LS Harteveld

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

Dear Sara,

If I remember correctly, you once told me every artist has two choices.
Either find a way to let creativity pay the bills.
Thereby not just risking the integrity and quality of their work, but to get disconnected from their artistic calling altogether.

Or, alternatively, to choose a job unrelated to their art and losing their creative time but with the payoff of securing their creative freedom.
Now the time which is spent on creativity is free from commercial distractions.

My last letter to you (Timeline Collapse)  had a lot of exposition about my failed Timeline project (living in different timelines ’89, ’99, and 2024) as well as a realization that there had been two distinct 17 year time periods. 
Wondering if I was on to something, and able to predict what the next 17 years were going to be about.

And I quote: “I would say the upcoming 17 year cycle, 2024-2041, is about: Relationships.”
* coughs *

Like you often say: “There is just so much to unpack here.”

In that blogpost I indicated that after the previous 17 year cycle which had revolved around developing my love life and sexual identity, I was now talking about relationships in a broader perspective.
In particular a local job that would provide me with a sense of belonging.

The 17 year long Love and Sex Book, was put to rest because, and I quote again:
“Love and sexual relationships hold no secrets for me.
I really got this.”

The good news is, one month later and I still stand by this.
I do not expect it will be holding secrets for me.

But also;
Going back from the excitement of being a mistress until 2023, and having the best-sex-ever and with the same man, for 8 years?
To now suddenly think you can go raw dogging normal non-sexual relationships?

Of course the fuck not.

From when I was just a child there was only one thing that could hold my interest, and that was sexuality. And I developed myself in that area in a consensual and very age appropriate way.
Although there have always been time periods when there was nothing, from the years when I transitioned from child into teenager, to as recent as my current state.
It is almost my 2 year “anniversary” of the last time I had sex.
But as uncomfortable as I am with it right now, the droughts have always been part of my natural cycle.

As if the intensity of my sexuality makes it necessary that, contrary to most, I need abstinence to process it all.

So although I still understand why, now that I am middle-aged and under the threat of a lonely death bed, I suddenly started fantasizing about partaking in social structures such as working locally;
That, is a farce.

I will only ever be interested in one on one relationships with men.
After that, we have one on one friendships.
After that comes family.
And after that online communities and friendships around areas of interest.

Real-life relationships that are tied to my geographical location are not my thing.
Aging comes with many side-effects but becoming a completely different person isn’t one of them.

So here I am one month later.

And the good news is that the career path I had chosen in October, is coming together so gorgeously!
I will be studying from December to March, and start working in April.

But after sobering up from my head-in-the-clouds ideas about this new path being my ticket to starting connecting to The World again;
I would like to use this letter to put my priorities to paper.
Now that there still is time to create some clarity around it.

First the path itself:
After my studies and certification, in 2025 and 2026 I want to learn the craft in practice, having my first jobs.
This is the only phase I expect (and hope) to be working locally.
2027-2030 I want to work remote, most likely internationally, and for the highest bidder. 
There are a lot of deployment agencies which I think will be able to help me here.
From 2031 and up I want to offer my services independently, and as a package so no longer billed per hour.

I’m not mentioning my craft/skill here, because I think it is not relevant. 
Although I absolutely adore what it is I will be doing, and look forward to it a lot, it doesn’t come close to the joy of writing and engaging in the topics I do for my work under my real name.

So it’s only for the money.

And because of that, I wanted to close this letter with the list of priorities!
Because I will not be the first person to forget all about their art, and why they accepted the normal job in the first place.

So this is my list of passion projects.
Top to bottom: How I would like to spend my time.

1. Living a life worth writing about
   E.g. having kick-ass one on one relationships, incl sexual one(s)
   This also includes my “timeline projects” or living in the past, because when done well that is definitely worth writing about. 
   I like the idea of combining my renewed love life with living in a fictional past of 1999 or 2000.
2. Writing about those adventures!
   For Lauren Harteveld, in particular the Lauren1999 or Lauren2000 timeline (in 2025). 
3. Curating my Lauren Harteveld work 2007 – 2024 and publishing my books
4. Writing and making videos under my real name
5. That’s it, right? Did I forget something?

So in the end, although I look forward to starting this new career next year, I did come down from the idea that it can in any way be fulfilling the way art has been for me.
And that bigger social settings can never become as meaningful as 1-on-1 friendships and dates.
So I should not invest in them.

Looking back on the past 17 years, I think everything went way better than I thought. It was just that career wise I had ended up on the wrong side of capitalism.
Choosing to fund myself, with a profitable career, solves that.

Anais Nin, the 20th century diarist, was financed by her husband Hugo, to whom she stayed married until the end.
Hugo was a banker.
Hugo’s and Anais’ marriage wasn’t easy because they had married very young and Anais developed herself throughout their lives.
She’d even marry a second man, on the West Coast, when Hugo and her official residence was on the East Coast.
She died being married to two men.
A diary covering those final years was published a few years ago, and was fittingly called “Trapeze”.

The way I see it is that my new career, under my real name, means I have become my own Hugo.
I have become my own financier.

So the Anais Nin within me, the Lauren Harteveld within me, can live, write, and most importantly;
Live a life worth writing about.
* insert vegetable emojis *

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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

Dear Sara,

I copied Canva’s last post, and noticed the “08” in the right corner, and remembered the subject I wrote you about last time.

How Pluto has been moving into Aquarius for the past 18 months or so, and since planets do this in retrogade fashion they move in and out of signs the whole time.
Thus far, it has been wiggling between Aquarius, where it is heading, and Capricorn, which has been its home since 2008.

On the 19th of November Pluto will move into Aquarius for the upcoming 14 years.
And the Capricorn cycle it started in 2008, and with it the cycle we humans started then, will end.

So when I copied the Canva and I encountered the 08 mark, although I didn’t change my mind about the subject I will be writing you about (which has little if anything to do with all the 2008 body resolutions of last post) I did think:
“Oh, let’s keep it in there. Just for fun, and you never know. Could be relevant to keep track of Pluto’s journey.”
Even when I have little to add to last post’s wisdom.

Because things have been rocky, but rocky in a mysterious, dark, I would say Scorpio Rising, sort of way.
Which is a nice side note I could very well elaborate on, now that it comes up. In particular since astrology seems to be a bit of a theme for me these months. And also because the Scorpio Rising story is more distinctly defined than the mysterious dark waters of my life in general.

So let’s discuss Scorpio Rising first;
Just like the Sigma Female personality, which I had been studying in the weeks prior to my previous post (and I ID-dropped being a Sigma Female in last post), in much the same way I have been starting to understand my ascendant, which is Scorpio Rising.
It was definitely one of those “managed to miss” things.
I mean, anyone even remotely interested in astrology will have encountered the significance of their rising sign. And in 2018 I had an astrologer telling me face-to-face, Scorpio is a sign that takes over a horoscope because it is so strong.

And yet I waited until 2024- and until the AI generated Sigma Female videos had made me so numb I feared I would lose the ability to write original content if I clicked one more of them-
That I thought: “Why not look for something new, like what that Scorpio Rising in my birth chart means?”

And not only was it an absolute epiphany, could have saved me the last five years of personal development work, it was also an area where AI wasn’t active.
Only genuine astrologers, real people.

