Yet it was presented on the day we had national measures being taken.

National measures which were not even on the road map.
In case you’re wondering “Isn’t The Netherlands too small for a regional road map?”
Yes.
It’s bollocks.
This road map will never be used because as soon as there is any trouble, national measures will be taken.
..
However in theory you could use a regional road map for national Covid measures if you would said f.e. ;
“We’re setting the entire country on level 3. This means that all measures for level 3 will now be applicable for the whole nation.”
..
I really thought – and I can only say I was so naive here;
I thought that – and I had actually already printed it, because I was convinced it could not mean anything else!
I was convinced I would ONLY need this new road map from now on.
Level 3?
* looks at the road map *
* sees column with measures level 3*

Got it! 
..
When in reality, we got national measures, with a name (“partial lockdown”) that was not referring to a certain level nor name used on the card. 
And the new set of measures were not found in one column but either not mentioned on the map, or scattered throughout like confetti.
..
A cluster fuck Sara, that’s what it was.
.
JUST when I thought I could finally let out a sigh of relief, that they had bettered their ways and had something which would free us from constantly having to tune in to all the changes.
Yet no one seemed to mention, seemed to care, and an entire parliamentary debate went by without someone roasting it.
.
I hate roasts done for fun. But for this ill-equipped road map plan I think a proper roast was the only appropriate response.
..
Oh!
And one of the things they will very soon find out, is that if they indeed intend to use our emergency Covid legislation in order to make non-medical mouth masks mandatory?
Dutch legal experts will have them raw.
.
Because this law states that citizens can be forced to wear;
“Personal protection”
Covering your mouth with “something”? Is not personal protection!
A condom, is personal protection.
A real medical mask, is personal protection.
Non-medical masks offer at best some protection for other people, and they appear courteous.
..
The emergency Covid legislation should have stated that the government can make people comply with symbolic measures, that might be ineffective or even counter effective “but that most people get a safe feeling from”.
In that case, they would be able to get the mandatory mouth masks through in 10 minutes.
But based on personal protection?

They’ll have them raw, Sara.
.
And although I’m all pro-etiquette and don’t mind wearing a face mask at all, I look forward to the legal massacre this mouth mask legislation is going to be.
I give Dutch politicians heading for mandatory mouth masks, the survival chance of a surfer with an open wound on his leg, peddling his board in The Red Triangle of Stinson Beach.
I read they pulled one out who needed 600 stitches.
.
So after my Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday being lost to seeing my personal chances of getting the correct psychological help evaporate (after my medical data were leaked – It was a minefield!) and lost them to getting worked up about the inconsistency of Dutch Covid regulation;
My Thursday had a high pulling myself up by the bootstraps level!
.
I called it my day of Rebirth, and I was determined to never let myself be pulled into the shark infested waters of getting psychological help.
Nor was I ever going to invest in understanding which contradictory, bullocks plan our government was selling this time.
Not even when it seemed like a good and sound plan, because the disappointment that it was yet another road map to absolutely nowhere, made it all the more painful.
..
And it worked.
Thursday was A Milestone Day! 

By the time it had finished I felt really good, and I had made some really big improvements to my house. 
Most notably I now have a cosy yoga corner in the warmest room of the house, my study.
Now that it’s winter the living is always a bit colder, and sometimes the cats want the balcony door open, so this is much better.
.
And then Friday came.
.
Now, throughout the entire week I had been taking Katrina Ruth training, and on most days it was the only thing I felt really confident over.

In the midst of all the craziness, focusing on personal development and what I want for my art and my life, were the moments I felt Life mattered and that it was more than being played by medical professionals and our government.
But even Thursday, I could already sense studying Katrina Ruth was starting to take up too much time in the morning – often up to two hours for one 45 minute video.
And that it didn’t result in me writing, nor publishing my books – which was going to be my main goal for 2020.

Thursday was my “regroup” day, so to speak.
I could count that as being “lost”, to needing recovery time for all the anger and frustration I had felt at the beginning of the week.
….
But Friday was the first day I could have done something “real”.
Maybe that is why on Friday I noticed it more, how intense studying Katrina Ruth was. And when I developed a headache and ultimately had to go to bed to recover, I knew I needed more of a plan to my life than “refrain from news” and “don’t talk to doctors”.
..
Which is when I developed the 10 Steps that are going to make me a 7-Figure Rock Star – period!
LOL
The missing word was “writer”.
But you knew that right?
..
I used to see myself, or maybe “seeing myself” was not the right word, but the closest definition of myself and what it is I do, is “Writer”.
Hence:
7 Figure Rock Star Writer.
..
But from taking all the Katrina Ruth training – and I don’t even remember when it clicked exactly – but from studying with her, I knew I had to ditch the “writer” part.
For many reasons.
(oh, and I cried, it was an emotional moment when in my head, I crossed out writer, and became a Rock Star)
..
The first reason I crossed out writer is because when Covid is over, I want to spend as little time writing or behind my desk as possible.
I’ve made jokes I do not want to spend even one night in my own bed!
lol
Wouldn’t that be something.
Either way, being known as “a writer” is setting myself up for doing something I no longer want to do.
..
Secondly because I feel yoga is such an integral part of who I am.
I don’t feel I am a yoga teacher in the traditional sense, anymore. But months ago, I already had a calling. Just like Joan of Arc that kind of level:
“Yoga is my art”
..
Since then I still have no idea how this would be possible, but I know this is true.
Yoga, not writing, is my art.
But Rock Star Yoga Teacher also didn’t had the right ring to it, but neither did Rock Star Writer, since there was too much yoga “in me”.
..
Thirdly, and this is the thing we had a lot of fun with in our last call, was that I feel that since Jon Bon Jovi has basically stepped down from the stage, and sees himself more as a writer, a singer songwriter, a recording artist, and only as a touring musician/ performer last;
I feel there’s a Rock Star vacancy.
There’s no one guarding the stage.
..
He didn’t leave the stage in so many words, but if he is vocal about seeing himself as a writer, and applauded by critics for having delivered such a timely, and relevant singer/songwriter album?
That stage is free.
I know because I was a writer for fourteen years, and that is not the stage.
I feel 2020, with him becoming a writer and me publishing all my books before the end of the year so that I am free to perform and take the stage;
There is an energy of roles being reversed, or switched.
..
Because that was the second “calling” I got: 
I know I am a performer.
The whole list of incomprehensible “calls” is:
1. Get in front of as many people as possible
2. Yoga is my art
3. Album, tour. Album, tour.
This is ALL I have to go by.
And I understand some of them a little bit, and none of them fully.
..
Three incomprehensible clues about a life that I do not know yet.
And writing not being a visible part of it, as being either 1, nor 2, nor 3.
Writing is “not on the map”.
..
* silence * 
..
* hears penny drop *
..
That’s when I suddenly knew what my plan was going to be! 
..
First of all, I was going to drop the title “writer”.
I no longer feel that emotion, but I know I got emotional when I saw I was ready to go next level, and to no longer “be” a writer.
And it was my real name.
This is my pseudonym blog, but my future as a non-writing Rock Star is under my real name.
..

And the second insight, which was not emotional at all, was that I was going to write out a road map to become a 7-Figure Rock Star.
My new identity, without “writer”.

And after being so angry over all the mistakes our government had made in drawing up their Covid road map, I knew exactly what a GOOD road map looked like!

* fast forward one day *

It’s Sunday night now.
The day I would have finished this blog post, and the moment I would have shared my 10 step system.
So here we are, one day after I logged off because I had been writing for 5 hours straight.
And feeling like a totally new person.
Yesterday, I was so happy I finally knew how to regulate my emotions.
By limiting my time online.
By not writing before I had done my journaling.
By not studying Kat before I had done everything else. 
..
And by putting sex and men at number 10 – yes, they were at ten on my list!
..
And yet by the time I went to bed?
I had broken ALL the rules.
Written you.

Not done yoga.
Binged on Kat.
And met a man.
And yet I did not have a headache, and I felt better than I had in weeks! 
..
I couldn’t sleep, I was definitely overstimulated. Because I had met someone online, who I know NOTHING about. Technically I don’t even know if it is a “he”.
And yet….
I do.
..
It’s a “he”.
A him.
I don’t know his age, but I know a few of his friends (maybe that’s why I know he’s male too) and they are way younger than I am.
So that’s why I think he’s younger.
..
It’s so strange because this is the first time I meet someone in a “setting” that is mysterious; 
We know very little about each other.
Just a common interest, or experience, that connects us.

