He said I shouldn’t be with him.
I told him I could wait until he got over her.
He said, “No. You shouldn’t wait.”
“This can only be for fun,” he said.
I do the opposite of whatever the dating rules are.
Are you emotionally unavailable and wounded?
Let me get in bed with you.
Are you chasing a badass fantasy woman that isn’t me?
Let me declare my love for you.
He could no longer have her. She had called it off with him days before her wedding. So, he had her morph into his very own badass fantasy woman. Like him, this fantasy woman had wounds. She took them straight to the Altar of Fun. At this Altar, you lay down your wounds and you will never feel them again. In exchange, you receive a pair of pleather leg boots with 6-inch heels. So fun. It’s a win-win.
His badass fantasy woman was a pro at fucking. She could also run a multi-million dollar company, double as a secret agent and shoot 50 rounds without flinching. He dreamed that she would put him in her calendar, 11pm recurring, Friday nights, weekly. But usually, it was a last minute text just before 11pm. The spontaneous, unplanned fuck got him off even more.
He wanted her, so I tried to morph myself to fit into this badass fantasy woman mold. I went to the Altar of Fun. I signed the contract. Fun Only. I surrendered my wounds. I got the pleather leg boots. So fun.
I slept naked next to him for many nights. I watched his eyes flutter with dreams of his badass woman. With each passing night of fun, I became more empty. More forsaken. But I had signed the contract after all, this is how he said it would be. Make no bones about it.
A long time passed before I decided to make bones about it for when I had surrendered my wounds, I also gave up my power. I returned to the Altar of Fun and demanded my wounds back. They were hurled at me and I welcomed them. Contracts signed at the Altar of Fun burn to ashes when you come in like wild fire, blazing in your truth.
I kept my pleather boots. They are in my closet. I only put them on for me.
I told him, “I love you.” That was the way I said goodbye. I knew saying it would cause him to walk away forever.
Burning my contract at the Altar of Fun granted me another gift. It allowed me to fully embody the badass woman. In my wound return, she was reborn in me. The true badass woman dances. She moves into vulnerability. She opens her wounds in her own sacred ceremony, looks in the mirror, and says, “I love you. Yes. Even that part. I love you.”
The true badass woman fucks dating rules. She says, "My heart has never known rules and will never heed them. My heart will only break rules again and again and again.”
The true badass woman is honest.
She listens to the little girl within her and holds her.
She plays tag with the kids on the playground.
She lays on the sand by the shore. She is intentionally without a towel so she can get good and sandy.
The badass woman looks directly in your eyes and shoots 50 rounds of love without flinching.
She’s powerful. And you’re scared. I know.