Pluto, the planet who is moving us all into the Aquarius Age right now, is the ruler of Scorpio.
It is the Planet of death and rebirth, and it is no coincidence that the people who have Scorpio Rising, maybe even more so than the ones who are a Scorpio Sun Sign;
Are among the most intense you will ever meet.

Prince, the artist, was a Scorpio Rising.
I think I made my point right there, how this astrological information about who I am, could have explained for a lot…..

And in particular with its ruling planet moving us all into a new era, it is not that strange that I feel it is a poignant time for me.
That I should not f – up these last weeks, when we’re finishing up the 2008-2024 cycle.

And yet, the darkness I have been feeling is a different one. It is part new, and part old.

The new part is the Scorpio Woman part.
Because for the love of God, or less divine more diabolical beings, I think I have been making myself SICK, not owning the power that was given to me.

You know I have not been well the past six years, and that I felt like my life was taken from me.
Yes ultimately my health was taken, and still the medication requires temperance in many ways to be effective (Will I ever have my old life back?!), but the unhealthy shift, the feeling that what we call a Life (friends, job, identity, belonging);
That, was taken a very long time ago.
Way before physical health became an issue.

My power, was taken from me.

So the new part I found, is how me not being connected to my own Scorpio Rising-ness, despite having been made aware of its astrological significance in 2018, how that detail is such a powerful symbol for not being in touch with my power.

And as I started dabbling with that, toying with the idea of owning the power of a Scorpio Woman, an insight dropped that even at this moment of writing, has not dropped in completely.
I do not oversee its consequences, all I know is that I cannot afford to be messing with this anymore.

The wisdom that dropped was that the reason I have lost all these years and ultimately my physical health, was because I refused power.
I refused the power that was given to me.
I pretended to be someone who is safe, genuine, and a valuable, loving human because I know myself, I know my own pure heart.

When I am venom for all those, who in any shape or form, are not a match to me.
Those not ready to face their own darkness, or darkness of others.
Those with a more gentle agreeable energy.
Those with every right to stay unconscious of anything in themselves or in the world;

For those, and I know that is just a random and small list of what will no doubt be the majority;
For those I am far, further, the furthest, from safe.

So the Scorpio-managed to miss it, cost me 6 years – energy hit me like a rock, and it was/ is weird!
Although obviously less dramatic, it feels like the category finding out your parents are not your parents or something. 
It messes with your head.

But another older energy also resurfaced. And theme-wise, in retrospect, it is indeed a reminder of how as a teen, I did have access to this strong Scorpio energy.
Something which was long, long gone, by the time 2008 hit, and which therefor cannot be placed into the neat little “Oh let’s do this and this before November 2024” plan, I conjured up in my last blog.

And that older energy came up when I was reading the Heroin Diaries from Nikki Sixx, and I recognized myself in so many things.
His messed up mid-80s junky life and mine.
Except one big difference of course; I have never touched drugs.

Yet for the past 6 years, it has been imploding, seemingly destroyed from the inside out by a malignant force over which I do not have any control and for which I would seek treatment if there existed such a thing!
But there is nothing there.

It’s like if you would tell a child there is no crocodile under the bed; Normally that is a great thing to do.

But I feel like in my bedroom for the past 6 years, we have blood on the walls and small mammals vanishing from the scene;
Maybe there isn’t a crocodile under the bed. But it would explain a hell of a lot, if there was.

Diving into Nikki Sixx’s life, if you could even call it that at the time because he was consumed by the darkness, for the first time I thought;
“If I had been living with an addiction for the last 6 years, it would explain more than what I can explain today.”

Don’t get me wrong, I am deeply grateful that I still have my health in general terms. Although I will be needing this year’s prescription drugs to restore in full, I do not have big physical issues.
And also financially, I do not have the damage I would have had if I had been using drugs.

But by the Gods or those of diabolical origin;
What a mess it has been.
Still is.
Sometimes I don’t know where to begin.
How will I ever recover?

Starting by explaining it with: “Well, Lauren was on drugs for 6 years, and she’s rebuilding her life,” would definitely offer way more of an explanation, than I could offer.
I have no idea why my life looks this way.

Other than my Scorpio Woman In Denial scenario I just shared with you, anyway. The idea that if I had understood what my power was, who I was, none of this would ever have happened.
It’s like complacency and playing small poisoned me.

So back to the 80s and Nikki Sixx. Because it was not just the way my life looks, and the similarities to his, that struck a chord.
It was also the way it is described what it is like to feel high, which resonated with me. That is how I used to feel ALL the time!
But on what?
Was it just when I was in love?
Was it really all the time, as I think it was?
My pain was numbed and I felt boundless pleasure for long periods of time. So long it felt like my natural state, I am sure of it.

But when was this?
And what was the, obviously internal, drug that caused this?

And then the third association that was triggered by this book, was that I used to read books about drug use, as a teen.
There were two, we had a Dutch book (Het Verrotte Leven Van Floortje Bloem, by Yvonne Keuls) that I don’t think ever got translated;
But my main fascination, as I will call it, was with the one translated to English as:
Zoo Station: The Story of Christiane F. 

I even had a clipping, which I sadly didn’t keep, about Christiane F. Late 80s, I think. I probably copied it from a folder at the library where they would keep folders with clippings on a variety of topics.
She had become such an enigmatic strong woman!
But that both books were about teen girls and neither one ended fatally, was the reason they felt important to me.

These girls were literally dancing with the devil, they were dealing with forces no one could contain, let alone a teenage girl;
And yet, they survived.

More than stories about addiction, to me, these were stories about girls who possessed power.
They were both teen prostitutes, but instead of seeing them as a warning I admired them for their tenacity and resourcefulness.
Their incredible strength and resilience.

This is a messy email, I think. It’s certainly not one where I knew beforehand how I was going to make sense of the past couple of weeks, nor how to tie it all together into a neat story.
But I think the gist of it is somewhere along the lines of that in the previous letter, my biggest insight into my personality was that I had started seeing myself through the lens of being a Sigma Female, and my goal was getting myself back to 2008 health and fitness levels, for the astrological purposes of Pluto moving into Aquarius in November.
And because I still need to fix the remaining damage these 6 years have done.

The Pluto in Aquarius time window, was a good opportunity to go all in for the final haul.

Whereas now, the biggest insight in my personality is that I am a Scorpio Rising sign, and that the reason my health and life have been imploding these last years, is the result of me not having been in my power for absolutely decades.

That the teen girl who read books about heroin addiction was in her power, she was familiar with evil and with darkness.
She knew what strength was, and what self-reliance looked like.
She didn’t read personal development books, she didn’t even know what that was.
Well, once: I got a Wayne Dyer book from the library, and started over several times before bringing it back, knowing this would never be for me.

I feel the last few weeks have been about getting in touch with my darker side, and that it is taking me back way further back than 2008.
That in the 90s, I was losing my strength in 1996, 1997, definitely 1998.
But in the 80s and earliest of 90s, I still had it.

Isn’t it strange to realize that all the years of maturing and personal development, all the yoga and the knowledge, you actually manage to miss you got it right the first time.

That technically, you do not even need to know where your birth chart has its rising sign;
Your intuition will tell you all the right things.

Just that I stopped listening.

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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

Dear Sara,

There have been two movies that have changed me this summer: Drive (2011) with Ryan Gosling.
Which pushed me into my Sigma female identity even deeper than weeks of watching YouTube videos on her, had already done.