But like I said, there seems to be something else…
..
And meeting this man changed EVERYTHING.
..
The entire 10 step plan that was going to ensure that I didn’t get all stressed out by men and stress, pretty much received its death verdict, when this man, in one of our first moments of conversations, made a bold move;
At EXACTLY the right time, Sara!
..
It bore the markings of a chess player, knowing exactly what he did.
Deliberately moving the horse towards the Queen.
..
Would The Queen move to the back of the board, to the sides,
or would she move towards him?
Every move would tell him something about her.
..
I now know the title of this blog post:
Not “Stinson Beach”.
It will be “The Queen of Stinson Beach”.
..
And I’m betting my Bon Jovi collection, he’ll “get” that.
..
Was it a coincidence?
That on the Saturday night I wrote for 5 hours straight, determined to finish this post today and describe my list with 10 points;
That EXACTLY on that night, things picked up between a stranger and me?
Someone I have never met before?
..
But someone who does, what no one before, during or after my lover had been able to do.
..
Play...
..
Have I ever told you why I knew that in 1992, Sharon Stone knew the essence of the movie Basic Instinct, where all the other people insisted on having a simplistic view of “her” character being a killer?
.
The interviewer asked her what the movie was about and she answered:

“It is a love story.”

..

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

Update on Monday morning

I feel absolutely horrific, which I find both disheartening and totally fascinating at the same time.
My “body”, or mind since physically nothing is wrong with me, has responded to my emotional bender, as if I had a real life (sexual) encounter!

So for today, my 10 step plan, seems like a good idea after all! 

Books 

My diaries are available at LULU
New books will be added.

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready,
is to subscribe to this blog.
Button on this page, probably on the top right.

Or follow my Facebook page
/ Twitter: @LSHarteveld

Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

Luv Can. How one new Bon Jovi record just saved me, 2020, and my entire legacy


The track Luv Can was pulled from Bon Jovi’s album 2020,
and only released as a bonus track in Japan.

.

I have no doubts I will have turned into Catherine Tramell, by the time this is over. 

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

Dear Sara,
.
They say it is darkest before the dawn, so September will be that;
My dark before the dawn.
The big breakthrough.
The moment you know that despite Twenty Twenty suffering from covidus interruptus, taking seven months down;
“On the dawn of the eighth month, look West!”
To New Jersey.
.
On October 2nd, almost 7 months to the day after the first Covid regulations in The Netherlands, Bon Jovi released their album 2020.
Yet I find myself listening to the version they had planned for March, more than to the finite album they released which included songs about the pandemic and Black Lives Matter.

But then again, I’ve always had a neck for returning to the past at will, far more than a willingness to deal with the present.
.
But in its own miraculous way, which I m not even sure if I can join the dots to paint a picture how it all fit together, the release of the album and the promotion for the release, did what so far nothing else could:
It saved my year.
It saved me.
And it brought me back to the now.
.
To start with the last part: Summer 2019 I started a performance project where I wrote from 1994.
Although there were many ups and down, and I proved to be rather bad at living in the past, I was persistent and reset my project time and time again.
This blog has been “curated by Suzanne” for months now, and I also signed my blogs (with the exception of the occasional story Lauren wrote from 1995, as it now was) as:
Suzanne/Lauren
I didn’t write in 2020 as or under the name LS Harteveld.
And for good reason.
..
Lauren/ LS Harteveld stands for daring work, and includes not so much free sex, but exciting sex.
Finding enticing things to write about.
In Covid times, which I anonymously referred to as “C.” the first couple of months, there is not much boundaries to push, when even a handshake is criminal.
It’s just not my world.
.
When Covid came, I was even more determined to bury myself in the 90s, and not pay attention in the now.
But I had not foreseen that with social distancing and the impossibility for sex in 2020, I didn’t have much to do and to discover as 23 year old me in 1995.
Since those rules or limitations cannot be bypassed.

I did adjust the story, and gave Lauren95 a relapse to her aids/hiv phobia, which would explain for her not having a sex life in my book, but it didn’t quite sit well.
.
I had not set up this entire project, to live in celibacy in a lonely 1995.
It’s a bit like going skiing and then there is no snow;
Even if you do manage to have a fun holiday, it’s not why you came.
The project had failed.
.
I am now back in the now, current day.
This site will no longer be curated by Suzanne, it will “just” be Lauren. And everything I wrote the past half year, struggling with my identity, Covid, and the failure of my time travel project, will be turned into a diary/ book called:
C. 
My diary of 2020.
.
C. will be one of the many books I have decided to publish, very fast.
Like I said: I have lost this year, there’s no two ways about it.
But it is not too late;
I’m going to make 2020 the year I publish all my unpublished work.
.
And I have a very good reason to do so: I can make the date on the first page 2020, or 2021. The first being far more badass and epic!
I have no idea how many books I could theoretically create, but I am going to “squeeze”, or cut, until there are “only” ten.
I love that number.
In 2017, I published 10 as well. 
.
It was because of the Bon Jovi album being called 2020, and how it changed from the initial version that was going to be released in March, to a new version in October, that made me super reflective on this year.
I think that’s what brought out my determination to make 2020 work after all.
.
Another trigger to get my act together was that from the little promotional interviews that I actually read, I got that Jon Bon Jovi currently prioritizes song writing, then recording, and only after that touring.
And I thought:
“Dang! If even the best performers are no longer performing, it’s time to step up my game!”
.
The way I see it, this public performance would not be as LS Harteveld.
The past couple of years it has been really clear to me that LS Harteveld is a writing-only account. That my work here (under pseudonym) is so deeply personal, I really don’t see myself talking about its content.
.
But under my real name, I was not really “in touch” with what I came here to do. With what I wanted to be.
I didn’t have those vulnerable books there, and yet I still felt unsure.
But now that I see even Jon Bon Jovi being so serious and weighed down by the reality of day to day life and the Covid crisis, I feel there is a story that needs to be told.
That everything I have been studying and developing with regard to raising you energy, your excitement, your power if you will;
Is especially relevant, in a society bouncing back from Covid.
.
My bookkeeper once told me a story that in the Netherlands we have three types developmental work: social work where you bring people from a subpar level to a standard level where they have food, housing, education and so on.
You have work in order to keep them at that level, for example health services or sponsoring exercise and dieting. Everything that prevents people from dropping back to subpar level.
And then you have work where you elevate people from the standard level to a higher level of self-actualization.
In my opinion Bon Jovi used to inspire the whole range of them; He would take Tommy and Gina by the hand at the lowest level, but he would motivate them to go all the way up!
Probably by releasing a new album at exactly the time they were starting to slide down a bit, and Bam! There was the new album!
And up they went.
.
And I feel this new Bon Jovi – the record was already socially conscious before it was 2020, or before Covid – is concentrating on the lowest ranks.
To the one who need it most, that’s for sure.
But the higher ranks, how you go from good to great?
I will never be Jon Bon Jovi, and no doubt my message will speak to entirely different audience, but it was that part where I saw this sudden vacancy, that inspired me to like I said step up my game and get serious.
This will be under my real name.
.
So by publishing all my LS Harteveld work in 2020, and after this pseudo-retirement of my pseudonym and becoming very minimalist with my writing here (my first thought: only when I m having sex again!), I will have freed up my schedule and my attention to go all-in under my real name, as a speaker about all those things.
And as a yoga teacher who speaks about all those things.
As someone who can be an example of how you can free your mind in a way that you can go from good to great.
.
I have used a picture of Catherine Tramell for this blog. 
She, the fictional character from Basic Instinct (1992) is still for me the most important role model in becoming a writer.
“She” also wrote under a pen-name, Catherine Woolf.
The only thing I have not established yet, is “feeling” that identity, or any other identity, under my real name.
Maybe because I don’t see myself as a writer there.
.
The real me, that I look forward to exploring and expanding as of January, is still fairly neutral. 
And suffering a bit, under Covid and the stress of where will it all go.
The responsibility of making her life matter.
I think the Me under my real name is trying, but heartbroken.
She appears stable and strong, but she herself knows how brittle it is.
How much pain there is underneath.
.
Just like Jon Bon Jovi.

.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

Books 

My diaries are available at LULU
New books will be added.

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready,
is to subscribe to this blog.
Button on this page, probably on the top right.

Or follow my Facebook page
/ Twitter: @LSHarteveld

Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

The Rise of Catherine Tramell


video: One of my favorite scenes from Basic instinct.
It shows how much Catherine and Nick are at ease with each other.

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

This post contains spoilers for Basic Instinct (1992)
You can watch the movie on Netflix.
.
Dear Sara,
.
Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
The flesh is weaker than the conscious mind.

