charlottestarchild

[charlottestarchild]

What are we?

I don’t know why I decided this was a good title for this next entry. Because I pretty much know the answer to it. We’re fuckbuddies. Friends with benefits. Or whatever other names there are for two people who casually sleep together every once in a while, knowing that they are both sleeping with other people and that they will not end up in a relationship.  How did we get here from that very first, very promising fireworks tinder date?  Well... after that first date came a few more and a three week period of regular texting and telling each other how excited we were to see each other again. 

He had, however, made it clear - I don’t remember exactly how, I don’t think he ever said directly “I don’t want a relationship” but he had said stuff like “I’m a really bad boyfriend” and “I’m not ready” and stuff like that. So it was kind of clear to me this wasn’t going anywhere and I knew he was “bad news” and that I was playing with fire. 

Just when I had kind of already decided that it was probably best for me to not keep seeing him, he made the decision for me.  We had scheduled a date and on the day I was supposed to go see him he called me in the morning to tell me that he had slept with another woman the night before and that they had not used a condom (we had started having sex without a condom at some point cause we agreed “we would keep seeing each other”). 

Although I knew we had never agreed to be exclusive and I was always sure as hell that he was sleeping with other women, hearing it so directly still was a bombshell. He asked me how I feel about it and I couldn’t really get any words out of my mouth. He asked me if I wanted some time to think about it and I said yes.  I was torn apart. I knew this was what I needed to hear, I knew that it had to happen this way for me to cut him off but somehow I didn’t feel ready. I didn’t feel ready to say “you sleeping with another woman hurt my feelings, I don’t wanna see you anymore” - at least not on the phone. If, then I would want to say it in person. So I decided I would see him one last time.  To make things even more complicated, I had recently been in contact with a person who got diagnosed with COVID and so I had promised him to take a test before we see each other. Turned out taking that test was way more complicated than it used to be a few months back when I took a test the last time and so I ended up driving around like a maniac for hours to find a place to take the god damn test. I felt like a nuthead. Here I was, wasting time, gasoline, money just to go drive and see a man who obviosuly didn’t really care about me. Why? Why was I doing this?  I knew why. Because I had to have it my way. Because I had already planned what to wear and I had already envisioned our next encounter and I needed to follow through with it. I needed it to happen. I wasn’t gonna let it be taken away from me. 

So I went to see him later that evening. It was a bit awkward at first... he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, the times before (at least I thought I remembered so) we had kissed properly to say hello.  Anyways after a while we started making out and had sex.  And then it hit me. He had had sex the night before. He probably wasn’t even very horny. He probably couldn’t even be bothered. I never once asked him if he still wanted to see me. I just assumed that somehow he would be happy that I still wanted to see him after he fucked another woman. But surely that wasn’t the case. Reality was surely more like, him being tired cause he’d been up fucking all night and here come I, insisting on our date because I thought I’m the center of the fucking world. I suddenly felt very ignorant and stupid. 

Later we went to a bar cause he wanted to see a Basketball game. It was the same bar we had gone on our first date on. The first and the last, how ironic.  At some point he asked me how I felt about what he’d told me about the other woman “x?” he asked. I took a deep breath and said that actually, he had done me a favor, because I anyways knew that it would be better for me to break things off and that by doing that he had forced me to pull the emergency breaks rather sooner than later.  “So, this is the last time we will see each other like this?”, he asked. And I said “yes.” He said that he understands. And that he just doesn’t have anything to offer right now and that he knows that he would fuck anything serious up.  I said I understood. He said thanks for being cool about it and I said that I thank him for being honest and that he never promised anything to me so we’re cool.  He asked me if I think that he should not be seeing people since he doesn’t want anything serious and I said no, as long as he is open and honest about it I don’t see a problem. 

The next morning I left. I felt okay. I knew I was gonna be fine. 

The same evening I got a text from him. It was a random message, him saying something about having broken his phone and that he wasn’t sure if I had messaged him or not... it sounded like an excuse. The following days I received a few more messages like that from him and I was confused. I wanted him to disappear so I could forget him but he didn’t.  Then I sank into a whole and had a really hard time not texting him. And then I caved. I sent him a random message about wether he already managed to stop smoking. He replied promptly and he replied exactly what I wanted to hear. With an invitation to come see him.  And I did. 

Ever since we agreed to be “fuckbuddies”. It’s been a month now. I keep telling myself that I’m fine with it because I was never “in love” with him, that all that was hurt is my ego. That it’s only my ego that wants him to fall in love with me.  Point a gun to my head and I couldn’t tell you if that’s the truth or not. I am not sure I have ever been so uncertain about my feelings for someone.  The thing is that he’s crazy. He talks about how he seriously considered be some sort of sex therapist because sex is the only thing he’s really good at and he thinks he could help women to feel better about themselves and be more in tune with their sexuality. I mean come on?! He isn’t even that good in bed. Sex with him is too raw. It’s lacking emotions. Connection.  And that’s only one example of how he’s a bit of a weirdo. So rationally, I know that he’s really not that great a catch. And yet, I care a lot about him and love spending time with him. He makes me feel... alive. 

I had met a guy on Tinder. He knew about it cause he keeps asking (teasing) me about my other encounters. This guy looked very promising and came to visit me for a few days. He jokingly referred to him as my boyfriend.  After the other guy left, he called me and asked how it went. He asked to tell him my “love story”. I said that it wasn’t a love story and we chatted for a bit.  He then said he had to go cause he was with a friend and I asked if maybe he had found love in the meantime and he said “no, not like that” but still made it clear that he was gonna fuck her. It stung a little knowing that right after hanging up the phone he would go be with another woman. 

A few days ago he asked me if I wanted to have a threesome with him and this other friend. I thought it was the nail in the coffin. I knew right there that I was definitely too emotionally invested cause the thought of seeing him kiss (and more) another girl made me feel anything else but excited.  So what am I doing? I basically then decided that that was it. But then he called and we had a nice chat and he asked when we’d see each other again and I just didn’t feel like doing some explaining. I can’t be bothered to explain (again) how I can’t keep seeing him cause I have feelings for him. Cause I don’t! Well I do but not like that. I don’t know.  I think I am confused because he is the first person I have been casual with that is actually a nice guy. He cares and he is loving in his own funny way and parts of our interactions feel very much like a relationship. 

We were supposed to see each other today but we canceled cause he has a cold sore. He got it a week ago when he had a fever. Three days ago he said he was with a friend (female) and from the conversation I thought he had made it clear that they were having sex. So when we talked about canceling today I said “well you saw your other friend and she didn’t mind” and he said “no I didn’t see my friend” and then he said something which sounded like “that’s a conversation we have to have” but I am not sure if I understood correctly.  So I am not sure what’s going on with that other chick. 

So this is the story thus far. We’re supposed to see each other next week and them I’m traveling for 4 weeks and I’m somehow pretty sure that’ll be the end of it. And I’m completely fine with that.  I know that a big part of my interest in him is cause I am bloody addicted to male attention and there’s nobody else around right now. 

[charlottestarchild]

Maestro

I called him Maestro because I loved the fact that he taught me things. He taught me to play chess, skip stones on the sea and he showed me a few new tricks in bed... 

It was a Tinder date. I liked him from the first messages on because he said things like “sorry for responding so late” when he didn’t respond within minutes which is what he usually did. It’s a small thing but somehow just makes me feel immediately more valued.  We arranged the date pretty quickly cause we both agreed that long back and forth is a waste of time and that it’s better to right away see if there’s a spark or not. 

