I'm in love with a woman.
I'm in love with a woman.
An ode to the kind of love that only women can give & understand.
I’m a writer.
That’s the first bit.
I don’t know why that feels so strange or painful to say, but it does.
I want to acknowledge it.
I want to acknowledge the feelings of stuckness.
The ache of Knowing.
The pain of Being.
The finicketyness of WORDS.
I want to let it be, and let it go.
I want to let myself be, and let myself flow.
I am, I can be, Home.
I AM HERE.
That is enough.
I BELONG.
Yesterday, I had a conversation with a dear friend of mine.
A female friend.
A soul sister.
Someone I would go to the ends of the Earth for.
Our connection is… special. Precious.
She reminds me of me, but not.
She is…
It’s hard to put her into words.
I want to leave something to the imagination.
But/and…
One day, I hope you will meet her.
You will understand just what I see in her.
And you will love her just as I do.
She teaches me so much, but in the gentlest way possible.
And what I notice as I unfurl onto this page is that this piece of writing has become something unexpected. It has become a love letter, a song, a symphony. It has become a place to be & dream. It has replenished me. It is no longer about turmoil or sensitivity. I no longer ache. I am resplendent. I am joyful. I am free.
I love this woman.
She loves me.
I stand for love.
I sing for love.
I live for love.
I die for love.
But I’m not into self-sacrifice.
What I mean by this is that I am willing to kill the parts of myself that are not love (or are unwilling to love & be loved). I am willing to dismantle my psyche.
In fact… I love that.
In fact… I get off on that.
I am a writer & a magician.
I own my mastery.
Anyway…
Back to this woman.
My soul sister. My friend.
She opens my heart like no one else.
I adore her like no one else.
She sees me like no one else.
It’s been this way from the beginning.
Her story is her own to tell and… she inspires me.
She is gutsy.
She is art & fire & magic & power in her own right.
She is my true equal.
I adore her & I want to see her shine so brightly.
I love seeing her shine so brightly.
I am so proud of her.
It brings me joy to celebrate her.
She is so beautiful, inside & out.
This woman has been there for me.
This woman has loved me.
This woman has seen me.
This woman knows my tenderness like no-one else— man or woman.
This woman makes loving me feel easy.
She sees me fully & she adores me.
She is everything to me.
Last night, she shared something that deeply touched me.
Something I hadn’t said, and something I’ve felt.
Something that I don’t speak about with most people.
Something that hangs as truthful, independent of anything else.
It’s implicit. It’s obvious. It’s delicate.
It’s LOVE.
She said, “I see how lonely it is to be a pioneer.”
And I felt seen by her.
I didn’t feel pitied.
I didn’t feel othered.
I didn’t feel put down.
She wasn’t trying to rescue me.
She wasn’t trying to change me.
She wasn’t trying to see through any veneer or “catch me out”. She simply saw what was there, and she loved me for it.
As she loves me for everything else.
And it felt… beautiful.
This woman has celebrated me like no one else.
In ways that would’ve felt out of reach with anyone else.
We have been giddy with one another.
Celebrating dizzying successes. Exulting in our pride.
Cheering each other on.
It’s felt real. It was true sisterhood.
With her, I’ve felt loved in a way I’ve never felt loved before.
This is the woman of my dreams.
She is so beautiful, inside & out.
She is what I aspire to be like in 15 years.
She inspires me like no one else.
I adore her like no one else.
She brings me to my knees.
This is how I want to feel every single fucking day.
This is what it means to me to be wildly devotional to love, to prayer, to God, and to Life itself.
I am so grateful to know her.
To be known by her.
To be loved by her.
She is a vision.
We are perfect mirrors.
Dive deeper into the Imaginarium here.