Where flesh stands for still following the news day after day, despite making daily resolutions to stop following the news entirely.
.
And where flesh stands for writing an entire blogpost – twice!- about my real thoughts on Covid.
.
But before I get to the tricky part, of writing about Covid without creating things I delete, I want to first get back to the part where I changed my mind.
After my last letter to you.
My intention was to stop living so hermit-like, and go out more.
Take more risks.
.
I was so sick of staying within my (social) boundaries, and could not stand the thought of living in fear of well “people” I think.
Not fear of the virus, just to be clear.
.
I knew this “daring” new lifestyle would probably cost me my productivity. That I would be so out of whack every time I had seen a friend who had a cold, or had been in a car with someone who then got tested the week after and so on;
And yet, it was worth it.
Then fuck being productive.
Or so I thought.
.
But reality was a lot more stubborn than just a rational decision to stop being such a pussy, and rock that social life.
Time and time again I was caught off-guard, and I think I now know why;
Because you know what, Sara?
Most people SAY they live according to Covid regulations.
AND THEN THEY DON’T.
.
So this is what the world looks like to me Sara:
FIRST , “they”, society, science, all the scared people, all the dutiful entrepreneurs and organisations, all the healthcare professionals who had to deal with so much death and so on-
They tell me Covid is a real threat and that therefor there are these rules in place.
THEN, “they”, society, science, all the scared people, all the dutiful entrepreneurs and organisations, all the healthcare professionals who had to deal with so much death and so on – 
do not obey their own rules.
AND! 
The other half of society, alternative news channels, and people who are less scared, the entrepreneurs and organisations who are less dutiful and everyone else who did not have to deal with all the deaths and sick people, also don’t obey them because they don’t believe it’s a real threat.
.
In other words:
I m living in a world where from the people who have not stayed indoors for 6 months;
No one obeys the rules.
Half of them despite endorsing them.
.
They go out coughing, share hand towels, equipment, food, elevators, cars.
They do not keep a 1,5 meter distance, or meet indoors without having any reason to believe the place has some kind of premium ventilation technique.
.
And yet at the same time, with half of them, it is NOT because they do not endorse the rules;
But it is because unlike me, they never had to internalize what hygiene is, because they were never aids phobic.
.
My estimate is that unless you’re a surgeon, you’re not going to understand surface and air contamination.
Because if you did, you would immediately see that the preventative measures may be more than a drop in the ocean;
But they’re far from safe or sterile circumstances that will prevent you from getting anything.
And that is IF you obey the rules.
Which like I said: I have (hardly) seen anyone doing, not consistently at least.
.
So here I was, for the past 6 months, in a world where half of the population endorse the rules and don’t diligently follow them, and the other half who do not endorse the rules and also don’t follow them.
And yet I have been feeling like the villain for concluding that apparently the rules only have the function of giving the impression that “something is being done”.
They should make people FEEL safe, when even if the rules would be executed perfectly, they are far from safe.

As the surgeon and the woman recovering from an aids phobia would have been able to tell you.
..
Yet this whole “playing by the rules” act has been my MO for the past 6 months, and I was like: “Whatever. I’ll sit this one out, and I ll cope.”
But at the back of my head, still, there was this voice that it wasn’t about following the rules;
It was about not catching or spreading Covid.
Which if it is as contagious as they say it is, means you cannot do anything where you touch the same surface as someone else, nor go indoors anywhere.
A situation that was only facilitated during the lock down, although our stores stayed open.
For the past 6 months I have not been stressed out by the rules, but by knowing that the rules are not enough to keep it from spreading.
As long as the supermarket, the plane or the movie theater are not clean enough to have an open heart surgery, you can still catch Covid there.
That’s how I see it. 
.
In the first months I felt angry, but eventually it died out.
And I became apathetic.
I was checking the news sites (sinning) but basically all I did was checking if there were any signs of land.

If there was hope.
And the reason it was so bad for my mental health was because I realized this would stay until at least mid 2021 if not longer.
.
I ve deleted another four paragraphs of medical information;
Suffice to say, I have not been able to combine my Covid related stress with giving myself nor my cats the right medical attention.
.
And it was something that was recently added onto that “I ll sit this one out” pile of delayed medical attention for my entire household (me and the kitties), combined with the six month emotional roller coaster of reading dreadful Covid related news, and being freaked out by many social interactions, that sparked a new thought;
“What if it never goes away?”
.
What if the conditions that are causing so much anxiety in my social life, and that have made me decide to avoid medical care, are permanent?
What if social distancing stays indefinitely?
What if Covid testing is here to stay, like Chlamydia?

What if a cure for Covid doesn’t come until 2034 just like the one for aids/hiv didn’t come until 1994;
And there will never be a workable vaccine but only something like Prep, for those at risk of getting Covid?
.
Then what?
.
And everything fell into place.
.
It was the breakthrough I had been looking for.
.
Of course I wasn’t going to watch the news anymore, now that I realized that it may very well stay like this for the upcoming decade and a half.
Just like gay men in the 80s, we might be in for a very long haul.
.
For the first time in months, I immediately knew what to do.
.
I sent an email to my dentist and the VET, both explaining my issues with the current situation as well as asking or suggesting ways how we could pick up treatment (safely) for myself (dentist) and the cats (VET).
For now I will keep my ban on the GP and specialists, but I’ve more or less always had that.
Dental care and the VET are really the only forms of health care that are “aligned” for me.
It’s not that it’s going to be easy, or immediately solved or anything.
But I felt very empowered to pick those ones up, instead of postponing it to some unforeseen future.
.
And finally The Vision came, of who I am becoming.
And this was also something that had been dangling in and out of focus, for a very long time. It was as if I just couldn’t fully grasp it.
Or was afraid to leap.
Until now.
.
In the 1992 movie Basic Instinct, Sharon Stone plays Catherine Tramell.
And although right off the bat, I was totally into her, she also seems to be perpetually growing on me.
.
Catherine Tramell is not just the type of woman who I think I truly am, and the only writer I have ever really felt connected to;
She also embodies the “role” I feel I currently have, in society.
.
She’s the one who everybody believes to be evil, when she’s really not evil at all.
Just strong, misunderstood, and refusing to explain herself.
.
Identifying with her is my ticket “out of here”.
Where “here” is after six months of playing by the rules and missing out on all the fun. And health care.
Basic Instinct, as I see it now, contains an alternative story or theme, that was recognized by at least one other person at the time!
By Sharon Stone herself.
.
On the special edition dvd, she speaks favorably about her character Catherine Tramell, and the story of Basic Instinct.
Yet last week I heard her talking about her background research for Catherine Tramell (in interviews for Netflix series Ratched) and it was almost as if she looked back at Catherine Tramell as really having committed the murders.
As really being a serial killer.
I thought:
“She’s lost “her”! Even Sharon Stone no longer remembers who Catherine Tramell really was.”
.
Maybe I misunderstood the interview she gave last week or the interview on the 1992 recording.
But Sharon Stone seemed to no longer support a more
favorable version, which she offered in that interview from the early 90s.
That Basic Instinct was a love story.
..
And this is how I see that story:
Catherine Tramell and Nick Curran, were both fascinated by playing mental games.
I am reading the book for the first time, and Catherine is explained like this;
.
“Writing teaches you how to lie,” she said crisply.
Oh, Jeez, thought Gus, all the ice was thin around this woman.
Every word she uttered was loaded with some double meaning.
.
But what was too much for Gus, was exactly right for Nick Curran;
..
He was looking forward to see how much she could be pushed
–and how she would push back.
.
Nick and Catherine played together because no one else understood the game. 
.
Catherine was not violent, not in a physical sense. But she did have a fascination for people with a history of violence.
Like Nick.
.
An incident where he had shot two tourists when he had been undercover, had made Nick Curran emotionally wounded and reckless. He was always drawn to violent situations. As if he longed to be punished for what he had done.
For the mistakes he had made.
Or, as his partner Gus called it, Nick felt so guilty that he “tried to wiggle his way into an ice pick”.
.
So I do not see Catherine Tramell as a killer;
But she was surrounded by them.
She sought their company a
nd seemed to have given them ownership over who they were...
Roxy could accept she had killed her brothers.
Hazel Dobkins could accept she had killed her family.
Nick could accept he killed “those tourists”.
.
And all three did those things, long before they met Catherine.
.
Her presence, her willingness to look them in the eye and be able to be with them despite or maybe even because of what they had done;
It’s what drew them towards her, as if for one brief moment, they didn’t have to carry that burden alone. 
.
But Beth Garner, who studied at Berkley at the same time as Catherine did and who became San Francisco’s police psychologist?
She could not cope.
In all probability; Beth Garner was no killer, until she met Catherine and lost her sanity.
.
Yet Beth Garner was viewed as the “good” one.
In the final scenes of the movie, it is revealed that Beth was the killer, of
Johnny Bozz, and of detective Nilsen to whom she gave Nick’s psychiatric file;
She killed Gus, and in all likeliness also their mentor at Berkley and her own husband.
.
But because of one final shot, with an ice pick under Catherine and Nick’s bed, it is also ambiguous if all that was true.
.
To this day director Paul Verhoeven, and now apparently even Sharon Stone herself, claim it was Catherine Tramell, not Beth Garner, who killed Johnny Bozz, Nilsen and Gus.
And then Catherine would also have to be the one who killed the mentor, and Beth’s husband.
.
In my opinion: She wasn’t.
It really was Beth.
.
She got into a deep identity crisis from meeting Catherine Tramell and as a response to not being able to really connect with Catherine and feeling inferior to her, Beth “became” the evil she accused Tramell of.
But that was never there. 
.
In 1992, I didn’t know the two story lines, both that Beth did it and that Catherine did it, had both been fully developed.
So naturally, I thought if you would dissect the movie, or if I had paid more attention, I would have seen who had “really” done it.
I left the theater with the ending that Beth Garner had done all the killing, but nevertheless Catherine had an ice pick under the bed.
Which she ultimately did not use, she didn’t kill Nick. 
.
Frustrated, I asked my then boyfriend what that ending meant.
If Beth had done it, why did Catherine have an ice pick and had considered using it on Nick?
I will never forget what my boyfriend said, and especially now that I know the movie is so complicated, I think he gave the best explanation of the movie I have ever heard:
“Maybe she was so used to having the people around her being killed, that when the killer was caught she felt she had to do it herself.”
.
And that’s why I know, this crisis will never be over.
If the virus is gone (the killer is caught), we will be so used to having it around us, that we’ll either keep it around by our thoughts, refusing to let it go.
Or we’ll create a new enemy thought.
Ten days ago one of the major news sites had three articles on legionnaire’s disease;
Maybe that will be the new enemy if Covid is behind bars.
Maybe that will be the ice pick under our beds we’re tempted to use because we’re so used, and attached, to having death and mayhem around us.
.
The movie made me see that there is no right or wrong in this crisis.
There are multiple story lines which you can follow, and they’re all complete.
.
The whodunnit from Covid will, just like Basic Instinct, always be a matter of preference.
.
Do you want to believe the good doctor Beth Garner was set up by the femme fatale?
.
Or do you want to believe that the mysterious writer Catherine Tramell just decided to play along? 
.
“I don’t make the rules, Nick. I go with the flow.”
.
After six months of pretending to be a Beth Garner, I realize I chose the wrong part.
I m changing my position, and picking up the Catherine Tramell part, just like I have done for years.
My three websites, my three blogs of the past ten years, are filled with blogs just like this one. Where I realize there is a part of me that has only been represented by her.
A very big part.
.
But I think I knew even earlier. I think I chose right there in 1992, who I wanted to become, or perhaps had always been.
Her.
.
I don’t make the rules, Sara.
.
I go with the flow.
.
.