I was super nervous about the date. I drove to visit him cause somehow I felt more comfortable having my car and being able to leave whenever I want to.  When I got out of the car and saw him for the first time I was a bit turned off to be honest. Somehow his face looked like he had some deformation or sth. But I quickly realized it was just his very “edgy” face and the way he held his head sometimes. He was gorgeous. Tall, strong, not as in good shape as on his Tinder pictures but I don’t care much for sixpacks. I like them on the chubby but strong side. His curls were adorable and he was wearing a 5-day beard. I was instantly into him. 

I parked my car at his and we rode his motorbike to town. I loved it.  The date was nice, we went to play pool and I found out that he doesn’t drink cause he’s a recovering alcoholic. I didn’t mind a bit.  We continued walking around, got some iced coffee and went to sit by the beach. At some point I said that I’ll head home soon and he asked why I won’t stay. I gave him a surprisingly honest answer: “I really like sex and if I come to your place we’ll end up having sex and I don’t want that to happen yet”. He was like “why?! what would be so bad about it?”. Again I surprised myself with a very honest answer: “I really like you and want to see you again”. And he was like “...and if we have sex we won’t see each other again?” I said that that happens with guys sometimes and that I just prefer it this way. He didn’t push for it.  “But” he said “I will kiss you because it’s such a beautiful moment.” He scootched over and kissed me and OH MY GOD. Fireworks. The chemistry was intense and we just couldn’t stop kissing each other. At some point we even giggled cause we both felt it. 

At some point we left and we drove to his place. He asked if I wanted to come up and I said yes cause I really needed to pee. We ended up kissing some more and it was intense. I wanted him so bad but I decided that I won’t give in. Besides I was on my period... and I wasn’t gonna have our first time be on my period. A few more minutes of intense kissing and I detangled myself from him and drove home.   

[charlottestarchild]

Update on Betrayal 2.0

The last entry was on November 24th... More than half a year ago. I never wrote an update on my very emotional entry from back then however the story does deserve an update. 

Re-reading the entry now it is impactful how blurry ones vision gets when one is so hurt. How everything is pitch black, no room for grey. I was certain that the messages I was reading on his phone back then were crystal clear. No room for interpretation yet explanation. 

It turns out though, there was. What I had done was dug deep into his private life and ripped out the pieces that served my storyline of him being a cheat and a lier. And although he was far from innocent and the messages he had exchanged with these women were inappropriate - he wasn’t quite as evil as I made him to be. 

It was him who reached out to me after 2 weeks of silence. And after a few messages I gave him the chance to explain himself.  He came to visit and we had one of the most grown-up conversations about it all that I ever had in my life. I was very impressed by how open he was about everything and that he had no problem appearing vulnerable in front of me. So we worked things out.

We lasted another 6 months after that. It was a good 6 months and in the end, the relationship came to an end due to rather mundane issues. The combination of me being in the middle of renovating one and building another house and he being in the middle of a professional and economic crisis plus the distance left very little room for romance and spontaneity. Which we both wanted and needed. 

#breakups #longdistance #onoff #romance  

[charlottestarchild]

Betrayal 2.0

I’m guessing you will never read these lines but I need to write them down to get them out of my system. 

I need to write them down in an attempt to process what happened. To stop my mind from this never ending loop of repeating every single moment. 

The first time I broke up with you, it was over a feeling, a sensation that you were not earnest with me. That you didn’t really care about me. That you were putting on a show and that you came to see me, spend time with me when it fits your schedule but the moment something better, something or someone more interesting came along you would neglect me. It turns out that feeling was right. Although you tried so hard to sway me with words, to make me believe that you really loved me, deep down I always had this sentiment that something was not right. Those times when you would suddenly not text me for days, when you would be more short spoken than other times, it wasn’t because I was paranoid or imagining things. It was because you indeed did have “better things” to do. 

I don’t and will never be able to understand how someone can lie so profoundly. How someone can tell someone that they love everything about them and yet say exactly the same thing to another person at the same time. 

It is fascinating how this is happening the second time in a row. How I fall for a guy, a guy that I initially wasn’t even so “keen on” just because he showers me with beautiful words. Because he “love bombs” me like my friend likes to call it. You would drown me in loving words and messages, leaving me no other choice but to become addicted to it. I would constantly check my phone, hoping for more love from you. 

And just like with the other guy, I would feel so good in your arms. So comforted, so whole. How is it that this feeling can be produced with lies? Shouldn’t the body, if not the mind, at least be able to see, feel past the lies? 

Just like with the other guy, the sex was incredible. It felt like we were made for each other, like nobody could fit better, like nobody could ever understand my body better than you. 

And funnily enough, just like the other guy, you’re a guy that when looking beyond the facade isn’t even that impressive. You’re struggling to get your life in order. You’re lost. And therefore you’re refusing to grow up, to take responsibility, to really commit and give yourself to one person. Just like you made me addicted to you, you are addicted to the attention of women. No matter how much attention I would give you, it wouldn’t be enough to fix your broken self worth. 

I had no other choice than to check your phone. It was the only way I could ever really know because would I have asked you, you would have lied to my face like you did so many times before. Would I have asked you if you are faithful, if you are seeing other people, you would have never told me the truth. On the contrary, you would have made me feel like I’m the crazy one. That’s why I don’t feel bad or ashamed that I’ve done it. I am glad I trusted my intuition. I am glad that I discovered these messages with all these other women. Because now I know that you were a fraud and I won’t waste my time any longer. 

What is key here, is that this is the second time it’s happening to me. Why is that? Why is it that I let myself be fooled by someone I initially didn’t even fancy? 

Is it that I rather let myself be fooled than to be alone? Is it that I secretly always knew but thought I could handle it? That I could “keep my cool” and not develop feelings for you and just enjoy the ride? Is it the deep desire to find someone who not only says all these beautiful things but truly means them? To find someone where passion can exist alongside pure respect for each other? 

In both these occasions I offered the opportunity to be honest on a silver plate. To tell me straight up that you’re not into monogamy. But you preferred to lie and deceive. You preferred to make me believe that I was the only one. Telling me “I am yours” while having sex. This is what hurts the most. The fact that you refused, albeit given the option, to tell me the honest truth and give me a choice. A choice to play this game with you rather than being played. 

And yet, after all this betrayal and with facts in hand that you deceived me, I sit here, hoping for a message from you. Missing you and wanting nothing more than to feel your hand on my skin. 

[charlottestarchild]

I’m tired

I’m tired of feeling ugly. I’m tired of my hair falling out like I’m going through chemo therapy. I’m tired of not being present. I’m tired of inspecting every single imperfection in my face and in my body. I’m tired of always falling for guys I’m initially not in to and getting my heart broken. I’m tired of having to update everyone on how I am. I’m tired of feeling lost. I’m tired of feeling boring. I’m tired. 

[charlottestarchild]

Abuela Ayahuasca

I think it was about 3 or 4 years ago when I read about Ayahuasca in Time Magazine for the first time. What was described there sounded far from appealing or spiritual. The piece was about a Ayahuasca center somewhere in New York I believe, where groups of 20 people would come together to take the medicine and then all vomit into their buckets during the process. 

Since then, I came across Ayahuasca a couple of times in various conversations. One very good friend of mine started talking to me about it about a year ago and described it as a beautiful experience that heals the body and the mind. Slowly I started thinking that maybe there is more to it than the image of a group of people barfing violently I had carried in my mind since reading that article. 