That he played a Sigma male, not a female, didn’t really make a difference.
If anything, it made the character more relatable to me since I have discovered that although I do not identify as a man, my likes and dislikes are so masculine, I’ve started giving my first disclaimers this summer, as to manage expectations.
Don’t count on my femininity sugar coating things.

The fact that Driver is a criminal, something I do not have the nerves for (not to mention the moral ambiguity), also didn’t make a difference.
Yet Driver’s violence?
Although yes, initially I thought that was among the coincidental things as well, and that I was more drawn to the love story;
Well that violence, can no longer count as a coincidence at all considering the second movie that changed me:

Deadpool.

“Come again. This time in my ears.”

One of the countless sexual jokes, in this R rated movie. And all, left me hungry for more.
Deadpool’s voice is melodic and seductive, and his moves elegant and expressive like a professional dancer.
Which is because if required, such as in the opening scene, they were actually done, by a professional dancer!

But it only shows the importance they have placed on getting it right.
That they understood this character’s physical potential, and didn’t let one drop of Deadpool’s buckets of sexual zest go to waste.

I feel like the introversion of Driver and the extroversion of The Merc with the Mouth, as Deadpool is called (Merc comes from mercenary), touch on two sides of me (Deadpool would now nod at the camera) that I feel are  both necessary to feel whole and complete.

Driver’s introversion and emotional distance are required, both to get more comfortable in my isolation and to get over the still sub-consciously lingering idea that this is some post-pandemic thing that will ever go away;
And Driver’s qualities are also needed to keep me on track in life.
To make calculated decisions how much I want to invest, and where.

The character of Driver represents the power of the lone wolf in me.
The Sigma.

But I only just realized that it is the Deadpool extroversion that I have been denying myself of.
Driver’s introverted dominance, on the other hand? Oh, I think the early 90s movie Basic Instinct and seeing it in theaters a dozen times, told me all about being a poweress, without using muscles!
But I think I missed something these last couple of decades…

Something that could have saved me from feeling so terribly uncomfortable around people, that I have started calling it a straight up phobia.
I’m not shy or something, but to me it feels like it is so necessary, to be dominant in a positive way, in order to make people feel safe, and to therefor be safe myself.

I feel that if you don’t make your mark, deciding on the mood, being in control and setting some boundaries firmer than Wolverine’s adamantium skeleton;
Things start off on a slippery slope on which the only way is down.

Yet I have missed the skills to do that, also because I didn’t know anybody who could dominate the room in such a lighthearted yet dangerously direct manner as Deadpool.
Just like I didn’t know anyone as conscious of her power as the female writer in Basic Instinct.

Like I studied Basic Instinct, I will now study this, until I master it. Just like I have become good at playing the femme fatale dressed in white, whom you just can’t stop thinking about.

So this summer, in its own way, has been action packed.

But the reason this all means significantly more to me, is because there is such a huge astrological event happening now!

You may have heard of the Aquarian Era, which is linked to Pluto’s orbit.
It is moving into Aquarius.

However!
Because planets move in a two or more steps forward, one or less steps back fashion, it takes twenty months between a planet like Pluto moving into Aquarius for the first time, and then moving into it permanently.
In those 20 months, every retrogade it has been moving back into Capricorn.

Now currently though, we are on Pluto’s final retrogade in Capricorn.

On October 12th, it will start moving direct, and on 19th of November 2024, Pluto moves into Aquarius again, where it will stay for 20 years.

And this?
Closes the Capricorn era, the journey each and every one of us started in 2008.
Which journey?
That is something you must figure out for yourself.
But the You of the past 16 years was a different one, than the one you will be after November….

It’s time to take yourself through one more round, and get right what you did wrong.
And wrap up what you did right.

In 2008 my journey in my love life started.
It made me the Basic Instinct mistress I am today, or at least was, until my lover moved away.
We stopped having sex before Pluto hit Aquarius, and I remember that month being the first time I realized I was losing him.

If I interpret the stars correctly, the cycle of Catherine Tramell, the name of the writer in Basic Instinct and the role model with whom I have identified the most, that cycle has ended.
It’s done, it’s internalized. I know her, and I own her power and dominance.
I am her, exactly like a ton of YouTube videos where the maker admits “I am him” about the movie Drive!
I have introverted dominance under my belt *Deadpool steps in with R rated joke*

I m now taking myself back to 2008, the year where I know exactly what I was doing because I was already a diarist (and it’s all in my book Dutch American Diary, bookstore) but I was also a yoga teacher and in the absolute best shape of my life!

And I want that body back, to start all over again. The same body I had in 2008.
I know I can do it, and I will.

Wouldn’t it be great, if I had that to enter this new Plutonian cycle with?!
And I have 77 days to get it.

“What did you just say?”

“I have 77 days to get it”

“No I mean before that.”

“If I had that?”

“You lied! You have no idea if you will be able to get it!”

The Merc with the mouth.
After 16 years of being the writer with the pen, I’m ready for a change.

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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

Dear Sara,

The addition “the rush job” is of course because we pulled our appointment forward by a week, which means that I am now in a hurry to write a blogpost that I could otherwise have thrown thousands of words and a few hours on.

And funnily; I actually prefer it this way.
The thinking about this topic was definitely done, the magic had dropped yesterday.
Shortening the list of topics I will be known for, from about four, all under my real name, to one.

Which in short is, this.
Being LS Harteveld.
A 21st century diarist.

So why did I fall astray?
Why have I been neglecting my Lauren Harteveld work so badly this year that I apparently forgot who I was and what truly mattered to me?
Building a business under my real name, is what happened.

And somewhere along the line, I started taking that too seriously.
I actually started thinking I actually WAS that person.
That my work, and the success, under my real name, really defined who I was, when that was never what it was about.

Its function is to give me a place in the world, the city, the family, the country I am born into.
Because the “real” me, how I indentify, is and has been since 2006, my alterego Lauren Harteveld.

You don’t choose an alterego because you want a phony front;
You choose it because you create a space with your art, where the real you can live. And this real you, as in authentic, wants their own real name, and you give it to them.
It is the alterego that is the real person because what we put into our art is our soul work.

My body, my house, my boots on the ground, come with so many restrictions and also, as a solitary woman, it comes with liabilities and safety issues.
Choosing an alterego for my diary writing has been one of the best decisions I have ever made in my life.

But this is of course why I forget who I am, from time to time. And forget what really matters.
The other side of me, is the one that gets validated on a daily basis.
It is easy to forget about Lauren.

The first time I thought about writing you this letter, which was about two weeks ago already, I had this curated list of areas of expertise which I had decided on as my core business.

There were still some hard nuts to crack, because the sheer number of the areas I had decided on, indicated that the rest would just have to go.
That keeping them on, may cost me my business.
But then again, if I cut the heart out of my business, meaning the part that was authentically me, I wouldn’t be speaking my true message anymore, and  effectively kill its soul. Or at least mine.

But nevertheless, I felt accomplished that I was at least thinking about the matter, and making progress in distinguishing the different elements and how they related.

Until, about a day ago and before I read your email giving an option to reschedule, I realized that none of them mattered.
Not really.

That even the most real-me part, under my own name, has to work with such severely limiting conditions compared to the freedom of the alterego-
That ultimately none of it matters.
Not really.

That the work under my real name and in the real world, should be 100% about connection and other people, completely driven by, and in service of , the world.