~Suzanne/ Lauren
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

Curious to read what else I wrote about Catherine Tramell?
Most of it was on this site!
Just search on her name in the search box.

And next to that
there are two articles you can find using the search box of my oldest blog,

and I got one hit on my Dutch site.

Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.


ABOUT ME

I am Suzanne, the real name of Lauren Harteveld,
Lauren/ LS Harteveld was my second identity under which I wrote about sex, relationships, pop culture, from 2006 to 2020.
Lauren is now in 1995, so she will write offline for us.
Her first year 1994-1995 is available online:

.
coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

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.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

Share Yourself With More People

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

Dear Sara,
.
I feel I lost the last two weeks.
As if there is absolutely nothing worthy of telling.
Despite the title, I definitely did not share myself, but I did have an extremely ugly backlash from this summer where I did try to share myself with more people.
.
It was an accumulation of things, and the short version is I tried to put my love life back together despite of Covid and yet sooner rather than later but more precisely the last two weeks;
It all fell to bits.
.
As sure as I had been that I WAS NOT going to let Covid rob me of my sex life, after phobic nights, the GP not calling me back, the psychotherapist not responding to my email, cancelling my work because I just felt like a Covid bio-hazard at that time;
And then slowly crawling back up, all the while thinking:
“Please Covid, take my sex life, but LEAVE ME (I may have added “the fuck” here) ALONE!”
.
As impossible as it had seemed to rule out sex, which had been my top priority for 14 years; That’s how unwise, disruptive and drama-filled physical contact had proven to be.
Either I was going to have a sex-life and spend the upcoming year either:
– working like a mad woman to make a “real relationship” work
or
– spend it trembling under a blanket from all the anxiety attacks my sex in Covid times was causing
The third option: Get professional help through a therapist, was no longer included after my attempts had not resulted in anything.
And instead I chose the new previously unthinkable option 3:
– get by without professional help, but cutting the biggest trigger, my sex life, out.
.
I also had to decide to keep doing things with other people, pick up my work (for third party/ on location), go to theaters and public places.
The fear that had been triggered by this summer’s attempt to regain my sex life, had immobilized me.
It was like a train that had the emergency stop pulled, and needed to be unlocked manually, wheel by wheel.
.
I made a resolution to do something social or public every day.
I
t had to be a deliberate choice to prioritize that, and to not give myself the option to back out.
.
Work wise it’s like I forgot the things I told you last time.
I said my work would be teaching/ writing about yoga, and making Bon Jovi videos and write about Bon Jovi, all under my real name.
I did start teaching a weekly Dutch yoga course! It’s a blog combined with videos. So that feels very satisfactory. 

But as a whole, writing as LS Harteveld did more or less hijack my working hours, and now I m two weeks further down the road, and I have to write you again, and I m thinking:
“If only I had remembered to implement what I wrote Sara two weeks ago, and only do the work under my real name during work hours;
I would not have lost those weeks.”
.
I m often disappointed at how much time I spend straying from the path only to come back exactly where I started.
And this time without the sex.
.
Okay, so that’s enough dwelling for one night. 
.
On the bright side, it does mean that until there is a vaccine, I have all the time in the world to focus on whatever I want. Without the distraction of sex.
I ve already aligned with Andy Warhol, who never had sex.
Lenny Kravitz, who was celibate for many years. I couldn’t find if or how that ended. 
And I am starting to see, it has the potential to do something extremely powerful for your art and your position in the world.
.
It’s an interesting concept that identifying with not having sex, is just as potent as identifying with having it.
Like I did for the past 14 years.
.
But seeing people in real life, or visiting public places and working and thereby complicating social and Covid related dynamics, are part of this new phase.
To avoid dropping back to my comfort zone, out of Covid fear, I need to keep seeing other people.
.
I may end up sharing myself with more people, than when I still had sex.
..
.

~Suzanne/ Lauren
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

If you’re interested in following my Bon Jovi related content under my real name, you’re invited to follow the following accounts:
YouTube
Rock Star Writer (blog)
Rock Star Writer Facebook
my personal Twitter under my real name

Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.


ABOUT ME

I am Suzanne, the real name of Lauren Harteveld,
Lauren/ LS Harteveld was my second identity under which I wrote about sex, relationships, pop culture, from 2006 to 2020.
Lauren is now in 1995, so she will write offline for us.
Her first year 1994-1995 is available online:

.
coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

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.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

To Rule The World

Madonna at 23 years old

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

Dear Sara,
.
I can assure you this going all in, this stepping on it, and this upleveling like a mf, when at the same time feeling the same joyous August excitement I used to have when I was still a yoga teacher and could theme my next year;
That this did not come peacefully.
.
It wasn’t like I suddenly had a deep insight into what now seems God’s Divine Plan for my life, happily playing with that card deck I showed you, the one I created two weeks after my birthday that contained pictures of my dreams and desires.
My calling came after a lot more drama and despair.
But now that I see the big picture, or at least the potential of the upcoming year, the deck does start to make more sense.
.
The card deck contained, among many other things, pictures of what I considered to be role models or my different identities.
The picture with this blog post is Madonna at 23 years old.
I could understand why I had selected that photo to be in the deck, since my main project for this pseudonym LS Harteveld is still my 1995 project.
The time when I was 23 old.
Obviously, the Madonna was supposed to represent “me”, Lauren in 1995.
.
The 1995 project is about being a 23 year old Lauren Harteveld, a college graduate, who saw her first year as a working young woman fall into f’ing bits. 

