Love Affairs With Fear

I haven’t written properly in a while.  Part of this was due to lack of motivation and a big bout of writer’s block, but part was also due to not having much time.  The reason for the lack of time is probably not as cut and dry as you might think.  What I’m about to post is fucking raw and difficult for me to share for multiple reasons.  This is straight out of my Book of Shadows – literally.  Where there are lines is where pieces of the Book break off.  This has been my last few months.  I have honestly seriously debated about posting this, because most Witches are very leery about posting things that come from their physical written BOS, and I definitely am.  But this mass of sections from mine were a deep and brutal and incredible learning experience.  I’ve come into myself a lot more lately…  Because I have sort of jumped in bed with Chaos.  I’m having a love affair, in the Dreamtime, with one of my biggest fears.  A fear, mind you, that I didn’t quite understand was a fear until all of this began.  A fear that has led to my current Book of Shadows filling up a hell of a lot faster than I had originally intended.  I had to buy a backup one!


CHAOS APPEARS IN TRANCE STATE
From my Book of Shadows

I find myself sinking into trance state, the blue and purple mists settling around me, covering my eyes. I think, and allow my sights to adjust again to that odd light of the inner dimension. The figures of my guides, my ancestors, and the gods are comfortably seated around me. The temporary discomfort I usually feel when vision claims me without being sought is already beginning to dissipate. Clarity snaps like a lens over my sight. Shadows dance in the corners of my eyes, and I see the misty presence of deity – Morrigan – hazily lounging nearby. The dancing shadows are actually Ganesha, comically waving his trunk around, a handsome smile beaming from his glowing face. He snakes his trunk lovingly around my shoulders, and I feel all earthly pain leave my body. I find, looking upward, that I’m shaded by Morrigan’s wings. A reminder of the protection and comfort I’ve always felt in their presence. A reminder, too, that I’ve been neglecting my meditations for far too long.
I stand, their warmth accompanying me as I move forward. This movement feels so good, so natural. I have missed this.
I can see a portal door. It glitters as if framed with millions of stars. I reach for the doorknob and realize I’m grasping at air. I start, but immediately understand what I must do. I close my eyes and visualize the door swinging open to admit me into the dreamtime proper. I open my eyes to the slow and musical lilt of the door’s movement. I walk through and warm air envelopes me. The sun hits me just right, kisses me on the face, and I feel that strange sensation that I have come home. My heart is swelling with the joy of it. There is green all around me. Mountains, beautiful lakes all over the place, and little meadows surrounded by trees. I walk toward one of these secluded spots now, selecting one with a tiny creek very nearby. I settle quietly onto the plush green grass. The chortling rhythm of the water is so soothing that I nearly fall asleep almost immediately…
But sleep is not what I have come to the dreamtime for.
I force my eyes open and I tune into my inner voice, my intuition, to find out why I have been pulled here. In the waketime, it’s just after midday. Usually, I hold off on this sort of work until night, so that I can rest afterward and not miss the day. The clouds give no hint to my quest and my inner voice is strangely silent. It’s eerie. I follow the movement of the clouds. Again, I feel my eyelids heavy with the sweet lure of sleep. I can hear voices on the breeze, and immediately I am alert. I am usually alone here.
The voices are so far away as to be unfamiliar, but close enough to know their owners’ proximity. An old, wolfish instinct makes pricks down my spine. An out-of-place howl begins in the back of my throat, and I fight to suppress it, my instincts readying me to fight if necessary. I feel my fangs descending, filling a sharp space behind my canines. It’s as if a true transformation is near – lycanthropy – but I must stay calm. Personified old fears are coming upon me, and it seems they may greet me with human faces. I rise to my feet again, silently pulling up with the assistance of a sturdy tree trunk. I slip behind its oaken cover and ask it, all silent yet pleading, to please give me shelter. It obliges; leaves come in a silent, swooping motion to conceal me, and just in time, too, for here come fears with faces.
I must not see them as foes…
The thought comes, truly unbidden, and I start at its arrival. This is a test; it must be. A shove into forcing me to deal with my fears – an attempt at shutting down the anxiety that sometimes clamps down on me and wrecks my mind. I have got to learn to see these fears as partners, tools for survival instead of things that defeat me. The things I have put off dealing with for years. This is the time to put a handle on them all.
Things are beginning to get hazy; my sight is swimming and fishbowled…