But I was hesitant. I had been dealing with depression and burn out for a few years and I knew I was carrying a lot of baggage regarding my family, so I wasn’t sure if I wanted to open that “door” and see what’s behind it. By this description you can already tell what sort of an expectation I had. To me, taking Ayahuasca meant discovering something hidden. Something I didn’t know or wasn’t aware before. Like there was something locked down inside of me that was the reason for why I was just a shadow of myself, never enjoying the present moment, always ruminating. And if only I could open that door and see, everything would make sense and I would finally start to live my life. 

Another year passed and my friend told me that there would be a ceremony on the 27th of December. He mentioned it casually but I knew he mentioned it because he wanted me to go. He was certain it would be good for me. Heal my heart and align my mind. Well, that’s what I need right? It’s what I’ve been craving for. For someone or something to finally align my mind and stop me from overthinking every single bit and start to actually enjoy, treasure and value my life. 

So after a few weeks of sitting on the idea I decided to go for it. The only reason I was hesitating was because I was mortified of shitting my pants in front of other people or otherwise embarrass myself. And another part of me was afraid I would have an allergic reaction or lose my mind and come out of the experience a vegetable. But hey, no risk no fun. Maybe this is the step I need to take to be free. 

I asked my friend to sign me up and asked for some instructions. What to wear, what should I bring, should I stop eating at some point during the day? The first surprise was that the ceremony would go through the night starting 9pm and ending around 9am. Ok... one night in the jungle it is. I knew the place where the ceremony would be held. I had done a Temazcal there a few months back and thought it was a beautiful experience. I knew some of the people but was still nervous because my friend was not able to attend and be by my side (he didn’t have the money, 1500 pesos was just not in it for him right now). He assured me though that his family of friends would take could care of me. 

The day of the ceremony I felt slightly nervous. Still mostly worried I would end up in hospital. But at some point I decided to let go. I hitched a ride with another German who also went there and did it for the first time. What a comfort. 

We arrived and there was a circle of grass mats in a wide open area among beautiful trees. It was dark already so I couldn’t really see the faces of people and had no idea if I knew anyone or not. There was one familiar face though, a guy - super handsome - from the neighbouring village who met a year ago. I was pleasantly surprised that he remembered me. I sat next to the other German girl, who sat next to pretty guy and we waited for things to settle. It took quite some time and I’m guessing it took about 2 hours of sitting around before things started happening. 

The Shaman was from Ecuador and he came with a full entourage who were all sitting right next to us. His “wife and daughters” - which was puzzling me a bit because the 3 ladies right next to me all looked of the same age and it was hard to tell which was which. I could sense scepticism in the back of my head of the credibility of this bunch. One of the women had a small baby, I’m guessing 1 year old. 

The Shaman started explaining in Spanish and then translated a bit into English because there was one other foreigner among us. Me and the other German thought to speak enough to understand so we didn’t out ourselves as needing English translation. I felt a bit guilty for making the other foreigner feel like he’s the only one. Guess it would have made him feel better if he knew there’s other non native Spanish speakers. 

We were told that you always walk in a circle from left to right and usually you do a full circle before exiting the circe but because Ayahuasca is so strong and has its own ways it’s ok to just go from your place to the exit and back. One should still respect a few rules though, like not leaving the circle when chanting is going on and not crossing in front of someone who is barfing. There it was. Barfing. He said it. So that seems to be a thing indeed. 

He continued to explain that if you need to vomit you should do it straight in front of you. Apparently something to do with energy. Someone would then come and put soil on top of the vomit so not to worry. There would be two occasions where tobacco pipes will be smoked. In the beginning and the end of the ceremony and it is recommended to be present in the circle during those times. 

Ok. Leave the circle only from the inside walking left to the “exit” but not when someone is vomiting or chanting; if you need to vomit, just vomit. All clear. I think I’m ready.  

After quite a bit more talk and explanations on how the dry toilets work, the Shaman took the pipe and started saying his “prayers” and thank yous. Chanting started and then he would take the big glass jug filled with Bordeaux coloured liquid and start to distribute it going through the circle one by one, handing everyone a small shot glass full of the medicine. I’m 4th in line after the wife and 2 daughters. I take the glass, swallow the juice, it tastes bitter but not horrible. A small plate with slices of apple is passed on, apparently to help against the bitter taste. I chew on a slice. 

The Shaman walks the whole circle and serves everyone an equal portion of the medicine. And to my bewilderment, he also serves it to a few of the kids. I’m bad at guessing kids ages but I’d say they are around 8 or 9. I’m surprised, maybe a little shocked even. But hey, I’m not their parents and I’m not here to judge. I watch the Shaman finish the circle and sit down. We all sit in silence for a while and then the entourage starts chanting. 

At this point I’ve been sitting cross legged for probably 4 hours so I decide to lie down. 

I’m not sure how much time passes but suddenly I realize that I’m seeing things. My eyes are closed but I am surrounded by bright white light, more like I’m in an all bright white room and on the ceiling garlands of bright colors start to appear. Many colors, bright rainbow colors, it’s almost comic like, kind of what I always thought it must be to be on LSD. Once I realize that something is happening I force myself to open my eyes. I want to see what the world around me looks like high... So I slowly open my eyes, lying on my back on the ground and I look up towards the sky. I startle a little bit because the trees that are looming above me don’t look like trees anymore. They look more like woven nets or a mosaic made of geometrical shapes and they look like they’re looking at me, for a second I’m seeing a small monster sitting in the crown of the tree looking at me with curious eyes. I close my eyes again, gather some more strength and force myself to look again. And once I get over the initial scare I see how beautiful it looks. It’s a beautiful vision, hallucination and I start to smile at its beauty. Right that very moment when a smile forms on my lips a huge leave lands right on my face and I twitch to the side in shock and quickly wipe the leave off my face with my hand - we’re in the middle of the jungle after all, anything could have landed on my face. But it was just a leave and I start to relax again. I look up at the trees again and they still look beautiful. It’s a weird structure, kind of reminding me of the huichol beaded art that they sell here everywhere. There are no colors though, it’s almost only black and white. I smile again, smiling kind of takes an effort, I need to deliberately command my face muscles to “smile” and it feels like my face is made of rubber. 

After a while I decide that it’s time to get up. I can’t be sitting around all the time. So I make an effort to put myself up right to a sitting position. When I get up and look around it’s like everyone is in a trance, moving in wavy motions back and forth. The ground seems to be shifting as well. I think I hear someone barf. The whole scene is rather odd and I’m not sure I’m liking it. 