A year where she has been working for a publisher, mostly from home.
A year where she lost her lover Bear, because he wanted to have a quote unquote real relationship, or at least that’s how she translated his announcement her five year affair was no longer to be consumed.
By now Bear has proven he does still appreciate their friendship, and he’s actually a better friend to her than he was during their affair.
But still.
Lauren has lost something that was very dear to her, and the discrepancies between her and Bear are accumulating.
Before his one year contract with a prestigious financial firm expired, he already landed himself a better job, which allowed him to start traveling the world and to run his own hustle.
A privilege rarely given to someone his age, where doing office face-time and making sure you were seen by the right people was usually all you could do for your career.
.
Bear had outdone her in the areas of relationships as well as career, and by now she didn’t even feel worthy of his love anymore.
She had lost a full year.
A year where, yes, she had figured out she wanted to be a writer. Or that she already was a writer and she should start monetizing it.
But that was months ago.
And she had done little to nothing to turn her life around, and didn’t know how.
She didn’t even like the ass-sitting hours of being a writer, and her goal was to have less of them.
So how then, was she going to be a writer?
Did she/ I even have what it takes?
.
I don’t know if I told you this, but the card deck was composed in an intuitive way. It contained pictures of things I found important to be part of my future vision, but of many I didn’t fully understand what they represented.
And then a second “layering” was added, where I – also intuitively – sequenced them.
Some parings were logical, like all the yoga cards together.
But some didn’t make sense to me at all.
One was the Madonna card.
To a certain level I could understand why I had looked for a photo of the 23 year old Madonna, and yet its presence especially at a crucial point in the card deck, right before pictures of what I assume will be my next boyfriend, didn’t make sense.
Why had I (under divine guidance, let’s hope) put this picture there?
.
Why had I linked reawakening my inner Madonna to Love, instead of to Success?
It would have made more sense in my real estate section, which closed the card deck and contained a card of a beautiful apartment building, copious amounts of Jon Bon Jovi pictures on stage, and countless interiors in different combinations of the colors white, black, and a dominant red. 
The real estate slash Jon Bon Jovi section did not contain an “identity card”; No card of “me- as this person who has all these things” was present.
So if Madonna was apparently to become a role model once more, and in particular her beginning years where she lived in New York, still “Livin’on a Prayer” so to speak;
Then why wasn’t she in the real estate slash success section of the deck?
Why had the Madonna 1981 card landed at number 4, in what I called my big arcade, similarly to the Tarot?
.
I m not exactly sure yet, but ever since I got up this morning with the vision of what my 2020-2021 (my 1995-1996) was going to look like, I do understand one thing;
That real estate section or not, the image of the 23 year old Madonna is the key to my success.
.
She did not land at the number 4 spot to illustrate that I had to become her in order to get the man on number 3, 5 and 6, whom I thought must have been a representation of my “main boyfriend”.
.
Oh and by the way his pictures, and how omnipresent they were in the deck, was another intuitive choice that had baffled me.
Because if they stood for whom I thought they stood for, I didn’t see how that man, the man I thought it represented, would ever come into my life. 
.
So initially I had been using a literal interpretation of the sequencing of the cards.
With regard to the man on card 3,5 and 6, and Madonna in between, I had taken it as:

“Become 23 year old Madonna and the man in the pictures shall be yours.”
And with regard to my real estate section and JBJ’s presence:
“Run your business like the Jersey Syndicate (the name Bon Jovi used to refer to themselves in the late 80s) and all this wealth shall be yours.”
But I felt a shift.
A big one.
And it was a happy one, considering I had been spending I think 48 hours or so, immobilized by my phobias closing in on me.
.
The same social phobias that had been haunting me since my teens, caused havoc in my sex life for decades, and that miraculously seemed to have slept through the first five months of inconsistent, confusing Dutch Covid regulation.
And JUST when I was letting down my guard.
And JUST as I had decided to stop giving fucks about trying to please everyone and be a perfect example of Covid Responsibility, and start taking more risks in the social life and sex life department;
It was back.
.
I was offered a job interview at the end of days of social debauchery and totally froze up.
The thought of something (Or someone, Sara! Or someone!) that I had engaged with (this was a euphemism) for the last 14 days, would report me to our health services as someone they had “spent more than 15 minutes with in the same room” (oh, more euphemisms Sara), that these sweet moments of human interaction would end up being clinically dissected by health services?
Totally unacceptable.
Totally.
.
I DO value sex enough to risk sickness, two weeks of quarantine and being not the safest person to meet. My friends and family make a conscious choice to see me, and I have been vocal for months that sex is coming back on the agenda. Covid or no Covid.
But the thought that if I have sex while I am also “in the loop” with a workplace?
That my social and sexual indulgence is going to spill over into having conversations with the temp agency and coworkers?
Phobias the way I had not experienced them in decades!
.
God, what a cluster fuck it was.
.
My first response to being back at trembling anxiety and sleepless nights was to cancel IT ALL, in order to be able to work.
So to cancel all contact with friends, family, lovers, for the upcoming 12 to 18 months or as long as it took, in order to be clean enough to work.
I would make up some excuse for this current job offer, and start clean in the second week of September.  
That way my social and sex life was orderly, orderly meaning non-existent.
No residues left.
As long as I would maintain a social anorexic state, I would never have to have embarrassing conversations since all exposure would have been in service of God and Mankind.  
.
My conscience would be as clear as a saint’s, since I would not have any real life, aside from the workplace one.
.
As incredibly clever as that was, I ultimately did not choose for this solution as the thing that was going to save me.
But I did do two other things.
.
The first thing I decided was to find help for my returning phobia.
I had successfully beaten its first 15+ year round in my life, where I autonomously conquered the hiv/aids phobia that had limited my sex life and had set me off on the wrong foot, pursuing long-term monogamous relationships which did not excite me one bit.

Not even when I was 17.
But due to Covid and a messy week of new government regulation being declared by decree, then pulled back through push-back from opposition, and ultimately GASLIT UPON US- 
the fears were back.
It was as if all the things I had done to tackle the first phobia, had failed, and the beast now had two heads where there once had been one.
I was not going to do this alone, again.
.
I always heard phobias are kind of like psychology’s 101. You could be cured by the intern so to speak, that’s how simple phobias are supposed to be.
So this made me decide if they ever returned, I would not go through the hassle of solving them myself.

Already the first night of having my demons return to me, I emailed the psychotherapist who would have done my diagnosis, had I still needed help at the beginning of this year.
I wrote her a letter, stating that although the problems for which I had been referred in 2019 had been handled by myself successfully, old fears dating back to the 80s had come back to haunt me.
Awakened from their dormant sleep by Covid.
And that I was hoping I could be treated by their practice, or receive a referral to a colleague.
.
So that is, to me at least, definitely a surprise. That I actually asked for mental health help, since I was so done with it earlier.
But also, when I didn’t need it anymore, earlier. 
.
If all goes well – and my healing is complete! – not only will I be able to sport having a job or any social or sexual interaction of my choosing next to a career of being, eh, Madonna I guess!
I will also calmly carry the responsibility of this human interaction.
Including the responsibility of having an unusual sex life that will never be your average transparent, run of the mill, monogamous relationship.
I will be at peace with the fact that human interaction comes at a price.
And with the fact that my body is a chemical weapon that calls for having your entire social circle being round up like the a terrorist organization and suffering government repercussions for taking your mini-chemical warfare body out into the streets to go grocery shopping.
.
As you might have picked up, I am not quite there yet, in terms being judged on whether or not I am or am not an open sewer today.
And if I could have known I was an open sewer because I showed signs of being an open sewer or because I have been into contact with people who were showing signs of being open sewers.
Where open sewer can be replaced by “chemical bomb”, “radioactive waste” or “leper”.
But hey!
Psychology 101 right?
Let the healing begin.
.
Since I seem to be the only one who translates every traceable human interaction into the possibility of two weeks of quarantine and your entire social network hearing from local health services your reckless behavior has risked their lives and all their loved ones to the third degree;
I m clearly missing the Don’t Worry Be Happy take on things.
I m making this way too difficult.
.
Just like my entire generation, except me, managed to cheerfully develop their sex lives and ignore the Aids/hiv brochures our government printed in blood spatter, I kid you not.
Even in the 80s letting yourself get upset by the combination of social control with deadly diseases, was for softies.
Every intern knows that.
.
Forgive me for my rant, although I imagine it does illustrate why for me the idea of having heavy ass shit like this follow me into the workplace, is unthinkable without breaking into a cold sweat.
.
So that was ONE!
One major thing I did in the wake of those events.

I asked for help for the two headed phobia monster that was now chasing me, instead of taking it on by myself.
I mean, why would you, when its psychology 101 right?
Oh, and there’s me being sarcastic again.
.
So anyway, realizing that the practical job in a non-office, non-desk working environment, was in Covid times not going to be the easy going social activity I fancied it to be, put my immediate future into a whole different light.
If working among other people was basically mY wOrSt fEaR right now, then what?
.
Was I going to squeeze it in regardless, or do something entirely different with month 7 to 13 of the Covid era?
.
And there it was.
.
The vision.
.
The thing I had been chasing for so long!
I have not unpacked it fully, to be honest. But from the first look of it, everything is in there.
It’s like an IKEA box, that you still have to put together yourself and we all know that might take a day where you thought it would be 30 minutes;
But who remembers that in years to come when your utilitarian but also beautiful piece of furniture has taken its rightful place in your living space, and gives you joy everyday?
No one remembers the day of unpacking then.
Of wondering how it would all fit together.
No one will even remember that if something was missing or if you needed extra tools to put it together, that you went back to the store, or borrowed a hammer from a neighbor you had never spoken to before.
It’s all forgotten.
.
Today is the day not of my new bookshelves but of my vision.
And in the end all that will be remembered is its happily ever after presence in my life.
.