That my success “there” comes down to my ability to be able to monetize and finetune my small capacity for extroversion.
Because I don’t like the introvert business models.
I absolutely don’t want to produce online courses, or a commercial YouTube channel or something.
The only thing that would be an option is to be a published author, or self-published author.
Books are probably the only “online” introvert-friendly business model I would consider.

And my work under my real name serves me as well (not just others).
Because I may be an introvert, but I too need connection and belonging.
Working under my real name, provides this.

But what hit me one day ago, was although I was happy with the list of core areas for me to focus on under my real name;
Ultimately none of them mattered.
Not for the artist in me.
Not for the lover in me.
They “only” matter to my human side. Which is important, but it’s not who I really am.

Real me, is here.
Real me, is Lauren.
Real me, is the diarist Lauren Harteveld who connects to little more than her diary and to her lovers.
None of which have been existent, in 2024.

So ultimately, although the list with areas I will focus on under my real name is still under construction, the big Aha moment is that all of those areas should be in service of how functional they are socially, and business wise.
And that authenticity (under my real name) is important but that I concluded over 15 years ago, that I did not want my most authentic Self to be known under my normal name.

That I chose my diarist work, my Anais Nin of the 21st century work, the work that will hold up and only grow more relevant exactly like her work did;
I chose to do that as Lauren.

I already chose where my soul would live, in 2007.

Here.

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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

Dear Sara,

The month flew by, just like the year has flown by.
But what a grateful ride it was.

And just days before my birthday I got another piece of the puzzle, the puzzle of what always goes wrong, what will always fit, and the puzzle of where I intend to go with this whole thing called Life.
For lack of a less dramatic word.

But first about the ride itself;
Both the time between our calls, as well as the past year that has flown by.
Since they will both be marked, by our upcoming call on my birthday.

So first the past month.
I expected the fact that we had a four week interval between our calls, which has been three weeks throughout the year, with the exception of a few special occasions when it was less, to cause trouble or a pause of some sort.

That I would have all these stories to tell, and may even have been looking for advice on a certain area of my life.
Some deep questions I could not possibly bother someone else with but that could only be answered in this intoxication combination of first writing you a letter, and then to have a call where we occasionally dive deeper into it, but usually go with the flow and end up digging into a completely different area.
Meaning our call has solved or contributed in two areas, instead of one!

But no, didn’t miss it!
The month flew by, and although our work together means more to me than ever, and I hope to be allowed to stay on as your client until the day you retire, I do think it is great that apparently I am still an independent soul and that we did not accidentally create a codependent relationship.

Although without a doubt, this extra week has been the hardest, when an interpersonal problem presented itself, that made me think long and hard, about how I wanted to go about this.

Because the problem looked like something I knew very well how to handle, but there was something that halted my hand from taking action.

And although it was easy to blame it on procrastination, because interpersonal things are my achilles heel and it makes sense to suspect I’d do anything to put them off for a little while longer, this time it really was not done yet.
The thinking, was not done yet.

So I write you now, with this difficult conversation still to be held.
But I do cherish having given it a few extra days, and those were the days that was the extra week between our calls.
So the time was well spent.

Either way, what I have found out in this purgatory between knowing I need to change something and taking action next week, is that my social style (isn’t this one of those personality type quiz things?!) is to be a Peacekeeper, when I always thought or assumed I had somewhat of a rebellious streak.
Because I was a mistress.
Because I am sexually free and advocate it too.
And because I am on a personal vendetta against all things organized and systematized, for they are the embodiment of evil to me.

But no.
Although Peacebringer, would have been an even better word than the ableist sounding Peacekeeper (who helps things staying as they are, including all things unequal and toxic) I cannot count myself among the ones who will tear down the systems and start the revolution.

But I will bring peace where there isn’t any.

In those extra days between our calls, and with the difficult conversation hanging over me, I was able to pinpoint exactly where the conflict of interest lay in all those relationships I lost over the years.
And will keep losing, and I am okay with that now.
You could even say that my friendship style makes me completely unfit for the “most used” model of friendship.

That I am unable to give something that is perceived as safety or even as love, by most people.
And that it’s a good thing I know myself even better in this area, than the string of ended friendships had already taught me.

It also indicates that my most common friendships will be with men, and that friendships with women will either be spectacularly good or non existent.
And although these roles will of course not be a 100% gender specific, there is a reason why they will be working out in this fashion.

The most important part to it, is my own Peacekeeper identity.
I now understand this desire or talent I have within me, a talent which ideally is expressed but that as a hard limit requirement needs to be respected and to not be undermined.

This is the quality I call Peacekeeping, or the bringing of peace.
It is this quality that I need to step into unconditionally, instead of letting it be tossed around and messed with, depending on what someone else needs from the conversation or the relationship.

That I need my relationships to be super clean to the point of what others would call boring, without any expectations, arguments or power struggle within our relationship, and also without strive and struggle being projected on outside situations or external sources.
And I don’t just need that because it stresses me out, but also because chaos blocks what I can, and want to, bring to the table;
A sense of peace, where there was none.

How can I bring peace, if someone is attached to conflict in any shape or form?
I can’t, it’s that simple.

But also:
How can I bring real peace, if someone is attached to conflicts being solved with superficial and less demanding methods?
Also impossible.
Because that’s not real peace of course.

The way I see it now, my deepest friendships, will be with other Peacekeepers!

Men or women, who similarly to me, have a desire to use their potential to create peace and to solve conflict, in those situations that are susceptibele to it.
And who aspire to identify and navigate the situations that are beyond our control.

Whose strategy is to create harmony and beauty, and to leave people feeling better and more empowered.
If it wasn’t such a demanding way to live, both for ourselves as well as for those around us, you could easily mistake it for the strategy of unconditional love 😉

Because Peacekeepers do create bonds, communities, companies, etcetera, where we can love unconditionally, and we will do it with the intention to inspire all who come on our path to do the same.

While we also understand that we are in no position to judge others for choosing their values and for becoming the fully expressed version of whatever it is they embody.

So many conversations will follow, Sara.
Now that I know this, I am better at expressing what my highest work is in friendships (to bring peace in situations that you have not analyzed yet in full) but also what a demanding little bitch I am 😉

Because I am really only of use to people who aspire the same things.
Just having fun together and staying on the surface of our ideological differences, is in all probability a waste of your time trying to find that kind of thing with me;
But I know for a fact, that it is a waste of time for me.

That I, a Peacekeeper, need to be invited to the table when things need to be cut to the bone.
And not for a pint of beer, an all night bender, or even a conversation, if they serve as a way to forget about our problems.

That the problem, yours or my own, is what brings me to the table.
It is what I look forward to solving.
It is, if you believe in those things, why I am here on earth.

To solve things. Like riddles.
So there can be peace.

And that I feel insulted and get angry, but mostly I feel terribly out of place, if the problem is talked about but then solving it is withheld from me.
And I am cut off by, or forced to go along with, what might be very healthy coping strategies for others.
Just not for me.

The reason I have traditionally been way better with men than with women, is because men do not discuss their problems with me.
Creating a friendship that appears to be superficial, I know that.

But what my male friends have been doing, probably instinctively, is that they have committed to creating beautiful experiences.
For themselves, as well as those around them.
But we have to let them.

I, let them.

And there is nothing superficial about it.

So I think what I have nailed down, these last few days of the extra week that we scheduled between our calls, is that my highest work is that of Peacekeeping.
To create a neutral space without drama or pressing problems. A blank canvas.