I sit upright for a while, looking around, looking at the fire in the middle of us. I can’t really tell for how long I sit there but at some point I feel like the hallucinations stopped and I have my wits together again. I look up at the sky, the trees and the trees just look like trees again. At some point I think I decide to lie down again. I’m feeling my body, kind of trying to see if I feel ill. But I seem to be feeling fine. Suddenly my stomach starts to squeeze but it’s not too bad. Then, lying down again, I start to feel different body parts, my legs, thighs, my hands, my face, it’s kind of tingling, numbing sensation. It feels kind of nice.  I think I’m drifting off into sleep. Suddenly I’m wide awake again and I feel incredibly drowsy and heavy. I thought I was done but out of the blue the medicine decided to kick me into the stomach. I am lying on my side and notice that I’m talking to myself in my head “I don’t want this anymore. Please, make it stop. I just want to go home. I don’t want this anymore”. I answer back to myself “stop whining, you wanted answers no try and live through this and make the best of it”. But my stomach isn’t having it and I realize I have to get to the toilet as soon as humanly possible. So in my utter delirium I get onto my feet and wobble out of the circle. It’s a miracle that I am not falling face flat into the flames of the fire pit that is right in front of me. I walk as fast as my legs carry me towards the dry toilet only to notice that it’s occupied. Fuck. Fuck it. I have to poop. I sit down next to the dry toilet building, pull down my pants just in time for explosive like poop to make its way onto the jungle floor. I squat on the ground and try not to wobble or topple over. I have no clue who is in the toilet and I couldn’t, literally, give less of a shit about that person hearing me shit loudly like I never shat before. At some point the person leaves the dry toilet and walks by me. I look to the floor for him or her not to see my face. I wipe my but with a piece of paper I find in my pants pocket and make my way into the now available dry toilet. But I’m done. I sit for a while and then get back to the circle, again wobbling like I’m made out of rubber, passing people vomiting (fuck the rule of not passing someone who is vomiting), I need to get back to my place and sit / lie down.  

I’m not sure what happens next. I think I fall asleep. I’m done. None of this is fun anymore. People left and right are barfing like there’s no tomorrow, loudly as if they’re throwing up their intestines. I feel sorry for them. 

I hear a baby crying. Right, one of the Shaman’s harem ladies had a baby with her. It’s crying. And someone is comforting it but it sounds like the person is doing it too harshly. I’m worried. And annoyed. How could someone be so irresponsible to bring a baby into this circle of hallucinations and projectile vomit? Everyone in the circle drank the Ayahuasca. Everyone. Not a single person stayed sober. What if someone needs help? Who would be able to drive to the hospital? All sorts of things could happen. 

The Shaman asks once or twice if anyone wants more Ayahuasca and a few people say yes. 

Some more time passes and I drift in and out of sleep. I think the worst part is over. I feel ok. Rather sober in fact. I listen to the chanting. It’s beautiful. Also the other people around me seem to be sobering up. 

The wife of the Shaman is walking around the circle with a fan made of eagle feathers, doing some cleansing ritual. When she’s done, she grabs the jug of Ayahuasca and proclaims that now, we will all have the last round of Ayahuasca and that, although not mandatory, it is strongly recommended that everyone takes some. She’s saying it in her rooster, cocky kind of way, kind of jokingly but with an authority that I don’t feel she deserves. 

She starts to make the round. I’ve made up my mind that I will not have any more of this devils potion. “No valio la pena” as the Mexican would say. Not worth it. I just got over feeling super shit and happy it’s over. So when she reaches me, I politely smile at her and say “no gracias”. She looks at me in astonishment and talks to me like I’m a small child, insisting I take some more. It’s just a little sip and I will be surrounded by beautiful flowers and love and I should have some. Have some. She pushes the shot glass in my face and push-over as I am, I take the glass and swallow the brew. I’m annoyed. This is my first time and a no should be a no. WTF. 

I’m only hoping that the tiny bit won’t really do much. And it actually doesn’t. No hallucinations and I only feel a little nauseous at some point. I don’t even need to poop. Well, how could I, there is no chance there’s anything left in my stomach. So after I feel safe that no further run to the bathroom is required I decide I’m ending this and go to sleep. I manage to sleep quite well. I even have a dream but I can’t remember what it was after waking up. 

The sky looks like we must be getting closer to sun rise. What a relieve. This feeling is confirmed by the Shaman preparing the tobacco pipe. “We will have two tobacco ceremonies - at the beginning and the end” he said. So this must be the end. He prepares the pipe, takes a puff and starts to talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. I am sure, some of it, if not a lot of it is lost in translation. But I’d like to believe that my understanding of Spanish is good enough by now to be able to tell that what he is saying is of absolutely no substance. All I hear is “let’s be grateful for our sea, mountains, trees, .... listing all possible natural elements.... for our family, our cousins, mothers, fathers, kids, .... listing all possible relatives... and he says that in various ways in what seems an endless loop. Finally he passes the pipe on to the next person. The wife of the owner of the land we’re on. And while I thought “well, she’s surely gonna cut it short since he was rambling for like ever, she too, goes into an endless monologue of gratefulness. I mean like, she talks for 15min non stop. 

I don’t want to sound like an asshole here but I am exhausted and all this talk really doesn’t speak to me. The few words that my friend Memo usually says during his Yoga classes seem so much more meaningful to me than this endless bla bla of statements that seem so utterly self explanatory that I just don’t see the point. This is preaching to the quire out of the books. 

After the pipe finally makes it’s way back to the Shaman it seems we’re nearing the end of the ceremony for real. We’re all awake now, nobody is barfing anymore and nobody seems to have taken any major damage. Even the baby and the kids are fine. 

Water is being passed around. Which again turns into a ritual of endless talking before the first person actually gets to take a sip. The person passing around the water is the owner of the land, my good friend Memo’s friend and the person Memo would say would also make sure that I am fine. When he finally gets to me and passes me the water, I make eye contact and say thank you for the water, we shake hands, say “buenas dias” like he did with everyone and he moves on. Wouldn’t it have been nice of him to ask “how are you? everything ok”. But no. He chit chatted with others but he didn’t seem bothered to inquire about my wellbeing. Fair enough.  

They’re inviting us to stay for the Temazcal which will be prepared within 1,5h but right now I think I just want to go home. Not even so much because I feel exhausted, but because I don’t feel comfortable. I don’t feel like anyone in this round was particularly interested in me feeling comfortable. After I came back from the bathroom, it seems my alarm went off and so my phone had been ringing. A lady pointed at my bag and snapped at me “your phone has been ringing for like 5min”. It’s 8.02 so as a matter of fact it had been ringing for 2min. Which can be annoying, I get it but the ceremony was over, people were standing around and chatting. It’s not like it went off in the middle of the ceremony. 

And besides, before ANYONE ELSE, it was the Shamans wife who took her phone out first thing after the ceremony officially ended. Give me a break. 

It’s funny how even in supposedly spiritual situations like this I study and analyze the people around me. Or more like, how some people stand out for better or worse. There was pretty guy, gay guy, red head gringo guy and there was the Colombian girl who so obviously wanted to be “teachers favorite” that it really annoyed me. The way and the kind of questions she asked and everytime the “mic would be opened to the public” meaning other people than the Shaman and his close circle could speak she would start to speak so fake poetically that I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. And of course at the end of her speech she would start crying. Oh my. 

But also the wife of the Shaman was, in my honest and very personal opinion, full of Bullshit. A pretty woman, no doubt, and very aware of it she would walk around the circle like a all too proud rooster. And at times, she would even interrupt the Shaman. I might have to give her benefit of doubt due to language barrier but sometimes she would bluntly interrupt the Shaman and she would kind of make a joke of what he had just said. You know, the kind of like when someone says “The sky is blue” and the other person kind of goes like “blue, eh?” as if to say “aren’t you just stating the obvious”. 

So what do I think about all this now that a few days have passed? I think my conclusion is that it was an interesting but not a very nice experience. 30 people are way too many people to have an intimate experience. Sure, if you know all 30 and consider them your friends then you might feel alright and comfortable. But for a stranger, it really didn’t work. Neither did I feel save, nor particularly welcome or taken care of. And some things just seemed like bullshit too me. At least I didn’t feel like it was an authentic experience. Maybe if the Shaman would have been on his own yes, but the whole entourage around him - I didn’t get that. I don’t understand for example how his wife had the authority to pass around the medicine. She liked her role way too much and that’s the problem. She was playing a role. 