My vision PART 1: Made by Lauren

.
Although my vision encompasses all areas of my life, it is really rooted in this pseudonym, in the work I do as LS Harteveld.
And specifically in the project Lauren 1995.
.
In my vision I see Lauren moving away from working full-time at the publisher’s (a job I invented to cover me publishing my own books), into:
.
– Lauren 1995 working only part-time, like one or two days a week, as a copy-editor.
.
– Lauren 1995 publishing her own diary 1994- 1995
Just like Anais Nin, she’s going to do it herself.
.
– writing her second book, the 1995-1996 diary
This was an offline “endeavor” or at least it would have been, if I had been writing anything!
Aside from small daily notes in my journal.
But in combination with cleaning up my love life (see, The Vision part 2), I think 1995-1996 could be written online.
I haven’t decided yet.
.
And finally I “created” a new job, which ties Lauren 1995 to current day me, writing and YouTubeing about Bon Jovi under my real name;
.
– Lauren 1995 is going to create all the material for the Bon Jovi fan club
.
Under my real name I have a YouTube channel discussing old Bon Jovi concerts, and I have a website with Bon Jovi related stories.
And although I ve been in heart and soul, with Lauren 1995;
I always knew this work under my real name was my future.
That it was My Thing!
.
But I also knew that I would have to tie it into the 1995 project of my pseudonym. That I needed the best of both worlds.
.
Giving Lauren 1995 a job as content-creator avant la lettre, for the Bon Jovi fanclub;
That’s IT, Baby!
A 23 year old Lauren, reviewing concerts of her favorite band, writing about them. It’s like a crossover between being a VJ (remember those?) and a rock journalist (remember those? Sadly one of the professions we seemed to have decimated with the coming of the internets) gives the 1995-me a way to interact with what I do online in the real world.
.
Lauren 1995 is going to work for the Bon Jovi fanclub three to four days a week.
That is part of my vision.
.
And here’s the other part of my vision, where I incorporate the lessons from the panic attacks and the recurring social phobia:
.

My vision PART 2: my love life and social life are clean and simple

.
Call it a Covid thing, call it a focus thing, but when I manage to get the funds to kick-start this year, or nine and a half months it is; I do not have time for drama.
I do not have time for occasions, events, and people, who might come at unforeseen costs.
For example.
If you now go to a bar or cinema, you may be contacted by health services and lose two weeks of your life to quarantine.
For STRANGERS.
Simply because you were in the same space for longer than 15 minutes.
Don’t have time for that, ain’t gonna risk it, sorry!
No more cinema and no indoor cafes and restaurants, unless there is an extreme case of exception going on.
.
But this is also why I’m not going to work for a temp agency, or for another job, in the upcoming months:
I can’t waste another night or nights worrying about who I am going to infect, and if I should or should not go to work because I sneeze one time too many.
Until I can be around people without my phobias being triggered (this is where I put my faith in good therapy), or until loneliness from running my own book biz starts wearing me down, until I start missing having a sexual secretive affair, or need the money of a normal job;
I m going to stay away from anything that gets under my skin.
Jobs with in person colleagues, cafes, cinemas, and secret affairs.

For the upcoming year, year and a half, I m going to keep an impeccable clean social rep sheet, and focus on my art and my message instead.
.

My vision PART 3: What the Madonna Card really meant

Part 3 is the final part of the vision, as I have seen it today.
.
Before I get to that, I have not told you why it’s 9 months. And why now, in August. Although maybe I told you a bit of why now;
Because I m always inspired by the school year.
.
Most yoga teachers end their classes early June. And if you re in your final year of high school, you have exams and they end late May as well.
June is the month where you get your diploma, and the month the yoga courses end.
So I m setting up my year to start in September, and end on June 13:
The day of the Bon Jovi concert in 2019
.
I m seeing it as a year to create my own education, my own business. Creating the foundations of a new life.
.
So, the final part of the vision:
The 1981 Madonna.
.
Contrary to my initial assumption that “she” stood for the woman I would be, or would have to become, for the man on card 3, 5 and 6, the early Madonna stands for determination to rule the world.
I think it was a 1983 interview where the host asks her what she wants to achieve and she answers; “To rule the world.”  
.
By that time she had lived in a cockroach infested apartment where she ultimately left the door open when she went out, because she was tired of thieves breaking her locks and having to replace them every time.
.
She had to overcome sexual assault, when she was molested on a rooftop by a stranger with a knife, without anyone to talk to but her walls.
I can’t remember if she stared into a mirror or at photos of her idols, that were a representation to her of what she wanted to achieve.
But I remember her saying this was the moment when she wondered if she should just give up on her dream and go back home or have a normal career.
She asked herself: 

“How bad do I want this?”
The rest is legend.
.
My phobia was always the same; It was a social phobia.
Whether it was linked to aids/hiv, to Covid, or to a plain and dull version of being judged and having them talk behind your back because they don’t understand you and therefor keep looking for reasons to hate you.

The phobia was always something that had to be dealt with, before I would push through and make it big.

The .phobias returning were my night of looking at my own walls, of looking in the mirror, pondering;
“How bad do I want this?”
.
I want all of it.
..
.

~Suzanne/ Lauren
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

I usually don’t do this, but if you’re interested in following my Bon Jovi related content under my real name, you’re invited to follow the following accounts:
YouTube
Rock Star Writer (blog)
Rock Star Writer Facebook
my personal Twitter under my real name

Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.


ABOUT ME

I am Suzanne, the real name of Lauren Harteveld,
Lauren/ LS Harteveld was my second identity under which I wrote about sex, relationships, pop culture, from 2006 to 2020.
Lauren is now in 1995, so she will write offline for us.
Her first year 1994-1995 is available online:

.
coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

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.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

I’m playing the “Pick It Up From There”- Card

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

Dear Sara,
.
Over the two years we’ve been working together, I ve frequently told you that my life was in total mayhem, until the final day or hours where I had to write you an update, before it suddenly all fell into place.
When I confessed this to you, you always assured me that if I would show up, in my total messiness, we’d just “pick it up from there”.
Although I had no idea what that meant, or what kind of magic trick you would have up your sleeve to untangle my mental mess and mayhem, I still found that enormously reassuring.
.
And I think it is today, that I will pick you up on that offer.
If it still stands.
.
The good news is: “There”, as in a place where you don’t know where to start or what to write your coach, is not a bad place to be at all.
It’s very quiet.
It wasn’t when my life was tumultuous, when I would be needing to take you up on that offer;

It is now, when I feel I m in the eye of the storm.
.
There is nothing here.
Everything has come to a halt, and everything I was working on seems irrelevant.
Like I need to stop writing.
.
When I went through this blog I saw about 6 cases of me wanting to stop writing, wanting to stop being LS Harteveld, or a combination of the two.
And this blog is not even two years old.
.
The reason I have temporarily stopped writing now, is because of a heatwave.
I abandoned or brought to a halt all projects I was currently working on, and am offline for five days.
It’s like a holiday.
I had the intention of writing offline/ journaling my blog posts and type and post them when the heat has subsided.
But I find myself not interested in writing offline at all.

Even though my biggest project, here on this site, would definitely benefit from a little working in advance, because I m going to be pressed for time to finish it in the time I said I would.
.
This project is a six week project;
Half July I started writing Facebook notes, and recently I bundled them to a blog post called;
“Demons and Daemons” a Facebook novella by Suzanne/Lauren
A diary that covers three weeks, out of which I wrote fifteen days.
After posting it, I started a new series, which I called The Book Club, and that was initially just to repost the novella into more bite-sized posts.
I don’t necessarily think everybody should read all my stuff, but I do believe in keeping it manageable.
Since I write because I have an internal need to do so, keeping it manageable is almost impossible, because writing happens when it happens.
But for instance by posting on Facebook first, instead of here on the blog, I can prevent overflowing your mailbox with 15 messages.
Instead you get one novella.
.
However, this brought the new problem that it was a bit much.
And before I knew it I had split them up – sending them out chapter by chapter after all – BUT! 