And that my most striking friendships will be with other peacekeepers;
Those who desire to create peace and harmony, just like I do.
And that you will recognize our friendships by these deep powerful conversations, exactly like I have with you, Sara.
Even though our connection has the boundaries of a business relationship, the rhythm of having the conversation taking place at the allotted time slots and in the agreed upon ways of one letter and one call;
Oh, that is a recipe, for sure!

Deep relationships, whether the one between Peacekeepers or the one between Performers, which I will discuss next;
They need entirely different ways of communicating than what is currently normal at least here in The Netherlands!

People Whatsapp each other all the time, but that type of connection is detrimental to both deep Peacekeeping relationships as well as in most cases, to relationships based on Performing, which is the second relationship type I have identified myself of being capable of.

So the experience of having you as my coach, has taught me over the years, that my preferred communication style is literally nothing more than setting a date, and then showing up in the agreed upon fashion.
That’s it, anything else is baggage.

It’s also in line with how my lover and me used to make dates, all those years. 

Him: “Hi, can I buy you a drink? I’m in town Thursday.”

Me: “Great! Thanks for asking. Eight o clock, at the bar?”

Him: “Perfect. See you then.”

But before I move on to the Performer bit, I want to state that my Peacekeeper friends need to understand that others are entitled to exert their own values and play their own role.
And that it is never up to us to push our ideals of harmony onto others!

So now the Performer part?
What do I mean when I say that although the most obvious and deepest friendships will be with other Peacekeepers;
I will have many friendships with Performers?

And even that I will have relationships, where I play the role of Performer?

And why my easiest relationships will be with men?

It is because men like to entertain.
They love to use the peace and the blank canvas that I bring, to paint something beautiful onto it!
To create a date, an experience for the two of us.

So the reason my friendships with men have been so successful is because they do not mess with the peace I bring, AND they add something onto it!

Just like my lover respected the space and the peace I brought, to then direct and take responsibility for our time together.
He never let his personal problems spill over into our time together, and I loved being with him way too much to discuss anything with him.
It would be close to heresy!

So when I say the female/male divide is not absolute, I mean of course that there are women too, who love to create great experiences.
And they make great friends, and my Peacekeeping skills and their Performer skills complement.
I enjoy the work they put in and I can help them create peace in areas of their life where they cannot bring their highest work yet.

And there are men who are Peacekeepers, with whom I have great relationships too.

And then to bring it all to a close, there is definitely my own Performer side self. But I feel I have been overusing this.
I feel that, because it is more easily monetizable, and because it speaks to a broader audience, I have been overextending that part of myself.
And I need to realign ALL my work, to being about the deep work of creating peace.
Because that is my actual highest work.

That although I love creating experiences and having a more active role in contributing, it is not my biggest feature.
Performing, entertaining and being engaging, is not what I can do with my eyes closed and on 2 hours of sleep, and because of that being the Performer, is not sustainable to me.

Moving forward I should resist, being in relationships with people who are drawn to me as an Performer.
And focus on friends who appreciate me for my analytic Peacekeeping skills,
AND the ones who appreciate the blank canvas I bring, so they can shine in their ability to create beautiful shared experiences.

I should lead with being a Peacekeeper, not with being a Performer.

Like I said the month flew by, and as it was the 12th and final month of this year of my life, what a great ride it was.
Not just because I found that important cue to who I am, and how to live my life, but also because I really healed and got over the breakup with my lover.
Helped, by engaging with a new man.

He is no longer in my life, it was short lived.
And ironically, after the above analysis of me being a bringer of peace, it was because he feared I would blow up his life.
But I respect his withdrawal and I much rather have people removing themselves from my life, than to stay with expectations, fears or handing me responsibilities I am unwilling to take on.

But it was him, who healed the final part of hurt and confusion about December’s breakup with my lover.
Because my goal, my ultimate thing I wanted for myself sexually, was established without even trying;
Sexual autonomy.
Having a sexual identity without relying on external validation.

It was a lofty goal, and I thought it would take years, before I got there.
Turns out, it was actually quite feasible.
Maybe it was one of those things that once you know what your goal is, it is pretty much done. That it is more about the wording of the aim, the understanding of what it is you are pushing for. 
And less about that thing actually being hard, in any way.

So for the first time since puberty really, I feel sexually autonomous and free. I have no innate longing for lovers other than that I would see them as super nice additions to my already great life!
Cherries on top, icing on the cake, and valuable in every way, but their absence or presence will never define my sexuality.

I feel I have acquired a level of full sexual identity, sexual realization even, that cannot be taken away from me.
Exactly like I set out to achieve, to get out of this time alone.

Which does not mean I do not have sexual goals.
Because I do!

My next goal, or let’s say thing I am open to, in the upcoming year, and thereby leaving this year with the breakup behind me for good, is that I want to have three lovers.

I want having three men in my life, whom I date, to be my new normal.
And I have given this a lot of thought. Three is the right number.

First off, one is of course too few.
I had one lover, I have been with only one man, for years on end. And even though I was his mistress, and he had other women, I did not.
I dropped back to my natural monogamous state, which was feasible and satisfying to me, because he brought all the adventure I required.
Technically, my natural state is being in a Monopoly, so I am the monogamous person and he is polyamorous.
But that’s very complicated, and I don’t feel I am there yet. Maybe I never will. Anyway a Monopoly is more high maintenance and has the trap of becoming unequal because I am dependent on him but he not on me.
Just like I was dependent on my lover for sex, the past nine years, and he was not dependent on me.
Let’s not go there again.

So not counting the Monopoly, the thought-over, totally feasible relationship style I have come up with, is me having three lovers.

So not just one, not even a polyamorous man, because that puts me in a dependent position.
But also not two, because that sparks rivalry because they will think they only have to get rid of one man, to have me all to themselves.
And also because if one breaks up with me, I am down to one again.
But I want three lovers, because then it is clear to them, that I have multiple lovers and it avoids competition.
It makes sure that if one breaks up, I still have two left, and don’t become dependent.
And it is just the perfect number, to have three lovers.

If they want me for themselves, the next step is a Monopoly where they would have to swear to stay polyamorous and not become lazy, and they would have to take great care of me, and also the occasional lover or sexual experience would still be granted to me, to grow as a human being and to make sure that my monogamous ways stay fresh and by choice!

So it’s never a totally stale “I am faithful to you” situation, but the Monopoly would be something that a lover who really wants to go all in with me, could opt for.
As a natural monogamist, meaning it is extremely easy for me to have only one partner and requires a lot of work for me to have more than one, I think these two plans are both within my reach, as well as that they facilitate growth.
They will prevent the relationship with my lover to be recreated in that way, not with him, not with another man.

Days before my birthday now, and I really feel like this letter to you has summed up really important things that I found out.
About what happened last year, but also the years prior to that.

Why I lost all those people, and how to move forward.
That would have been a better title for this email.

Even though the breakup made this year challenging, it was far less challenging than many, many years prior to this one.
In the areas of body, health, business, and the future vision I hold for myself, so much changed for the better.
It has been the most amazing year, really.

And I look forward to many more.

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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

Dear Sara,

It was a moment of recognition when I glossed over the blogpost I wrote you two weeks ago, in preparation of our previous call.
And perhaps it was meant to be that the interval between the calls is shorter this time, two instead of three weeks, because this week’s blogpost is, as I realize now, a direct sequel to the previous.