As for the actual medicine. It wasn’t worth the trouble. The little hallucinations I had didn’t feel spiritual in any way. I didn’t feel like I learned something new about myself or felt more connected to nature in any way. And just for some pretty rainbow colors and monsters in trees I don’t need to be surrounded by barfing people for a whole night. 

I also couldn’t really say that it would have helped me afterwards with any of my conditions. Quite the opposite. I found myself propelled back into a major depression, my skin issues flaring up again big time. Things I had worked hard to get over and instead of helping me progress I felt I made 5 steps back. 

All in all, I don’t regret having done it but definitely feel like I could have spent my time and money more wisely. Maybe I’ll just get a nice massage next time. 

[charlottestarchild]

Don’t take me for a fool

“baby come to be with me“ “im addictd to you too” “and its a good thing” "all i care its to be with you” “Love you to the moon and back“ “Quero te tanto.. És uma luz na minha vida que me faz acreditar no amor outra vez. Obrigado por existires, por seres que és. Amo-te“ “We are unique” "You can write that down” That’s how you trap me. With words. With words so beautiful it is impossible to think they could be a lie. And yet, every cell of my body tells me to stay away from you. To not listen to those beautiful words because that’s all they are. Words. How many women have heard them from you. How do I know? How is it possible that although everything you say and do is a proof of your love for me and yet I see it as the opposite. You say “I love you” and I hear “I will break your heart”. Why is it that I get so obsessed. Obsessed by proofing that you are not sincere. To proof that you do not love me but that you’re a fraud. Someone who gets infatuated with someone very quickly. And then also loses interest very quickly. What is it that turns me into this monster of a woman that goes to check your phone, counts your instagram followers and stalks when and for how long you’re online on whatsapp. When I talked to my therapist about being burned out and feeling like I don’t perform well enough at my job, she asked me “have you gotten any kind of negative feedback”? And the answer was no. I hadn’t. I hadn’t gotten negative feedback, it was all in my head. Is this the same? Have I gotten “feedback” from you that signals that you don’t love me. That I’m not enough? No. I haven’t. So is it all in my head?

Why can’t I live in the moment and just enjoy what you give me. Without wondering if you give the same to other women? Why does that need to matter so much? I’m not even sure if I love you... so why the stress? Why the anxiety?

The answer is, that even more than being afraid that you’ll break my heart is the fear that you’re taking me for a fool. That we are not unique.

[charlottestarchild]

When they ask me what I liked best, I’ll say it was you.

It’s been a long time since I wrote and it’s time for an update. Live has been an incredibly mixed bag, full of skyrocketing highs and hell-deep lows. The paradox that is live is still challenging me with the lemons it tries to throw at me and I am still not any better at making lemonade.

As usual, lots of what has happened has centred around men. I guess it’s fair to say that I have come to terms with the biggest feelings in me always being evoked by men. No matter what other amazing things happen, my mind and heart only seems to care about that one thing. For the past one and half years that I’ve been single I tried hard to teach myself to be content on my own. To not seek for affection and validation from men and just be happy and strong on my own. But maybe it’s a fool’s errand I’m running. Maybe it is better to allow myself to recognize that what I am seeking is love. Not any kind of love. But the deep, sincere and passionate love you see in movies. It’s no coincidence that when I feel depressed I turn to watch movies or TV shows in which the story is built around two people deeply caring for each other with such passion that nothing can keep them apart. The sort of love Romeo feels for Juliet, Jamie feels for Claire and Seth feels for Maggie. And come to think of it, all of these are examples where their love is not meant to be – Juliet falling in love with the rivalling family’s son, Claire falling in love with Jamie, a man 200 years her junior and Maggie falling in love with Seth the Angel. All of them overcome incredible obstacles between them to be together. Watching these movies makes me weep. Because deep down I know that there is a high chance that I will die and never have felt the kind of love these characters feel for each other. And then I get angry and mad at myself for being so naïve and stupid to chase after fairytales. Does love like that exist in real life? I know not one real life example. Not one. So, it seems I am setting myself up for failure and yet, what can I do. The heart demands what the heart demands. It also seems that this is a reason why I keep falling for the unlikely lover. The Swiss scoundrel musician, the Brazilian passionate forever bachelor. There is one lover I haven’t told you about. His name is Nate and he is also quite the unlikely lover. We matched on Tinder and at first I was certain I matched with a fake profile. He had only one image but that packed a punch. We started texting and that’s all we did for 2 weeks since I was traveling. When I got back home we decided to meet – he kind of invited himself to my place suggested I cook something. He came, and besides the fact that he didn’t seem to like the food I had cooked we also didn’t exactly hit it off conversation wise. It became clear quite quickly that we had huge differences in values – him having had a conservative Muslim upbringing in Egypt and me having been brought up very liberal. There was mention of his marriage having been arranged and sometimes he would start sentences with “in my religion we do...”. At some point during the evening I was certain I should send him home;  but, we both had had some beers and he had come by car and since he was hot after all and I was needy I thought to myself “might as well”. 

Looking back, it was one of the best decisions I’ve made in the past year. The sex was out of this world not just because I finally seemed to have found someone who put my pleasure over his own. But he just also clearly knew what he was doing. The way he touched me, held me in his strong arms, kissed me. It was so full of passion that it took me quite by surprise. That first night, we had sex for hours and after that he stayed the night and we fell asleep tired, in each others arms.   That was back in September. 8 months ago. We have been dating ever since. Not very seriously in the sense that we are not boyfriend and girlfriend and have never had “the talk” in which we defined our relationship. But somehow it just worked for both of us. He has a complicated family life – technically still married and has two kids but is trying to get a divorce which, let’s just say is neither a very common nor a very easy thing to do in his culture. And me, not really wanting a relationship cause “hey, I’m an independent woman now” and also traveling a lot. So, we have been meeting every so often, usually every 2-3 weeks. And every time, we meet we have a fantastic time together. We cook together, laugh, watch football or a movie and still, each time, have incredible sex.  He is also the first guy who does not fool around. With that I simply mean that he doesn’t make things more complicated than they need to be. When he reads my message, he replies. As soon as he’s read it. That might not sound like a big deal but it actually is. Because for some reason all my earlier encounters ALWAYS took their time replying. Often having me wait for days and the replying in an ambigous way. He doesn’t do that. He doesn’t play. He is straight forward, honest and when I ask for example “when will we meet again” he says things like “honey, you tell me when you have time and I will make it happen”. I appreciate that a lot in him. I can also tell that he is an incredibly loving father to his children and just generally a good guy. Which really isn’t what I expected when I first saw him. Why? Because he is insanely good looking and the first impression you might get is that he is a total player. I’ve stayed sceptic all throughout us dating but not a single time has he given me any reason to believe that he’s playing with me or using me. At least not more than I am using him. And knowing quite a bit about his family life I know for a fact that he wouldn’t even have time to date other women as well. He is super sensual and caring and lying in his arms has been the rock that kept me sane over these past months where depression and burn out have been taking quite a toll on me again. But we both always knew our time together had an expiration date and a short while ago we found out about that date. The second of June. That’s when he will move back to Egypt and although I keep telling myself that I am not in love with him, it will crush my heart. But if he is so amazing, why am I not in love with him you might ask. Well, remember those differences in values? That is a real thing. And although he is a truly good human being, he for example is very narrow minded when it comes to for example immigration and matters around sexual orientation. It’s just the way he’s been brought up. Not sharing the same values on such crucial world views is, I believe, what keeps me from truly falling in love with him. Looking at it one way, I guess that’s a good thing. p.s.: I will keep editing this story over the next few weeks, our last weeks together.  Edit 1: After having been 3 weeks apart, we met last night. We had dinner together and then things moved to the bedroom pretty quickly. I don’t know if it was the fact that we hadn’t seen each other for a long time, or the fact that we both now that the end of our relationship is near but it almost seemed like our love making was even more passionate which is not something I thought possible. The embrace we were in was so strong it almost took my breath away. After many hours, we went to sleep. Usually I first fall asleep in his arms but then for comfort I turn around playing “little spoon”. I fell into a light slumber when I suddenly noticed he was stroking my hair, my cheek, my shoulder. Somehow it felt like the most loving and caring way I have ever been touched. I will never forget it. 