Also adding an entire new layer to them.
.
Where the three weeks I had written Demons and Daemons on Facebook had been somewhat of a journey into darkness, and then me marrying the demon or daemon of my Writing, giving it a happy end;
The layer I was adding in the chapter-by-chapter Book Club was exactly the opposite.
.
It was light and optimistic. I would say enlightened.
The Book Club notes or introductions to the three week journey into darkness, were a journey into the light.
They would be a similar three week journey, but from an entirely different perspective.
.
The perspective of someone who has made her peace with being a writer, and has committed to showing up daily for her art.
Just like a marriage would have you show up daily.
.
But instead of a happy end, the marriage with Writing was taking over my life.
The posts for The Book Club (the two books together, The Book Club and Daemons and Demons, will be called A Journey Into Unknown) but also posts for my Rock Star Writer account under my real name;
I wrote and wrote the days after the “wedding”.
Meanwhile thinking;
How on earth am I going to publish my books if I write 5 hours a day?
.
How on earth am I going to enjoy a fun and social job, and be saved from myself and all the writing, if my minimum daily writing requirement exceeds that of what you’d have spare after you came home after work?
.
How am I going to live the life of a successful online author who communicates every day on all her accounts – I still believe showing up for writing includes showing up to share it – and writes and or reposts every day and have a life as well?
.
How can I spend time with a real man, real lovers, if my marriage to Writing devours everything?
.
How do I avoid that being committed to Writing – the only thing that has always been there for me the last 14 years – doesn’t become like being in an abusive relationship?
Was my wedding post to Writing a declaration of love or a case of auto-Stockholm syndrome where I was loyal to my oppressor?
Was my muse in reality a hostage taker?
.
As I was still trying to figure that out, the heatwave started.
And on day 3, as I was limiting the hours the cats could have their water fountain on (they do have two water bowls, before you fear I m limiting their access to water) to minimize heat by electrical devices, I realized that this hot weather, which will only get worse because the nights stay warmer so the house doesn’t cool off, that this is no time to use to computer.
That I need to go offline.
Holiday granted by the Universe, so to speak.
.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, a holiday from writing.
.
No more The Book Club.
No more The Box Set or Live From London, both series for my Rock Star Writer account.
And publishing my books with my hard drive in overdrive for hours on end, is not going to happen until our temperature stays under 30 degrees (86 Fahrenheit)
.
So one week after I committed to writing, the whole thing fell apart for the first time in 14 years.
And although my ego is slightly upset by The Book Club/ Map To Unknown being in severe risk of never being finished;
Part of me thinks it’s a sign that it should never ever be finished.
The part that likes not being able to write.
And it’s a big part.
.
Even this post was supposed to be a private email to you, until I realized I was not going to keep the only time in two years I have nothing to offer, and play the “Pick It Up From There”- Card, go by in silence.
That I wanted this in a blog post where I would one day read it again.
.
It is so freeing to just have it be decided for me.
For the first time in 14 years, I can’t write because it’s so hot I should not be using my computer.
And seeing that even if I had continued, I would not have liked how I was spending my days, being enslaved by writing, daily messaging, and using reposts if I have not written anything that day;
It’s all far too heavy.
.
So I don’t know, Sara.
But I think that’s where we’ll pick it up.
.
Maybe what I m feeling is best comparable with when your lover or partner leaves you in kind of a matter of fact way.
And although you had chosen for him and had a lot of future plans together, and thought he’d be in your life forever, you find out the relief of all that space coming available now that he has left,
is more dear to you than his presence ever was.
.
 Warm regards,
.
.

Suzanne/ Lauren
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.


ABOUT ME

I am Suzanne, the real name of Lauren Harteveld,
Lauren/ LS Harteveld was my second identity under which I wrote about sex, relationships, pop culture, from 2006 to 2020.
Lauren is now in 1995, so she will write offline for us.
Her first year 1994-1995 is available online:

.
coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

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.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

My Midlife Crisis Blew Up At Lightspeed

At 1:30 the resistance cruiser blows through the Star Destroyer at lightspeed.
After a 10 second time delay, follows the swooshing sound effect.

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

Dear Sara,
.
One of the scenes in The Last Jedi I looked forward to every time I went to see the movie at the theater, was the one where the resistance ship crushes the battleship from the First Order by flying through it.
You can’t hear anything, you just get the visual of the triangular shaped spaceship being cut in half by a thin flash of light.
And then the blow comes much later.
.
Many get a chance to escape but ultimately all that remains are burned scrapes of metal flying around space.
It is over.
That is how I feel now, after years and years of misery and battle looking back.
Like being under siege for years on end, and finally losing the big and nasty thing that was firing at me.
And that here too, the silence after impact is so suspenseful but exciting! 
And when you finally hear the blow it has a velvety quality to it.
.
The past ten days so much has happened, that I almost don’t know where to start explaining it.
The most important change is that I feel like an entirely different person.
.
Last Friday I turned 48, and yoga wisdom related to the chakras explains why this shift was so immediate and almost tangible.
Because women go through cycles of 6 years per chakra.
That means on my 48 birthday I flipped out of the much dreaded 1st chakra period, which has been haunting me and has made life impossible.
Just like having a Star Destroyer hovering over you for 6 years.
.
When you’re born you start at the first chakra.
And girls move up to the second at six, boys at seven. This way, we enter a new phase every six or seven years.

So at 7 chakras x 6 years = 42 years old women are done, and they start at “1” again.
Men take 7 years per chakra so they enter this first chakra at 49 years old to 56.
And they re the ones who express it in the classic midlife crisis way;
Buying a motor cycle, taking plastic surgery, and having affairs with women half their age.
Some start a second family.
.
It’s all really just a matter of privilege, because women have the same midlife crisis from 42 to 48 years old.
But because they usually have more obligations with regard to taking care of their children and parents, or even have professions where people are depending on them, they are usually not liberated enough to just go straight into go-fuck-yourself-mode.
They have to appear serious and committed and have to mask it as Going Through Serious Stuff.
Make Meaningful Decisions.
And the fact that I know more women struggling with their health in their forties, than I know men who struggle with their health in their early fifties, indicates to me that some women even have to get sick before they feel it’s okay to take some time off and to start caring for themselves instead of others.
.
Reality is that a female midlife crisis is usually not the extravagant feast the men treat themselves to.
.
Looking back I can say I had the female midlife crisis.
Just like other women I blew up my entire career, turned my back on many things and lost a lot of my friends.

It was as if everything that wasn’t 100% aligned might have been allowed to stay in the beginning, but that ultimately my 1st chakra time was destined to be a time of great cleansing.
Nothing that wasn’t 100% pure would make it till the dawn of the 24 th of July, 2020.
It would all be purged from my life, or blown up in the finale when at light speed the Star Destroyer that my midlife crisis was, would be cut in half and left to die.
.
Even the last week, I was helped by the Universe to get clarity on a subject my former lover and me had been trying to avoid.
And that’s done now.
Everything, is done.
It’s over.
.
In the 1st chakra time, from my 42nd until last Friday, I didn’t get sick, I didn’t get pregnant, I didn’t find a man and settled down blissfully with my final-chance-baby;
All things many women in their forties do, and all things that would have horrified me.
.
Instead I only ended my yoga career and was treated to an exclusive and highly sexual affair, that in particular in the first two years brought me great joy and pleasure.
The final three years were harder, as he contacted me less frequently and I was forced to think about nitty gritty shit like:
“If I am not chosen as a real partner, and he contacts me ever fewer and fewer times-
when comes the time I should be the one to end it?
When can the euphoria no longer outdo the sadness?
If I m okay being second fiddle, how about third fiddle, fourth? How about once a year fiddle?
For how long can I take this?”
.
But now that it’s over I can say:
“What a fantastic way to spend a midlife crisis, fussing over boys!”
I really got the long end of the stick, with my midlife crisis.
Punned.
.
My lover broke up with me in December, but there were still unresolved things which needed to be addressed, before I could get closure.
And it was as if the devil was behind me, the speed with which I managed to get that done before my birthday.
For three years I had been questioning myself about our relationship, something that did not end in December with our “official” split.
I needed more, I needed to hear it again.
.
So I put a lot of thought and effort into it, but still the clarity, the happiness, and the joy of starting anew on the morning after my 48th birthday surprised me.
.
And I have even more to be excited about because next to closing my 6 years of 1st chakra struggles;
I feel I ve finished a cycle of 14 years as a single.
14 Years of finding out my sexuality and relationship style.

All done! I found what I had set out to do and I also know  I m not going to invest another minute in my love life ever again.
.
I know now why dating has been such an ordeal, and it is all a lot more simple than I thought.
Of course, there is the whole needing tension and excitement thing, and having complex sexual preferences. But there is something else as well.
In my teens and twenties, relationships were formed from just hanging out and screwing each other’s brains out, and at some point you were like;
Oh, it’s been six months and we re still doing that, so maybe this is a thing.”
Whereas when I became single in my thirties, and this goes on until today, people are recruiting for a vacancy they have in their life.
If you’re unfit for the job of filling the position, you’re out.
There is no time for hanging out, other than with the intention of building a long term relationship or filling up the time until you have found someone better suited for your future plans and then you dump killing time date A and move on to potential life partner B.
There’s also bachelors who avoid intimacy, who guard their heart and who dump you after a couple of times either way.
Those are the options of dating as an adult.
14 years in and I m vowing to never give that cluster fuck of a sick dynamic one teensy tiny bits worth of attention ever again.
T
he only person I m ever willing to let into my heart is the one who has tons of time for me doing crazy shit and binge watch all seasons of Lucifer without leaving the house.
.
14 Years of research on my love life to find out I will probably never find real (organically grown) love because of a time management problem tied to adulthood.
I find that depressing, Sara.
.
So!
Speaking of time management, I now have a lot of time on my hands!
And I m finally going spend it on becoming the 7-Figure Rock Star Writer I ve been aspiring to be for at least two years.
I think it clicked during our last call, when you said you can only create an empire if you saw that as your dominant creative expression.
After so many years of writing, I m so ready to move away from this desk!
To see my creativity as coming from the mind, and I long particularly to bypass using writing to shape my thoughts.
It has become slightly maddening, to have to write so much in order to think.
So one of my main objectives is to limit that, and to only write in the final stage.
.
I think I told you all there is.