Where the previous post, “Something I really want”, was a bone deep analysis of why I could rationalize why the medical world was not the manifestation of evil, but every time I blinked or God forbid went in;
I ended up hating it with a vengeance.

And although I stabbed my pen straight into the black malignant heart of the system itself, not its participants, that did nothing to control the visceral levels of hate that I had tapped into without knowing how to turn it off.
The longer I thought about it, or felt into it, the more I was convinced the medical system had been spawned straight from the gates of hell.
All thoughts which were, in psychological terms, not very helpful.
To put it mildly.

The pathway out was not found, but I did make a beginning stating that the medical world was standing between me and something I really want (the title of the post).
That the only explanation I have, for hating it which such vigor, is that they are a direct threat to what I find important in life.

And this week, when I open a new post “The Sorting Hat” I realize this is nothing short but a list of characteristics that are important to me.
All directly opposing to what the medical world offers.

Had I had this list, I could have explained point-by-point why the medical world itself was in direct conflict to what I valued.
Something which I am not going to do in this post, I am dropping the subject of medical world and will round it off to “consider death over entering a hospital”, but it is good to see that disturbing post I wrote two weeks ago finding some closure after all.

It’s not a happy ending, but it is a respectful stand-off, where I can see that some people, organizations and aspects of life, cannot be befriended of let into your life, without losing your soul.
The devil always makes you a good deal, offering the thing you want most, we know that. Does not make cutting a deal with it, a good idea.
Does not mean the hospital is evil incarnate to everyone;
Just means it is to me.

So now that I have identified where the gates to hell lie according to my own and very personal values, let’s progress to The Sorting Hat!
What is it, and how does it work?

The Sorting Hat is what I made after taking your workshop yesterday, so technically you are the only person I do not have to explain this to.
But for the sake of readability, I will.

The Sorting Hat, as taught by you, is a list of characteristics you can measure your different projects or areas of interest with.
Using the Sorting Hat, you assess if you want to take them on board, and how;
And you can identify if they are (still) pleasing to you, or if you have gotten stuck in them.

For example, let’s say “Fun” is on your list of sorting criteria.
Then before saying Yes to something, you should think:
“Is it fun?”
And if not, yet you still feel you want to continue:
“How could I make it fun?”

And for projects or areas of life that have fallen by the wayside, or that have lost their spark, you could ask:
“Is it still fun?”
And if not, but you still want to keep it on board:
“How can I make it fun?”

I came up with a list of six sorting criteria.
One very generic (6), one very specific to manage writing and posting for social media (3), and four directly applicable and identifiable. 

the Sorting Hat

criteria for projects and life

1. Does it feel sexual?
2. Is it a physical, offline experience, that could have taken place in the 20th century?
3. Can the post be created within 90 minutes including making a Canva?
4. Am I answering a need or want, from someone I care about or from a group or audience with whom I feel connected?
5. Does it make me money which people have given freely and happily?
6. Will this be a wholesome and satisfactory experience?

More often than not, projects can only be ticked off in one box. For example, to start making money from sexual experiences would be, uhm, well a whole different ballgame for sure!
So it is not the case that the more boxes are ticked, the better.

It is a priority list, if “one” (feels sexual to me) is hit, all bets are off the table, and in retrospect, I think I could even say that my endgame is to have my whole life be about 1, 2 and 3.

That although I love the connection with others, fulfilling their need, having them pay me (have clients), that the only way this is all going to work, eventually, is if I don’t have to leave the box of 1. it feeling sexual to me and/or 2. it being a physical offline experience that could have taken place in the 20th century or the box of 3. writing and posting something in under 90 minutes flat.

That numbers 4 to 6 are little more than pacifiers, to identify if something should even be taken on board.

But that ultimately all projects and areas of my life will be put on the line  by the ruthless Sorting Hat who will assess if they have the potential to;
Grow into 1. something that feels sexual;
Be reorganized into 2. a physical offline experience;
Or
If it can be done writing posts, created in under 90 minutes flat.

And the mighty Sorting Hat will have only one verdict for the ones;
Sucking my soul and vagina dry and failing to score on feeling sexual;
Or the high-demanding ones causing digital file forming and black holes of endless communication;
And will show no mercy for the ones demanding infinite studying of boring as fuck areas and writing long-ass reads.

It will know exactly, what to do them;
To throw them back into the same pits of hell, where they bloody hell came from.

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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

Dear Sara,

This letter is a bit redundant, since I need to have figured this out by tomorrow night, when I have an appointment with my psychologist.
By the time you and me have our call, it will already be done, and all the insights from our call and in particular your contributions to which I am already looking forward to hearing because you’re always so good at seeing things I miss;
Those things will need to be squeezed in, or added on, to a train already set in motion.

My psychologist and me are tackling a list of problem areas for which I need strategies, in order to navigate them the rest of my life.
One of them is my inability to deal with hospitals and medical staff.

There is something required of patients which I do not have, that in all probability goes way beyond being able to handle all the inaccuracies, flaws and contradictions in different departments and their opposing messages, and comes down to other patients having some kind of ability to emphatically connect with the professionals themselves, instead of only seeing a sea of red flags in an organization whose logistics would barely pass to move garbage bags around, let alone patients.

An even deeper thought on this, is that other patients may even find comfort that personnel in the hospital is trying so hard, and so emotionally involved with all the people going through;
That what I see as dysfunctional, disturbed and alarming, is experienced by other patients as a bonding experience between the hardworking staff and the worried patients.

Instead of as a sign you’re being thrown in front of a bus.

One of the many racing thoughts I had on the subject was how unbelievable I think it is that everybody, and in particular people with a background in medicine or psychology, find it remarkable that I used to “settle” for a man who was only a lover, who never chose me, and they deem it as something I apparently had some sort of special skill set for, in order to handle such an unsafe relationship.
That I had a secret way to handle holding myself up, in such a challenging environment of a non-monogamous affair.
Where your lover is doing the non-monogamous part, and you are just left to grit your teeth.

Which by the way is something I never did (grit my teeth).
I was delighted that he was so energetic and adventurous and I would submit myself in a heartbeat, to lifelong weekly hospital treatments including snappy receptionists, double booked appointments, broken agreements, ineffective exams and being informed on having life-threatening diseases, if it would bring him back. 

But it shows that during the 9 years of our affair I have been on the receiving side of sympathy, whereas going through this medical mill – and I’m technically speaking not even going through exactly because I took myself out of the loop and I am now in the purgatory of an unanswered thread of messages that was supposed to direct me to another department but that will no doubt be forgotten, unless I bring it back from the dead-I receive nothing.
Everybody seems to be under the impression going to a hospital is an entirely neutral experience, and that it can only be a disease, or an invasive treatment, that are worth mentioning en sympathizing with.

So having an affair is supposed to be challenging, but being in a David and Goliath type of conversation with an organization that seems unable to get even one appointment booked in without gaslighting you, is I don’t know… normal?

That is some fucked up shit, Sara.
And the only reassurance that gives me is that, apparently, I do possess an impressive set of acquired skills and special talents, because almost everybody has admitted to me that they could never have been so patient and so loving in such an insecure relationship style, and be able to deal with such a difficult man for so long. 

It’s just that my talents seem to be absolutely useless, in a hospital.

And what is needed there, in all likeliness, is the same thing that is required to start and maintain lifelong monogamous relationships.
Which by the way, are also skills I have proven to possess, for 17 years total.
I just very consciously chose not to engage in those anymore, because that is not how I want to live my life.