Edit 2: Well... this didn’t exactly end as I expected and I’m not even sure what happened. I’ll just lay it out for you and you can make up your own mind as to what went wrong here.  So... after our last meeting which went really well and the fact that I knew he was leaving soon anyways, I kind of felt like I can let my guard down. Which only meant that I was a bit more forthcoming in expressing the fact that I’d like to see him as much as possible before he leaves. I wrote to him that I had only one wish before he left and that it was that we’d spend one full night and day together, without me having to go to work in the morning or him having to pick up his kids. His response was super sweet, he said that yes for sure we will manage because he is also tired of rushing away first thing in the morning and he also “needs this”. All fine and dandy. He then said that he will try and get a day off from the kids on the weekend so we could be together. That was on a Monday. By Wednesday evening I still hadn’t heard from him and so I texted him - here is the conversation

What you need to know, is that he will move to Egypt with the kids but his ex wife (”that woman”) will not follow until a few months later. So what my message was trying to express was just surprise that she would care about her kids so little that she’d rather go to her cousin than spend time with her kids while she still can. 

Either way, I did not respond to his last message as I was pissed off about him telling me off by saying “let me deal with it my way”. I was pissed because over the past months I had been incredibly understanding, patient and tolerant about his situation with his ex and him having to cancel meetings last minute due to stuff with the kids etc. Fact is, his situation with his ex is so fucked up that not a lot of women would have made up with that shit. But I did, so I didn’t need him telling me to let him deal with it his way.  So I didn’t reply. And neither did he. That conversation happened on Wednesday. He did not text to confirm if we would meet on the weekend or not. He did not message me at all. For a week. I then saw a post on his instagram that he was on his way to the Netherlands. And I was gonna go to Croatia the following weekend. So this then confirmed, that the only day we would still see each other would be the public holiday before the weekend he was leaving. Although I even had my doubts about that since I knew he had to pack and empty his apartment etc.  But the point was... here we were, having a few last chances to spend time together and you decide to be an asshole and not text me.  Of course I thought if I should text him, if I’m over reacting. But no... I was super clear about what it was I wanted - see him. And I wasn’t the one not having time. So the ball was definitely in his court.  So one lonely and sad Wednesday evening I decide to re-download Tinder. Just to pass time and see what’s out there. And guess who I came across. Mr. “let me deal with it my way”. 

Now again, you might say “well you were on Tinder too”. But the reason why I think this is a bit different is because I will still spend time in this country while he is leaving in two weeks... I had been on Tinder every so often and never ran into his profile anymore and this was a new profile, with very recent images, so he had to have set it up recently.  It stung. Badly.  I did what I always do in situations like this, which is be dramatic. I removed him from my Instagram, unfollowed him and deleted all messages.  And that’s it. End of story. Never heard from him. He’s leaving in 5 days.  I was quite sad for a while because it could have ended with love and respect for each other. But it all went to shit instead. Most of all I felt stupid because I truly thought he cared about me in some way. 

[charlottestarchild]

I’ll be happy when...

Recently I sat with two of my friends and while we were having tea and ranting about life, one of them said that happiness is like this shimmering oasis in the far distance that only seems to move further and further away the closer you get. There is always something else. I’ll be happy when...I found a new job. I’ll be happy when... I get a raise. I’ll be happy when... I find a boyfriend. I’ll be happy when...My boyfriend starts to help me more in the house.  You reach one “goal” and you immediately focus on something else you don’t have but you want. When do we finally reach the moment when we are not aiming or longing for something else? When are we satisfied, content, happy? 

This is true for material objects as well as matters of the heart and mind.  There’s always a better car, a bigger house, a more expensive holiday. We are bombarded daily with the seemingly perfect lives of others. Their amazing bodies, their great new hairstyle, their perfect brunch with their perfect friends. How can we start to focus more on what really matters? What does really matter? 

About a year ago, I met a person while traveling and she was telling me about the owner of her AirBnB. This lady in her late 60s who seemed to have lived a really interesting life. And I thought to myself... That’s what I want. I want to be able to say that I lived an interesting life. The follow-up question is of course “define interesting”.  So I thought, interesting to me means that I want to have seen the world - not just visited different places but lived in them and experienced their culture. I want to have met interesting people - not many, but interesting, real people who I could learn from. And I want to feel like I had an impact on the world around me.  

So what do I have to account for so far? I am 35, one could think I have lived through half of my life and how interesting has that been so far? I have lived in 4 cities in 2 countries. I speak 3 languages and am learning a 4th one at the moment. I have a really interesting job where I earn good money. I was married, got divorced and experienced a rather wild 12 months since my divorce.  Is it enough? Do I feel like I’m happy? Am I satisfied with this?  No.  So what else do I want?  Well. For one, I want more sunshine in my life.  I feel like the place I lived in for the past 11 years has served me well but it is time to move on. I want to experience something else still before setting down. Well, maybe I will never settle down. Which is a thought I am quite ok with. 

But right now, today, in this present moment, I am happy.  Short film “Happiness” by Steve Cutts:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlMAKpxN8N0

[charlottestarchild]

Journal - Entry 1

I keep reading everywhere that keeping a journal is the holy grail to mental stability. So here we go. From now on you’ll find stories mixed with journal entries.  It’s November 4th. I’m not quite sure what one is supposed to write in a journal so I’ll just write down whatever comes to my mind unfiltered. 

Today I went to the movies with a colleague. It was an ok movie. After that I was supposed to meet a friend but she had miscalculated times a bit and so we only met very briefly for a hug and she gave me some medicine she had bought for me. The fact that instead of meeting her at the arranged time and place, I had to walk a few hundred meters to briefly meet her in another place completely through me off. On the way there were street musicians and I felt like punching them for the shitty happy drumming they were performing. I also almost ran into a guy selling the magazine of homeless people. On purpose. He was in my way. 

I then went to some 1h “new moon” meditation. Not sure if it counts as meditation because I think I was sleeping most of the time. 

I still have this very odd rash on my arms. It just won’t go away. The Ayurveda lady said the thinks I have anxiety and depression. Go figure. 

N. is supposed to come back on Tuesday and I hope to get to see him. I actually think that seeing him and having hour long sex with him will calm my nerves and get me back on track a bit. 