I do my best to blink away the anxiety. It is difficult, even in the dreamtime, that side of the veil where it usually seems so much easier to manage reactions to the things that, in waketime, would cause me a full-blown anxiety attack. I refuse to be broken and defeated again. I will be damned if I allow myself to stay walled-in and afraid. I’m of no use to anyone, least of all myself, that way. These decisions are small but mighty. I know myself… I know how long it’s going to take me to overcome these fears, especially because I have wilfully held onto them all for far too long.
I peek around the tree with my odd hat and cape of early autumn leaves. A branch lines up my spine, keeping me steady. Cracking steps tell me the fear-monsters are close. Too close for comfort. I will actually see their faces soon. Too soon… I do not even know how many of them there are. How many must I fight? And how will I defeat them? Is my mind strong enough? How changed will I be when all of this is said and done? I realize that these questions are embodiments of my fears…
Fear of failure. Fear of stagnancy. Fear of looking ridiculous to others. Fear of any sort of forward movement. Fear of taking chances, taking risks… Fear of missing opportunities… Fear of missing out… Battling emotions, battling fears, the things that cause my anxieties… The conferred fears of people around me, empathy muddling what fears are mine and what fears are theirs…
Then, I recognize one of the voices as its owner draws near. Him. The figure I’ve seen in dreams and visions for months now… And I can identify him immediately as Chaos. This realization floors me. I know the man whose face has been personifying Chaos to me for weeks, in my own mind at least. Okay, it makes sense to my waking mind; his life is certainly chaotic enough. I know about all the women, and some of his past chaos that he doesn’t seem sure about leaving behind. I know about the changes he has made, but he’s been replacing addiction with addiction. Of COURSE he’d represent Chaos to my dreamtime self. He’s Chaos in the energy sense. I can read him like a book sometimes, but other times, he seems to know when I’m trying to read him.
There’s a small flaw in this choice of representation. If he is meant to be a warning… Then that means I have to learn to distinguish love from danger. Yes, I love this man, despite what I know about him and the fact that it’s not mutual. I saw him last night and didn’t even hug him goodbye as I usually would, mainly because I just had zero energy, but also because reality is blurring… The Chaos in my dreams and visions is presented with his face… Looking at his face in reality is much more off-putting and difficult and sometimes even disturbing. He is my friend; he has never been anything but sweet to me, and yet I’ve been very wary around him. I never used to be.
I never knew that spiritual experiences could involve people I know and that it could affect the way I see people I genuinely care about. But it’s been happening a lot more often lately. Little epiphanies about fair-weather friends and even my closer, more trusted friends…
It’s been quite a ride… At least within my innermost vision. Showing me just how damn foolish my heart is, falling for people who are all wrong for me. I would love it if, even just once, I could fall for someone who is right. Someone magick.
My heart is pounding… I feel the tree under my hands, reassuring me within my vision. Steadying myself, I tune back into the voice of Chaos… I remind myself that it’s not actually HIM, because if I don’t, I will actually begin to associate HIM in the wrong light…
He says my name. That alone is an odd feeling zipping down my spine…
But when he actually says his piece, it is in a manner that HE doesn’t use.
“Why do you seek me? Why do you chase me? I am within you, but you deny me… I am the reason you spin in your own space, reeling from sensations you do not have words to name. I am the thing within you that you pretend not to notice. I am the beast you deny, yet here I am. I chose this face for a reason, didn’t you know? I am what you love, and what you hate, and what you long for despite your fear of me. I am the root of love, and so I look like the man you are in love with. This is my nature. Hearken, little girl, for I will always be a part of you, I will always follo wyou, and I will always know you… Do not deny me any more. You will never, never be free of me.” The leaves rustle as he pulled the branches sheltering me back. He peers into my eyes and smiles, that smile I know so well. “You see? You cannot hide from me.”
“No,” I manage to respond. “I never could.”
He smiles again and retreats. “I am enough for now… Let the others pass. Wake up, little girl.”
My inner sight goes black so quickly that I barely have time to react, let alone prepare myself for the harsh outer light that assaults my corporeal eyes. I gasp and blink and curl in on myself, heart pounding… That has never happened before.
I am still processing it all. I don’t know how to respond to all of this. I feel a bit lost…