But just saying, Sara; I AM versatile!
How is it possible that I can both rock a longterm relationship, as well as a complex affair for almost a decade, yet I completely bottom out in the most simple phase of medical treatment?
We’re not even in the treatment.
I have not even made it to the exam, I didn’t even get that far.

It feels like everything in the hospital represents neglect, aforementioned gaslighting, and sadism in forms even Marquis de Sade had not thought of.
I think he would be particularly pleased with the added gaslighting effect, and acknowledge his sadists being so forward in their torture and their killing had left so much on the table in terms of psychological pain, where the victims would be told they were not actually tortured and that there was no pain, and that they were exaggerating.
And right before the victims were murdered, and some acknowledgement of pain had to come, he would have the sadists say that sometimes things just need to be done, and that it had been a joint decision. Where the decision of course would have been something like, do you want me to cut of your ear or your left labia; you know- something that really fucks you over.

Okay, enough with the illustrative de Sade spree, and back to the subject at hand;
How is it possible that throughout my life, I coach myself through having this festering evil of the medical world as the authority on our physical existence, and replace it with the generally held assumption that these are well-intentioned professionals who are deeply invested in our physical well-being;
Only to be proven wrong time and time again?

Or, well no, I’m making it too easy now, it’s not that inside the four walls of an examination room there is malice;
It’s everything in between.

The toxins are in the very fabric of the system, the communication, the organization. They’re in the in-between-ness. The evil is not present where one doctor or one nurse is responsible.
In fact, I totally agree that if you are dealing with ONE doctor or nurse, or a guard or a worker walking the hallway at that point, but not behind their computer;
Then you do meet that good side.
Then you do relate as humans, and it’s a beautiful experience.

But as soon as you blink your eyes, it’s gone and they’ve thrown you inside the system again, where no one is responsible.
You’re back in the dungeon of Sodom.

So tomorrow night, I need to have a setup ready for my psychologist, that includes how I want to tackle my complicated relationship to the medical world.
And as I’ve already briefly mentioned, as a psychologist she is one of those people who acknowledges my strength in certain areas, yet she seems to almost gloss over this problem.
She acknowledges its toxicity, or lets not put words in her mouth but she acknowledges that it is toxic for me, yet sports the attitude that since I need them, I need to find a way of dealing with them, implying that it is in some way doable. 
Or maybe I implied that as well, by placing this item on something as down to earth as a list of actionable items.

I made the list on one of those fake-it, pretend-this-is-easy, optimistic, coaching-myself-through-this, moments.
When I now know, this is something that if it is to be solved, needs to be centered as My Main Quest.
And that I should not have put it on a list, in such a downplayed way. That was out of integrity, and did not do justice to the suffering it has caused.
And even Andy Warhol knew he’d die if he was ever admitted to a hospital, or maybe “again” admitted to a hospital, after his shooting.
Either way, he was right.
Most likely he died of neglect, in a hospital bed.
Just to say, being afraid of the hospital is not something that has a history of being turned around that easily. Whereas the stories of people avoiding the hospital only to then die in them, in a sloppy and tarnished way, on wrong medication and preventable mistakes – let’s just sum it up as “in an unsatisfactory way” although death itself is indeed rarely satisfactory-
those examples are numerous.

So what I had just casually thrown on the list as one of the points I need to “figure out”, was actually a mammoth task, that usually does not get done.
Being afraid of the hospital is an indication of your lifespan, and the point  where your life will end.
It is not a movable target that you can push forward.

So without any positive examples, and facing a problem that is way too layered to tackle in one sitting, the most obvious solution then becomes;
“What do I need to do, now that I KNOW I can never go to a hospital without risking my life, just like Andy Warhol did?”

And indeed, that still may be the most effective solution to tackle it. It surely has a higher chance of success at becoming a useful guideline for my life, than learning how to accept or how to manage getting medical assistance.

But I saw something else as well.
Something far more interesting and compelling!
Something juicy, lurking in the shadows of this mundane, uninteresting problem of getting tantrums every time I even think of having to get medical help.

And this interesting thing can be divided into two;
1.This clash can only be caused by the hospital blocking something I really, deeply care about, or something I aspire to. The hospital is blocking something I WANT!
What is it? 
Explain with the aids phobia thing of the 80s.
And
2.This clash is about POWER!
It is about authority, and it is about who rules my body. It is about boundaries, and about being sloppy with them, and it is about not having stepped fully into my own physical power and authority, and therefor being angry when someone violates its boundaries, when the truth is, I am not protecting my body, as if my life is depending on it.
Which it is.
Explain with the medical world/ yoga world and even performance art, analogy.

Point 2 first!
Why is this a sign of a deeper lying boundary problem?
And what does performance art and the yoga world have to do with it?

This came to me in a yoga class, when I realized that the similarity between the profession of yoga teacher and the medical world, is that we are one of the very few who deal with the body.
We don’t just need a functioning body, in fact in theory we don’t;
But, the body is our area of expertise.
We know more about the body than others, we experiment with it. We are in an ongoing conversation and learning process with it. It never ceases to fascinate us, and we love to, very coarse way of saying;
We love to get our fingers in it!

Well, I never touch my yoga students, but you get the idea.

Maybe you could say a medical professional has a more literal relationship to the body, whereas a yoga teacher has a more spiritual relationship to it.
We only recognize one ailment; lack of awareness.
And we only have one medicine; awareness.

And a performer, any performer but in particular performance artist Marina Abramovic, also has this intimate relationship to their body.
Their body, their presence, IS their work.

So what I recognize now, is that I have not decided yet where the medical world fits in here. And if it does, which aspects of it.
Although judging from the rest of this post, it is coming to me now;
I can only deal with professionals who are not part of a system.
Who have their own secretary or receptionist, but who are not part of a system where no one is responsible anymore.

Okay, that was relatively easy 😉
Except of course in the Netherlands, that does limit my medical possibilities tremendously.
Where I live for example, we only have eye doctors in the hospitals.
So if I would exert this rule, I would not have eye care.

But I do think this underlying power struggle, and how it is caused by the way care is organized in The Netherlands, and not by the individuals, does take the sharpest edges off of it.

And that medical care is by definition different if your job too, is to know the body. Either because you are in health care yourself, or because you are a yoga teacher, or you are Marina Abramovic.
Your body is a lot more personal to you.

Now the first one:
What is The Want, the medical industry is blocking?
“Explain with the aids phobia thing of the 80s,” it says.

So in the 80s, I got an anxiety disorder from the aids education. I found there was no way to navigate my sex life, staying within the safe sex threshold. It took me absolute decades to unpack what went down there, and it is still a work in progress to be honest.
But it comes down to the fact that the unnuanced labeling of sex as either safe (you’re a good and responsible person) or unsafe (the label implying you’re taking a serious health risk, that could have easily been prevented) was masking an unwillingness or an inability to have a conversation about the innate risks, tied to ones natural sexual orientation.
For example if you are a homosexual person or someone who wants to have multiple partners, then your baseline risk is a lot higher.
The conversation should therefor always be worded as the safest sex for you, or the safer options for you, within the natural expression of who you are.