[charlottestarchild]

Figs and Charlotte

It’s 2018 and I am visiting my good old friend in a small remote village in the south of France. I haven’t seen her in years and can’t wait to spend some quality time with her. She’s staying with her kids at her parent’s place so I booked myself into a small, and as it turns out quite cute, B&B close to her place. The village is famous for its clay pottery and so it happens that the B&B is in an old pottery fabric. Everything is the color of terracotta. My friend’s parents grow grapes and have a lovely fruit garden. We go pick peaches, apricots and figs fresh from the tree each day … On the morning of the second day, I take my plate full of fresh fruit and walk to the little terrace in the backyard of my room to sit in the sun and enjoy my fruits. Walking up the concrete stairs to the little terrace, I catch a glimpse of a guy lying on the ground, earphones in his ears, doing yoga. I hesitate for a moment but then decide to go back. I would basically need to step over him in order to get to the chairs. Way too shy and respectful of his privacy for that.

Saturday night. The kids are at sleep. Maria and me decide to enjoy some quality time. We grab a bottle of wine and simply drag out some chairs from my room onto the street and set up our own little private bodega on the street. We’re drinking lovely wine and are chatting about all sorts of things. We have plenty to catch up. Suddenly the sound of a Ukulele gets to our ears from one of the windows above. Portuguese? She says and looks at me. I try to listen. Yeah. Sounds like Portuguese. We giggle a bit and continue chatting. The sound gets louder and suddenly you can hear two voices sing. We listen for a bit, suddenly the music stops. We look up at the window where the music came from and the guy from the morning appears in the window. “Hi” he says waving down to us. “Hi” we say back.

We keep chatting about her marriage, about my divorce, about live here and there. Suddenly Mr. Portuguese Ukulele Yogi walks down the street. We start chatting about how we heard him sing in Portuguese. He’s Brazilian so yes, it was Portuguese. He says he’s visiting his friend who is staying here. Two minutes later also his friend comes down the street. A funny looking guy in dangaroos, his colorful socks pulled up towards the knees, his dark beard shaved in a funny way, one long earring dangling from his left ear. After a bit more chit chat I ask if they don’t want to join us. “We have some more chairs we can pull out”. Without hesitation they agree. Fernao, that’s the name of the Brazilian, is tall, curly wild hair, glasses. Looks a bit nerdy. Not as hot as I thought from the glimpse I caught of him in the morning but still quite cute. Sami, is from Iran but lives in Austin, Texas, he is into pottery which is why he is here in this village; he starts telling us how he got totally hooked on it by watching YouTube videos and now he finds himself here, learning from the best of the best. He’s a storyteller, that much is clear. I like story tellers. He’s much shorter than Fernao, but has very dark, mysterious eyes.

We chat about things for a while when Maria suddenly gets a phone call. Her daughter has fever. She has to leave. I’m sad she has to leave. It was so nice catching up and even now, talking to these strangers together as if we were on a holiday somewhere together in our early 20s.

I stick around and chat some more with the two guys. I can’t really say what they’re up to. Sami makes me a compliment suddenly about how beautiful my face is. I have to laugh cause at this point of time I consider my face anything else but beautiful. I look over to Fernao, shrugging in his direction as if to say “what’s wrong with your friend”. We keep on drinking wine and talk about space, aliens, nature, random encounters. I ask if either one of them smokes and Sami gets up getting his tobacco from his room. We smoke. We drink wine. We talk. Cats join us. Sami feeds them so they stick around meowing for more food. Suddenly without any clear reason why, we all get up and there’s a sense of “party is over”. We all take the chairs inside, clear up the stuff, hug each other good night “was nice to meet you”.

Somehow, I’m relieved I didn’t end up in bed with either one of them. Not that there would have been clear interest from their side anyways but I’ve been having a bad conscious about my promiscuous lifestyle lately and that would have been too much. And I’m here to visit my friend and not to fuck around. Good girl.

The next morning I’m about to hop into the shower when someone knocks on my door. It’s Fernao. He’s got no shirt on. I’m only wrapped in a towel. “Good morning!” – “Good morning”. “Sami and I are planning to go to this remote beach today. We have a rental so we can drive around. I was wondering, well, I’m sure you have plans but if not, if you’d like to join us.” I explain that I don’t know because I need to wait for Maria to contact me. Her daughter has fever so I don’t know what’s going to happen. “Ok sure, well, let us know or at least come up for a coffee anyway.” “Sure.”

I get into the shower smiling.

I make myself another fruit plate and go to the terrace upstairs. Fernao is again there doing Yoga. But this time I dare to pass him and sit on one of the sun chairs. We chat a bit. He continues his yoga. Tells me how yesterday he got up at 7am and did a 3 hour yoga session. This place energizes him. Maria calls. Her daughter had bad fever last night and her sister’s dog died. I tell her not to worry about me, she should be with her family. I will go to the beach with the guys.

Within a few hours we are on our way to the beach. It’s a bit of a drive but eventually we get there. The beach can be reached after walking for about 15min through sand dunes. It’s scorching hot. Fernao is carrying his botijo with him. Sami carries his Ukulele and a football.

We get to the beach. It is anything else but remote. It’s filled with people. Naked people. It’s a nudist beach. I make nervous jokes, how funny it is that we think we’re going to some remote beach and we end up at a nudist beach. “Well, it’s not like we were going to wear swim wear at a remote beach anyways”, Fernao says. It doesn’t take 5min and both of them are butt naked. Great.

First round of swimming I leave on my bikini. But when Fernao starts to make handstands and wheels in the sand with his shlong dangling around I feel seriously overdressed and tell myself “ah what the fuck”. I take off my bikini. I’m not exactly comfortable with my body in broad sunlight. My boobs are tiny and my nipples are ugly when they’re not hard. But well. It’s not like those two are carved out of stone either.

I don’t exactly remember when but at some point I realize that Fernao is flirting with me.

I lay on my stomach, taking in the full sun. Fernao starts touching my back. I don’t know why but it makes me insanely horny. We swim, we eat, we drink beer, we swim – life could be worse. At some point Fernao is playing the Ukulele and Sami starts to massage my feet. And I’m lying there on my back wondering HOW DID I GET HERE? How am I here? On this beach, with these guys? By the way, not sure this is clear but they are both really nice fellas. Not dodgy at all. Just really nice, funny guys.

I did start to think at some point if they have some twisted plan of luring me into a threesome. For a second I am wondering if I could be convinced but no. Seems a bit much.

We go for another swim. It feels great to jump naked in the waves.

It’s getting late and I start to have a bad conscious about having fun here with these guys while Maria needs to deal with her sick daughter and a sad sister. I tell the guys that I need to get out of the sun; maybe we could start thinking of going back soon? They don’t really seem to want to and I don’t really want to push for it, since it’s their car and I don’t want to ruin their fun. I say I go for another swim and then we see.

When I get back from the water, Fernao has explored the area in the dunes and says there is a nice place in the shade where we can hang out for a little longer. I agree. We take our stuff to the dunes and make up a camp. Fernao even brought his hammock… :D

We hang out for a little longer and decide to go back. Finally. It’s already 7pm or sth.

Once we’re back I get in touch with Maria and we meet for dinner. After that, I go upstairs to join the guys. We drink some wine, chat. Sami goes to sleep. I guess he noticed Fernao and me flirting with each other. Fernao and me have been caressing each other’s back and hair all day. I think it takes not even 1min after Sami left and we’re kissing. I am so horny. How does this guy make me so horny? My Argentinian and Colombian friends have been telling me how Latin American guys are just different. Boy were they right. We’re sitting on the sun chair kissing and Fernao is leaning in on me when suddenly the fabric of the chair breaks and we’re both landing on the floor. We’re laughing.