This account is now managed by the me under my real name, Suzanne, and I ve picked up writing (illegally) for Facebook, where I m signing off with Suzanne/ Lauren.
Being Lauren from 2006-2020 has become a part of who I really am.
The real, pure Lauren is in 1995, she will write from there and I will print it at a later date.
https://laurenharteveld.com/1994-a-performance-art-project/
.
It’s Monday now.
An exciting week!
I ll be spending it looking for a normal non-desk job, to which I look forward very much, but I ll also start or pick up publishing my work.
I ve created the real, new and updated list of books (way more than the 5 mentioned at the bottom of this post) and I ve got 10 so far.
So ten books are to be expected, from Lauren Harteveld.
All written between 2010 and 2020.
.
The resistance ship the Raddus going through the Star Destroyer at light speed.

I have had the vision of seeing myself as a Rock Star Writer, a 7-Figure Rock Star Writer, as early as 2018.
But it was always in and then out of focus.
It was like it was impossible to escape something big and bad pulling me back.
Exactly like the resistance ship the Raddus, that couldn’t get away from the Star Destroyer.
Every time it jumped to light speed they were tracked and the Star Destroyer was right behind them.

Ultimately the resistance evacuated the ship in tiny transporters, and Captain Haldo takes their nemesis head on by turning the cruiser around and using the last bit of fuel to blast it at light speed through the Star Destroyer.
.
“I” evacuated my LS Harteveld account; my pseudonym Lauren now lives in 1995.
And Suzanne is the captain Haldo who has blasted the midlife crisis that was standing between her and becoming a Rock Star Writer.
And she’s still enjoying the blissful silence and the velvety sound that followed.
.

Suzanne/ Lauren
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

With this post, I m picking up writing to Sara on this blog.
And I ll also post updates on when the books are ready.
You can follow this blog – the subscribe button is somewhere on this page, usually on the top right.

I also write as Suzanne/Lauren on our
Facebook page LS Harteveld
(illegal blogging)

And under my real name Suzanne:
Facebook page Rock Star Writer
And  rock star blog under my real name.

Books LS Harteveld/ Lauren

Lauren’s books are available at LULU
New books will also be added to Lulu, as sites are being curated.

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

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.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

The Week I Left It All Behind

photo: My new series “It Took me A Very Long Time To Get Here” is on Facebook and Twitter. Click for more info.

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

.
Dear Sara,
.
It is almost ironic that from two weeks of “OMG there’s SO MUCH I have to tell Sara!” I’m here behind my computer with exactly one Bon Jovi cd worth of time to write you about, yes, about what?
It all seems so entirely pointless.
I even considered calling this blog post Bullet Point Men, because I feel torn between giving a super emotionally involved update about my feelings about two men in my life on one hand; And a bullet point memo that the good part of our plan we/ I came up with in our last session, and the things I still felt that week, is now gone entirely.
So let’s start there, and see how many songs I have left afterwards.
.
You know – I even thought of not writing at all, and simply emailing that I didn’t know what to write. That’s how pointless it all seemed.
Either way, the biggest shift, objectively speaking, was realizing that over a week after our last call, I still had not set up the new blog and new YouTube channel to stay engaged in my love for marketing and sales.
And I now know why.
Because the day after our call, I got inspiration to start a new career as a computer programmer. I learned the basics at university, and already have the materials to educate myself this summer.
It would allow me to start a new career that doesn’t have anything to do with toning down or adapting my creative skills, nor my marketing skills, to a job that would only allow me to do a part of it.
To write for SEO.
Market for leads.
All the while having to communicate with non-autistic people, with whom, let’s face it, my patience is extremely limited.
Computer programming would also allow me to have a job that actually pays, instead of having one that would constantly be on the verge of being given to an intern instead.
But just like the job in marketing:
I still have not started.
.
Part of it is because of a financial task (again) which I m behind on for months. It s probably one or two days of work, but I have not put it in, and do not want to start with this new thing, until I have that done.
Next to fear of not being good enough (or motivated enough) causing this procrastination, I also think it’s because I have some mourning to do.
That ultimately NOTHING is going to satisfy me, except making art all day.
And that I feel like I m throwing away my life, doing anything else.
.
Maybe I need to reframe this switch in careers – which DOES have the added benefits of (bullet points!)
– putting me in a male dominated environment of men whom I understand and love to hang out with
– giving me specialized work
– excusing me from many of all other forms of human interaction all other professions do require
– giving me intellectually challenging work
– DEEP work, with large uninterrupted blocks of time
– allowing me to think at an extremely abstract level, which is something I absolutely love
Where other jobs almost always mean some kind of partial task, that has zero satisfaction, no meaning, no purpose; Programming isn’t any of those things.
Every part of programming is whole in its own way.
One way I m already reframing it, when I m not worrying about this financial task that is, is by imagining 22 year old Lauren has quit her job at the publisher’s, and starting as a programmer in 1995.
It gives it a lighter feel!
But considering how stuck I still am, it obviously needs a lot more lighting up before I am really excited.
Or maybe I need to see how I m still going to do my own art work after 6 P.M..
But it was during this whole trail of thought about becoming a computer programmer, that I lost ALL my interest in being of any service with anything and everything but IN PARTICULAR with regard to marketing and sales!
Marketing and sales, even in the form of a free-advice YouTube channel and blog, were just way too pragmatic to be combined with already giving my life to a craft I had not chosen naturally.
That I was not called to.
Marketing had to go.
Giving advice had to go.
Everything had to be stripped to its core, until only the pure, raw, dare I say unsaleable core of my expression remained.
If I was really going to be serious being of use as a computer programmer, this could only be counterbalanced by not investing anything in making my other work more polished, user-friendly, more accessible or more understandable.
My other work needed to be impossible to capture. And marketing and sales as a metier, as well as a skill for promoting my own work, would probably have to be ritually sacrificed in order to be okay with giving my life to something useful.
I could only make myself be of use in one place, if I was allowed to blow something of use up, on the other side.  
I did start setting up the system that would allow people to pay me, but it’s very slow, because I first need some changes with the Chamber of Commerce, and if I would then proceed, I would need to open a business account, then apply for our local payment system, and then a daughter of the local payment system is software that is for donations (not payments).
So I m thinking if I still feel invested enough in this plan, to follow through.
I think I need to reallign with my goals on this:
For me it is clear that I can’t be serious about becoming a programmer, and at the same time have ANY sort of client relationship – not even donations! – going on on the side.
Maybe that is the biggest catch for becoming a computer programmer, I feel it sucking the life out of my energy to monetize my art.
Maybe it was a stupid idea after all, even though work wise, the work and the environment of being a programmer, appeals to me very much IN THEORY.
In practice I sometimes think art is such a veracious monster, that any idea of anything else being able to breathe let alone blossom, within a ten mile radius, is absolutely ridiculous.
Sometimes I think my art is going to claim my life, and that I keep falling for the idea that I can do anything else that is not art.
Maybe if I see computer programming as a temporary solution, I would be able to do it.
I don’t know.
The entire plan seems stuck and perhaps already floating belly up, what do we know.
Either way, a lot happened, yet I seemed to have gone around in circles.
I have three Bon Jovi songs to tell you about the men.
You remember our MBTI sessions, the 16 personality types of Myers Briggs?
I found out Jon Bon Jovi is an ENFJ.
Not just because he is typed like that by the expert I hold in the highest regard,
this is the link to the very short but brilliant test he designed for MBTI typing
but I could also recognize Jon Bon Jovi in ENFJ roll model Ethan Hawke, in this clip from Before Sunrise. Even the voices are similar;

[ text continues below video ]
YouTube is filled with videos about how the INFP (me) and the ENFJ are the perfect match, the perfect mix between the same and being different.
They re both thirsty for meaning and purpose and act intuitively, but ENFJ does it in a push forward way and requires conversation to discover his feelings and determine his stand, whereas the INFP requires a lot of alone time, and knows what their values and stand are.
And I saw the clip with Ethan Hawke and I realized, well first of all I realized why I m fascinated with Jon Bon Jovi, but also – a feeling of complete and utter helplessness:
“Where on earth am I going to find a man like that ever again?”
I mean, I don’t know if my lover was ENFJ. From the fact that we’re not together anymore, I might think he’s not.
But I mean, where do I find a man, who can stand his ground in pursuing a woman?
Who is not consumed with fears and insecurities, all of which are immediately projected onto me? 
It made me appreciative of what we had for five years.
But also gave me a sense that my life was over.
Because regardless of Myers-Briggs, the men who are so stubborn and steady yet playful –
they do not drop out of the sky.
And you can’t code them in either.
..

the writer currently residing in 1995
~Lauren/LS Harteveld

My diaries en erotica are available at my BOOK SHOP

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

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.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/