What I Learned Through Real Love and Empowerment
Can I make a habit of this?
Starting every day with a 20-minute writing session, before I do anything else—
to see what bubbles up to the surface that needs attention and love?
There have been so many feelings running wild inside me lately,
bringing as much peace as they do unease.
I set the timer for 20 minutes.
I turn off everything else.
This— this discipline—
this clears my mind and centers me faster than anything else.
If I just let my fingers move,
if I let the thoughts pass through without overthinking—
(it sounds contradictory, but it works.)
I need a timer I can see.
The hourglass I have is 60 minutes.
Maybe it’s time to get a 20-minute one.
I love watching the sand drip down
as I type,
mindlessly,
wondering what the screen will say when I’m done.
Maybe today is about channeling.
Maybe today is about seeing what the Universe has to say
about where I am
and what I’m building.
There’s so much started right now.
I created the new TikTok:
The Unapologetic Slut.
I love the name—
even if it doesn’t roll off the tongue perfectly.
Maybe Empowered Slut would be better?
Empowered feels easier to say.
Either way, this idea feels like what I’ve been searching for.
It’s who I am:
Unapologetic.
Unashamed.
Empowered.
Raw.
Deep.
Emotional.
It lets me talk about the Universe and sex—
bringing it all together.
It lets me tell my story.
But what is my story?
It’s not what it used to be.
My story used to be one filled with anger and hate,
bubbling with insecurity and lack.
I was a victim.
Today—
all of that built me into someone else.
Why do I care if my family loves me or not?
Why do I care what they think of me?
Why does any of it matter?
It doesn’t.
Not one bit.
I can’t let them define me anymore.
Telling the old parts of my story doesn’t feel the same now.
It doesn’t erase what happened.
But I refuse to let it define me:
Patrick’s suicide attempt
Losing the house
Hatred from my family
Bullying
None of it defines me.
Before AC,
I had never experienced real love.
I thought I knew what love was.
I didn’t.
The experiences were real—
the pain, the terror, the survival instinct—
but it wasn’t love.
Real love shows you
how deeply we have been manipulated
by fear disguised as love.
True love sets you free.
I used to think something was wrong with me
when I heard things like:
"If you love something, let it go."
"I just want them to be happy."
I couldn't imagine feeling that way.
I thought love was about fighting,
about convincing,
about holding someone down.
But once you experience real love—
the kind so profound it defies words—
you realize it's the opposite.
Love isn’t constant protection.
It isn’t about keeping someone from getting hurt.
Love is unlocking them.
It’s pushing them toward their greatest potential.
It’s watching them soar—
even if it feels like it will kill you.
Love isn’t about being right.
Or knowing what’s best for someone else.
It’s a deep knowing.
A grounding.
A safety that didn’t exist before.