I face the shining, yet deeply murky waters of the lake that has become my favorite sacred space; the nemeton who welcomes me into her sweet, living arms, so green, so earthy, in daytime hours a perfect melding of all the elements – fire in the sun, water in the lake, earth underfoot, air all around…  And in the moonlit hours, it retains mysticism in the sweet glow upon the water.  The elemental spirits here all know my energy, and I theirs.  I honor them with deep, immense, and true love that I cannot stop myself from emanating each time I arrive on the park grounds…  Even simply nearing it is a release of gratitude and adoration of my Mother Nature…  Relief to my soul it is when I go there…
And as I face the lake waters, and see them waving at me as they lap the rocks, I see the messages there.  I see and hear all of the things the Universe wants me to see and hear.  I feel so attached to that lake.  It’s like a spiritual second home.  I’ve spent a lot of this amazing journey there.  It’s the space I best connect to Mama in…  I encounter Chaos there quite frequently.  He is far more of a friend to me than I ever thought he could be.  I even summon him sometimes, just to gaze into his face, as handsome and tricksy as he quite often can be.  That wily smile, so bright and wide, is an odd image to see as it beams up at you along with your own reflection in the lake water.  A reminder of what you can embody, wilfully or otherwise, as a Witch and often as a human being.  The first time I saw him there, I was still tangled up in fear; high emotions caused me to fly completely off the handle, but he chuckled in my ear, put a hand upon my shoulder, and whispered, “You know I won’t leave your side, darlin’.  We are two of a piece.  I belong with you, and you belong with me.  I am you, and you are me.  Never fear me, for if you fear me, you fear yourself.”  That deep, low chuckle again.  It nearly undoes me.  He still holds the visage of the man I will never be with but actually love despite the unkind things I know to be true of him.  My friend.  I see him each weekend, of my own volition, of course.  But I was determined to conquer my fears and my emotions, to keep myself from doing things that would come back to bite me in the ass later.  Thankfully, I forced myself to learn the difference between Dreamtime and Waketime…  Though many times, Dreamtime is so very much better and warmer than Waketime; and in meditation and in dreams, it seems so much easier to find the best path there, and so very much harder in the waking time.


The whisper of Chaos is like a sweet, warm cordial.  I can smell him before he even shows me his face.  I can feel him buzzing like a hornet’s nest in deep summer.  He is so delicious; in his own dangerous way, he is an inviting piece of cake.  He has been so constantly beckoning me lately, utilizing the form he was given in ways I really didn’t quite expect.  He defines both his purpose, chaos and temptation.  I feel the temptations of lust – over a year I have been without touch, intimacy…  I work so hard to keep distinction between loneliness, my true affliction, and the primal need for sex.  But Chaos pretends he is my need, and I nearly succumbed more than once.  But I am a woman of fierce strength, and I am learning to be comfortable in that strength.  I am proud of how far I’ve come, accepting my power-from-within, resisting the temptation to use power-over…  But oh!  Does Chaos ever send me more temptation than I feel I can handle…  But I have handled it all.  Every bit.


Deep Within, and at the Between, I abandon my old self – the civility, the manners, the ideals of the society that I really despise at the moment.  Khaos doesn’t need to search for me, though sometimes I deliberately make it difficult for him – because it’s a fun game.  Gods help me, I’ve fallen in lust with my deepest fear.  Or at the very least, my idea of him.  I have been more or less celibate for six months or so.  I feel incredibly pent-up and frustrated.  Nearly every thought I’ve had has been explicitly sexual.  I can’t stop myself.  I have major standards, so the idea of just picking up a random really disgusts me.  I’d honestly rather have a trusted fuck-buddy.  But I want a partner who wants to explore but doesn’t push me into the things I don’t want to do.  In the Dreamtime, that partner is Khaos.  It has been a bit internally awkward for me to see Him in the social situations, but hot damn…  In Waketime, it’s so hard to keep myself from going overboard when I “play by myself.”  What Dreamtime playtime with Khaos has brought me is intimacy.  He holds me, teaches me to relax in his arms.  Now that is the true craving for me.  To be held like I’m the most precious person in the world for my partner, to have my hair played with, my back scratched just the way I like it.  Learning how to listen to his silent needs, to his body, to his heartbeat – that’s been so very fulfilling to me (even though it’s all in my head!).  It sort of makes me feel a bit selfish; I don’t remember being as considerate to certain lovers prior to this.  In terms of sex and intimacy, I’m not very grown.  I’ve had for long-term partners and one one-night-stand.  My track record isn’t conducive to much by way of experience.  I need to learn the value of sensuality.  I think back to a particular sensual experience (too explicit/personal to share here), and I think that’s what I want to experience again…  So how do I find it?  How do I get to that level of trust again?  And more to the point….  Who can handle me?!