The word “safe sex” implies that we all have an option to be 100% safe, when the only real option to be safe, for anyone, is to not have sex at all.
In other words: the words safe and sex, simply do not belong together.
The act of sex itself, already implies a risk.
I know I’ve used the term gaslighting at least twice already, but I am using it again, because the word safe sex is the very definition of gaslighting:
It was suggested we could have sex and be safe at the same time.
An impossibility, and that’s just covering the physical risk of disease, and not even the risk of being harmed in other ways.

We were gaslighted, which in itself would have been enough to develop an anxiety disorder, but I discovered that in my case there was even more:
The safe sex campaign blocked something I really wanted.
My access to a free sex life.

I gave up, and I gave in!
No hero’s journey there.
I didn’t free myself from monogamous relationships until I was in my 30s.
The safe sex campaign effectively blocked my access to my own natural sexuality, and I had monogamous sex WITH a condom, because that was all the stress I could take.

And I can tell you that if you are wired for more free spirited sex, and you have known that since childhood, then sex in a monogamous relationship, after its first six months or so, becomes stale.
I may have many skills, but keeping sex fresh within monogamy, certainly isn’t one of them.

Of course it isn’t.
My skill set is designed to support my sexual nature of having sex with new men, and to have those men be exciting and adventurous!
For that, I have an infinite amount of dedication and enough talents to cover for the both of us.
You just bring us the meat of excitement, and the bones of pleasure, and I’ll get the table in order, consider it done.

So when the safe sex campaigns hit, I had more at stake.
Where monogamy, obviously, is where the majority of us seem to be ending up and choosing for again and again- even when people are well beyond their child bearing years they continu to come back to it – it was never my flavor.
I knew I was born not so much “for more”, but definitely born for something different.

And when I found the road blocked by the Safe Sex Brigade, I realized I was never going to reach my destination. That I didn’t have the strength to fight the enemy of government, and health care, and my parents, and everybody taking sides with this whole idea of safe sex (which was at the time: everybody!), all standing together.
I was just a 16 year old girl, facing an enemy she could not compete with because it was all around her. Evil, was in everybody, around her.

And I let the fear for the people around me consume me.
I have called it an aids phobia, but when I chose my own path, in my 30s I recognized it as social phobia.
I had not been afraid of the disease, I had been afraid of people.
And still am.

I did get a little bit further in, when I was in my 30s, and reclaimed my sexuality. I got the sex life that I had aspired to. But I didn’t do it by conquering those people from the 80s, nor did they change that dramatically.
Maybe they were a little less stubborn in their belief there was such a thing as safe sex, and maybe my age which was closer to 36 than to 16 at the time, had given me a little more wiggle room, than when I was in my teens and my parents worried sick about me.
But in the end, despite aids being treatable since the 90s, not that much had changed.

But I navigated.
Even then, I did not throw over, and I did not conquer. I wasn’t a sexually revolutionary in any way. I didn’t rock the boat even when after 20 years I did rise above the safe sex warnings and chose to honor who I was, sexually.
Maybe it was a hero’s journey, although it was a modest one.

So although I have not connected all the dots, I think my current clash with the medical world, can only be explained as originating in this conflict that started when I was 13, 14 years old, ready to start my sex life, and then aids arose and I saw the sexual ocean I had been looking forward to jump into, being blocked before my very eyes.
They claimed it was poisonous.

And what I have been doing as an adult was only swimming in the guarded area, and between the lines.

I don’t know why I associate being in the medical world both as a violation of my sexual identity, as well as a direct threat to restoring my sexuality after the breakup, and to making the transition into having a healthy sex life in midlife and beyond.
Don’t know why I feel as if letting “those people” back into my life, is not just a slippery slope to being cock blocked, or in my case pussy blocked, all over again, exactly as they did to me, in the 80s, but means risking my life.

That “safe hospital” does not exist anymore than “safe sex” does.
And that No Hospital is in my case the best choice, just like No Sex was that to some gay men in the 80s, who found they were at too high a risk of dying because of it.

Because the truest thing I have to say about this continuously growing crap pile of bad experiences in the medical world, is that I feel I will die if I let them in.

They will murder my sexuality and then they will kill me.
Just like they did with Andy.

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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

Dear Sara,

I could have literally copy pasted my previous letter to you (“How I lost Lauren“), because it feels like in the field of reviving my alter-ego self Lauren Harteveld, surprisingly if not disturbingly little was done.

The urgency of needing to save myself, take measures with lightning speed and in a timeframe that would take the breath away of the bravest one, with potential consequences as severe as costing decades of your life if you get it wrong, and in all probability still capping your life by years if you get it right;
Took over.

And every measure, every restraint, every worldly, accountable commitment a reason for Lauren to not want to live. 
As all is way too vibrant for a shadow self, a mystery self, or even a whisper of real self, to exist.

There is currently only space for that which can be rounded off, defined, quantified, or squeezed into the tightest of forms.
There is nothing here that I would call A Life. Let alone something luscious enough for Lauren to want to return.
There is only the blinding brightness of reality.

So yeah: I could have just copied the previous post.
Nothing much has changed, as far as Lauren goes, or as far as interesting, sexy, luscious things to write about goes.
If anything it got worse, for there are now so many things which when I think about them – and these can be images, visuals, or neutral language, explaining medical risks or body parts – that are etched in my memory and when they float by I shiver and cringe! 

Yet I chose not, to repeat the previous title or the content of that post.
And focus on the tiny rays of sunshine, the flicker of light that I couldn’t even promise is really actually there, but that I choose to see.
I choose to believe in a future where Lauren can come back.

First of all, a very positive development, is that I have experienced so many heartwarming cooperation. So many people, both in my personal life, professional life, as well as people who are there to help me, who are all going the extra mile for me, and I wouldn’t yet say “committing” to helping me, because they are just as baffled and unsure how we’ll make this work as I am;
But for now, they are definitely on board and they have declined the escapes I provided for them.

Now although this is absolutely not a reason for Lauren to return, it does make the life “real me” has, and will be having, so much better.
I’m not going to think too long about what would have happened if that army of positively responding people had not been there, but it would have made things a hell of a lot harder.

And the second positive thing, is that my medication is working.
It’s not a miracle drug though, and I have already absolutely bumped into limits, and will probably need a life-long commitment to a lifestyle cross over between an athlete and senior-citizen!
But providing I manage to crack the code, and get myself in check, the medication will be able to provide a very firm foundation both under my physical as well as my mental health.

And then thirdly, I can feel my sexuality return.
Slowly!

It’s not earth shattering yet, and it is “only” solo, and only a return of physical sexual strength. So I am not developing new romantic interests, nor am close to existing romantic interests.
They hold their distance, and so do I.
With this body, that didn’t have sex for over a year and that seemed to have gone through so much, I am not sad there isn’t a candidate for a real affair.
Just a little online flirting, or sometimes just knowing someone is there;
It’s enough.

I have lost about 5 kilos since a year ago.
The largest part of it was unintentionally, but since twelve days I have a daily walking routine and it seems to consistently be shaving off a little each week.
Although it scares me I will be breaking a spell by saying it out loud!

But my body slowly losing the weight I put on in all those horrible years, feels good.
I knew dieting or forcing, was never going to be my thing. I knew I needed deeper healing, and that there was a cause for the weight gain. That fighting it would make it worse.

Seeing the scales going down, my routines settling, and my body restoring with a little pharmaceutical help, feel like the first steps of creating a life Lauren would want to return to.

Like a ship has left the harbor, the sails have been hoisted, and we are on our way.

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living