Khaos stroke my skin
in the dewy morning light
brightness encloses me in trust
I relax my body, feel it sink
down into the downy soil and grass…
he alights a kiss upon my wrist, soft
and my own light is awakened
I rise to meet his kiss
surrender to the sensation
he so expertly bestows upon me
I am slowly knitting back together
my broken self is almost through
the metamorphosis
and he reminds me
with a kiss of wanting
and a smile


I realize that this is a lot of…  crazy.  From my own perspective, it’s definitely crazy.  But I’ve learned a lot from this.  Firstly, we create our own reality.  My reality lately has been really…  surreal.  I live in my head more than I live out of it, which is really unbalanced, and something I wasn’t quite understanding until recently, and now I’m attempting to be more balanced and seeing all sides of everything – inner, outer, etc.  I return to Khaos in dreams, walking down a path that’s becoming more and more familiar night after night, through trees and ducking under branches, leaves caressing my skin; all of it so absolutely alien to me but still so familiar…  He says he’s mine.  I say I belong to all.  He knows.

What is my life even?

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Relax, Baby! It’s Only Khaos!

Hey, hey, hey, I see you over there, stressing over the insanity the Universe has seen fit to send you.  It just keeps coming and coming, doesn’t it?  What’s a Witch to do?  Don’t wallow, take a tip from a Witch who’s seen the game and knows it intimately:  Stop fighting it.  Lean into the insanity and let it sweep you away.  It’s coming at you for a reason, darlin’, and fighting it is going to bring you more and more heartache.  Khaos comes to give you a little boost.  By walking on the wild side, you learn your limits and also that you can push each and every one of them.  Khaos brings chaos…  But he brings so very much more.  My journey through fear (which I’m going to post soon) has been wild.  But I’m just writing this to remind you that you are not insane.  See Khaos as he means you to see him and then go with the flow.  He’s there for a reason.

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On The Claw

Got a whole lot of things in my head

whole lot of demons wishing me dead

could you shut up for a little while

you’re blending in with all things vile

got a whole lot of wrong in my mind

don’t know what you’re expecting to find

gets too real in here too fast for me

don’t know what you’re expecting this to be

you took me on without a second thought

for someone so afraid of getting caught

she’ll grind us both right into the dirt

told you when we met we’d both get hurt

I’m volatile and she’s a demoness

you got two sides of a double headed coin

you must be masochistic and nothing less

and I must be crazy thinking I could join

this dark menage a trois

my heart’s stuck on the claw

She’s got a whole lot wrong inside

so in my skirts you’d like to hide

while she passes by with dark eyes

little does she know we’re a surprise

don’t know what you’re expecting now

you’re keeping me secret somehow

you think you’ve finally found your path

by silently tempting a demon’s wrath

but you won’t get any better from me

boy you don’t know how killer I can be

double your pleasure baby double your fun

double your chances under double the gun

I’m volatile and she’s a demoness

you got two sides of a double headed coin

you must be masochistic and nothing less

and I must be crazy thinking I could join

this dark menage a trois

my heart’s stuck on the claw

Ah it’s coming down to the wire

can you feel it

the energy is getting dire

you’re coming too close to the fire

trying to steal it

but she and I both know you are a liar

Down in the dirt with you again

deep down in the dirt with you my friend

keep on digging til you hit rock bottom

keep on digging til you fall below the rotten core

I’m volatile and she’s a demoness

you got two sides of a double headed coin

you must be masochistic and nothing less

and I must be crazy thinking I could join

this dark menage a trois

my heart’s stuck on the claw

I’m volatile and she’s a demoness

so full of hellfire

you got two sides of a double headed coin

it’s down to the wire

you must be masochistic and nothing less

it’s getting dire

and I must be crazy thinking I could join

you’re such a liar

this dark menage a trois

this dark bed of ours

this dark menage a trois

my heart’s stuck on the claw

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Sharp Edges

I awake in my Inner Realms again, sweaty with the anticipation of the storm I feel brewing in the distant horizon.  In all honesty, I still fear inward tempests.  They put out such hostility sometimes.  But they come for reasons that I often won’t learn of until much, much later.  And lately, I feel I must welcome the darkness.  It is as much a part of me as the light, after all.  I have been facing my demons and walking that grey line that most people shy the hell away from.  I am no fucking wilting flower, though.  I can’t be.  I don’t have the choice.  I am not so sheltered.  I am my own woman, my own Witch; I must take care of myself and in order to do this, odd paths must be walked.  Khaos.  I adjust my eyes in the blackness of the inward night and I walk the long path again.
Oh.  Beastie in the wooded space close by.  I sense it.  Hello beastie.  I fear you not, you are mine, you belong here.  Hello.  I will not disturb you.  Perhaps later, once this storm has passed, we can become friends.  I would like that.  I shove my hand in the pocket of my cloak and find a snack for Beastie and I leave it behind with a whisper of a blessing.
Take care of your Beasties and they will take care of you.
I find the scythe-shaped boline in my pocket, heavy with black iron and handled in very dark oak and a metal I cannot name, and I handle it, feeling its weight and wondering why it is I have never used it since I spirit-conjured it so many years ago.  I remember the feeling I had whilst forging it; that knowing that I would someday need it, but for what?
Lately my mind has been on the sharp things, the uncomfortably dark things.  The things we refuse to face because we’re too afraid.  I stood up and decided to face these things and they confront me every which way I turn.  Fear’s like that little annoying voice in the back of my head, but I beat it back whenever it surfaces.  Fear’s like that daily temptation of the boy you like or the food that makes you fat; it niggles and it squiggles and it squirms and you hate that you want to reach for it.  You fear leaving that boy behind because you fear being alone all your life, forgetting that you are sufficient alone and many times you even enjoy it.  This has been my life lately.  This boy enchanted me for a few weeks and then suddenly I realized I was just a convenience to him, so I did the darkwitch thing and banished him from my life.  I am a sharp thing.  I make no apologies.
But sometimes there’s no denying the fear of the sting of the blade of life.  We shy away from the nettles even though their healing properties far outshine their prickles, and we worry about getting our hands dirty.  We don’t like getting hurt.  Getting hurt is the point of life sometimes.  We learn what hurts and what doesn’t.  We learn how much hurt we can take.  The darkness in your mind can overwhelm you.
My bipolar disorder, my anxiety, my depression, they are the curve of a blade finely honed.  But I am sharper.  I am quicker to cut.  I am a sharp thing.  I make no apologies.  If you feel my sting, rest assured you deserved it.  I am through being the meek child-girl-grown-tall and I am through being adornment.
I am a sharp thing, you are all sharp things.  Man, woman.  Nonbinary.  Transgender.  We are all sharp things, sharp and swift.  We win.  And we make no apologies.

Posted in Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, Celtic, Crystals, Depression, Divination, Greek, Herbalism, Mental Illness, Norse, Rants & Raves, Road Spells, Spells With Crystals, Stories From The Road, Tarot, Weird | Leave a comment

do you think you can face my flames

You could never silence my voice. You do not have that kind of power. There is nothing in this world you could ever do to put fear in my heart. I suppose you thought I was beaten. Down in the dirt, bleeding, licking my wounds and searching for salt with which to heal myself, I am here, and I am down, but witness my rise. You will see my fire and wish that you could still come near it, see it, watch it in the daze of the spiritually sleeping, wish you could warm yourself by its embers… But you will never get that chance ever again. So watch my fire spread across the sky. And if you try to get close again, I will fucking incinerate you.

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what i look for in a man

There has been a question people have asked me many times and I despise it, but feel overly pressured to answer it: What do you look for in a man? This question prompts me to roll my eyes and feel that sense of being fully misunderstood, yet I cannot expect the person asking it, especially if I have just met this person, to know that I am pansexual and polyamorous, not straight and narrow at all. How can this person know who I truly am? If I were to allow that person access to every self I have ever found, could they accept me? I am not a light and fluffy, calm and sweet, tailored to fit the measurements required of me by society lady. I am dark and stormy, cloudy, luminescent like the Moon. I am a fighter, a warrior queen, a battle goddess. I do not take kindly to weakness, because this world is tougher than anyone will ever willingly see. I am rough and tumble, not afraid to get dirty, and I wield more power than anyone sees day to day. I will not allow anyone to take that power from me, either. I do not take disrespect or intolerance. I am an equal-opportunity ass-kicker. If you expect me to be the girl who sits pretty in your parlor and plays the piano, you may go fuck yourself, please. I am polite but I am also blunt as hell, and you will not change me. New folks who are not used to this will balk at my rough exterior and interior, but they will not get the reaction from me they want. I do not aim to please. I do not shrink to fit. I do not kowtow to those who believe themselves higher than me on any kind of food chain. We all die. We all end up in them piney boxes. Please shut up, I am talking. You asked me a question, and I think you believed it a simple one. Perhaps in a former version of myself, in another life, I would have agreed with you. But nothing in life is simple, and I am a rare bitch, so this will be harder an answer than you expected. What do I look for in a man? Firstly, let’s rephrase that. What do I look for in a partner? I look for the compassion to love, of course, but I also look for the responsibility that comes with that love. Do you understand that I will never be your expectation? Can you love me for the insanity whirlwind that I am? Do you want the idea of me or the reality of me? Do you have the balls to deal with my mood swings, my anxiety, my randomness? I look for someone who has more balls than I do, or at least equal balls. I will never expect that person to change for me, and I expect the same courtesy back. But challenge me, challenge my mind, speak my fucking love language and never hold back. Cry in front of me if you feel like crying, and speak the fuck up if you have something to fucking say to me. If I am silent, remember I’m usually silent because I’m spiritually awake and aware and likely tuning into something I’m sensing, so don’t worry too much, because if I am angry at you, trust me love, you will know it. I’m not silent about my feelings. I fight until I see a reason to stop fighting. If I stop fighting, I’m done. I will not tolerate you forcing anything on me, and I will not tolerate a one-sided relationship. I can smell bullshit miles away, I can sense it when you’re lying, and there is absolutely not a damn thing you can hide from me, so please don’t even try. I’ve been abused, I’ve seen some shit, and I’ve learned a lot. I’m the girl you think you can play with, but darlin’, please, I invented this game and I will show you how to play by example. Don’t mess with me. So when I am asked what I look for in a man, I just smile politely and let my silence speak for me. There is genuinely no answering this question. You don’t want the long answer. You want me to say I want a man with nice eyes and a caring heart and a fat wallet. No, no, no. I want SOMEONE, man, woman, transgender, genderfluid, gender nonconforming, I don’t care, SOMEONE who can take me as I am and raise me up to becoming a better version of who I am, and who is open to me doing the same for them. Because I am unconventional in love and out of love, and if you cannot roll with the punches then you and I will not be right for each other. If you cannot handle my falling in and out of love all the time, being polyamorous, then you’re definitely not right for me. I need someone who understands. It isn’t that you aren’t enough for me, it’s that love isn’t a bird that can be caged. I am not a bird that can be caged. If you try to force me to stop flying, I will use the talons the Goddess gave me and slit your fucking throat. I am dangerous, I am danger, I know my worth and I know myself well. If you do not have the patience, the will and the wish to know me as intimately, then please move along. I won’t judge you, trust me. Hell, maybe we can be friends. I am highly aware I am not for everyone. I am also very okay with this. I don’t want to be for everyone. I have a tribe, a coven, a wolf-pack, who love me despite my manias and my craziness. Who love me despite my hasty trigger finger, my hexing, my vexing, ranting, raving, unholy bitchiness. Who love me BECAUSE of these things. I need SOMEONE who can run with my pack, conjure with my coven, dance with my tribe. I need SOMEONE who is in tune with their bodies, their minds, their souls, their hearts, their Selves, their spirituality. I need SOMEONE who can run with me, because boy how-dee baby, can I run. I also need SOMEONE who won’t put the MANIAC in NYMPHOMANIAC. I am a nympho, darlin’ and if you can’t give me what I need you’ll met the Maniac. You’ll especially meet the Maniac if you pretend that you can keep up with me and prove otherwise. I despise liars with such a fiery passion that it burns deep in my belly. You lie, you break my trust, and if you break my trust, you become the shunned in my eyes. Never fuck me over. If you fuck me over, you are well and truly fucked. I know how to make you suffer without lifting a finger. I am an enigma of strength and fire. If you think you can do this dance, then try. Go ahead. You won’t lose a thing, except maybe your dignity if you think you can try to play me. But don’t ask me what I look for in a man, dear, because unless you really care, you’ll regret it.

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Dear Unhealthy Parents…

Dear Unhealthy Parents,

Your daughter is gonna have sex. Your daughter is gonna suck a dick. She’s gonna lick a clit. She’s gonna touch herself. She’s gonna touch other people. She’s gonna have fetishes & kinks. She’s gonna be sexually attracted to people. People are gonna be sexually attracted to her. You have a human that you’re raising. She’s gonna fuck someone. That’s what humans do.
In no circumstance is it okay for you to punish her for having human feelings. When she has sex, she shouldn’t be afraid of what you would say about it. She shouldn’t have to do it in secret. She shouldn’t be afraid for you to find out. Especially if it means you’ll put your goddamn hands on her.
Don’t EVER try to destroy your daughter’s sexuality for ANY reason.
“I know what boys are after, I don’t want them to hurt her.” Guess what?? Your kid is going to get hurt by SOMEONE no matter what gender they are. That’s not an excuse anymore.
“What about STDs??” You’re her parent. Teach her about STDs. Have her ask her gynecologist. Sit with her & learn about safe sex & birth control. It’s not hard to find informational videos on YouTube too. There’s a way to prevent STDs without abstaining from sex.
“What if she gets pregnant?” Read the previous answer. If she gets pregnant anyway, help her to do what she wants to do with it. If she wants an abortion, take her to get one. If she wants to keep it, you STILL don’t get to punish her. Be disappointed, be stern, have a talk with her, but don’t ever make her feel like she’s a bad person for having had sex.
“I don’t want my daughter to be a thot/slut/whore.” It’s none of your business how many sexual partners your daughter has. It’s none of your business how many sexual partners ANYONE has. Sex should never be guilted or shamed.
“She won’t get any respect from men.” If you raised her to rely on respect from men, you raised her wrong. She should not live & breathe for the respect of men. She should live for the respect of herself, & part of that includes the freedom to have sex as much or as little as she pleases. She is not a device for men to judge & you should be ashamed of yourself if you’ve taught her that she is. Her worth should never be decided by a man.
Stop trying to make your daughter resent you. & don’t put your fucking hands on her for doing things that you don’t like. Beating children makes them afraid of you, & fear leads to resentment. What do you want them to remember when you died, the tender moments & fun times, or the times you beat the living fuck out of them for being human?? Be a parent, not a police officer.

-Unknown Author

No, I did not write this, and I would normally not be posting things like this, but it makes me think a lot.  If I were a parent, of a teenager especially, I would have issue with a lot of things.  Drugs.  Smoking.  Boozing.  But sex is not one of them.  Experimentation happens when you hit puberty.  You try crossing every line and doing everything in rebellion possible.  But as a parent, you should not be holding a chain connected to your kid.  You are raising someone who will at some point be on their own.  You will never be able to control their behavior.  Influence it, perhaps, but never fully own it.  This stigma and shame attached to sexuality should stop.  Sexuality is a major part of being human.  It is the expression of love and is full of the vitality of life.  We are no longer in the stone age, or in the fifties.  Make sure your kids are aware that they can tell you anything they feel they need to.  They can confide in you….  If they cannot then that is unhealthy.

Just a few thoughts from the witchy.

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