We get up and continue kissing against the wall when he asks: “Can I take you somewhere where I can take all these clothes off?” Yes please.

We go to my room. As soon as I close the door behind me, Fernao pushes me against the wall, holds up my hands above my hand, kisses me passionately and seems to have his hands all over me. He lifts up my dress, squeezes my but, kisses my neck. I wrap my arms around him, he lifts me up so I am against the wall, legs wrapped around him. I slide down, he opens the zipper of my dress, slowly slides it down my shoulders. I’m not wearing a bra. I’m only in panties. He looks at me and smiles. Takes my hand and guides me to the bed. We make passionate love until we fall into a soft slumber. A few hours we wake up, make love again…

In the morning, we wake up next to each other. He says “Yesterday morning, Sami asked me what I’d like for today. And I said “Figs and Charlotte””.  

[charlottestarchild]

Darling

“Did I ask? Or did I make a proposition?” Those were the words that felt like you stabbed me with 10 knives. Prior to them being said, we had spent 2 days at a camping site with your friends. How did I get there? You suggested we meet in the summer, anywhere I want. Upon making a few suggestions you said it’s difficult for you to leave Switzerland due to the gigs you have to play with your band but why don’t I come to Switzerland and we have some camping time. So did you ask me to come to Switzerland? Or did you make a proposition? What’s the difference? Either way. I said yes. I said yes because I loved the idea of you and me spending time together. So we agreed on a date. You said great “let’s have some camping time”. I was a bit surprised by the suggestion... camping. But well why not. You promised to have everything set up by my arrival and I started dreaming about our romantic time together. 

So I got my plane tickets. The day finally came and I flew to Geneve and took a train to the small little village you had told me to come to. You promised to pick me up from the train station and so you did. It was strange to see you. Obviously I had all these fantasies in my mind of you kissing me passionately, holding me in your arms... But reality is not a Hollywood movie so we hugged a bit awkwardly. You said “I have a friend with me whose car broke down and we need to go pick up the instruments from the venue of last nights gig. I hope you don’t mind.” I didn’t, but wait... what? You have a friend with you? I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it but ok, let’s roll with it. 

We drove with the car to pick up the instruments and ran some other errands until we finally drove to the camping site.  And then it suddenly dawned on me. “Let’s have some camping time”. While I understood “YOU AND ME”, you meant “Me, you and my other 5 friends from my band”.  So here I was. At a camping site in Switzerland with you and your buddies. But hey... let’s roll with it. 

The first day / night was great. Of course I was a bit put off by all the people and everyone speaking French. But after dinner you asked me to come sit by the water with a bottle of wine and we had a great time together. Just you and me. We talked… about Totoro and your love for Japanese anime. And other things which I don’t remember. We went to the tent and had sex. Afterwards you said ”just like I remembered. Loved it”. But then things changed. During the day, you barely spoke to me, and surely didn’t touch me. While I found it very difficult to keep my hands off you, you acted like you couldn’t care less whether I was there or not. You did your thing. And I was also there. I tried to connect with your friends but not being super social myself it surely wasn’t easy. But your friends were very nice. Nicer than you in fact. They asked me about myself. You never did. Not about anything. Not about how my trip was, how the theatre play went, about my new tattoo, anything. I started to feel more and more foreign in this beautiful place. What was I doing here? Why was I here? I tried to suck it up. But the next day, a new stranger arrived. Juliette. I could immediately feel the electricity between you and her. Who was she? She was clearly flirting with you and you liked it. Again I sat there, wondering what the hell I am doing here and the pain in my stomach grew stronger and stronger. Your friend started making conversation with me. Davide. He was very nice. After a while he looked at me and asked “bored?” I just shrugged and he said “No comment, ha?”. It was as if he could see inside of me and he understood. It was then that I knew I was not imagining things. I wasn’t being a drama queen or difficult. This situation sucked and I needed to get out of it. I played along for the rest of the evening. Later, when we went to bed all hell broke lose inside of me when you just lay down next to me without a touch. Without a word. You just lay there. And the distance between us couldn’t have been bigger. My mind was racing. I didn’t know what to say and eventually I said “You’re making this very difficult for me.” – you said, “How do you mean? Because you love it here?” – “No, I don’t love it here.” I didn’t know what to say. How can I explain this to you…Why do I have to explain it to you? You said “Is it because I am too distant?” (For the love of god I wish I would remember the exact words you used but my emotions were so all over the place that I have a hard time remembering details. Anyway, it was something of that meaning). I said yes. Silence. I don’t remember what came next. At some point I said that “I came here to see you but we have barely spent time together” – you sad something along the lines that you thought I enjoyed myself, that I liked talking to the other people – I said yes sure, but that’s not why I’m here… DEAFENING SILENCE. I ask “Why did you ask me to come here” and there it was “Did I ask? Or did I make a proposition”. Again, my mind wasn’t able to record what exactly came next because my mind and body were focusing on not combusting into flames. You say sth like “I thought if I can share this place with you, it would be nice for you.” blabla. I point out that “your friends paid more attention to me and in fact Max probably knows more about me than you”. You say something like “but I listen. I hear every word. It’s not always needed to say things. Also I am embarrassed by my English. Sometimes I want to say something but then I don’t know how.”. I say bullshit. At some point you say “I will try my best tomorrow”. But I sense the insincerity in your words. You couldn’t care less. This is a bother to you. I am a bother to you right now. SILENCE. I don’t know how else to solve this painful situation other than pulling myself closer to you and making me hug you. Which you do. You hug me and stroke my hair. We have sex. Afterwards you give me some lemon & rosemary water and when I say that it’s very good you say “Well at least there is good sex and good lemon & rosemary water here”. I say “you’re an idiot”. You say “I know. Sometimes I know it too much.” I say that it’s not like by being nice to me you make me want to marry you. You don’t understand. I say “you behave like a 15 year old trying to act cool” I think you say “I understood that”. Silence. You kiss me on the forehead and say “Ciao” and turn away. I lie there. For hours. For hours my skin is burning, my heart is aching for your touch. But you don’t touch me. You go to the toilet and after you lie down next to me you again do not touch me and never before has something absent been so painful. I wait until sunrise. I quietly pack my things and leave. It is the only thing I could do.   I don’t leave a message. What would I say. There is no point. You don’t know me. And when I gave you a chance to get to know me, you said “thank you, but no thank you”. Enjoy fucking Juliette.

My mind races. I can’t stop thinking about all the things I could / should have said. But would it have mattered? Was it rude of me to leave in the middle of the night without a word? Yes. But at the same time it was the only reasonable thing to do. I couldn’t have bared some half-assed goodbye. I couldn’t have bared you not trying to convince me to stay. I couldn’t have bared the embarrassment of trying to explain to your friends why I’m leaving one day early.   Should I have sent a message? Left a note? I could have. But again I couldn’t have bared for you not to reply to it. There was nothing left to say.

[charlottestarchild]

I’m going to try to wake that person up.

Asked if there were periods of his life when he felt like he needed to be woken up, Bill Murray answers:  “Well, every day, really. I’m only connected for seconds and minutes a day sometimes. And sometimes you go, “Holy cow, I’ve been asleep for two day. I’ve been doing things but I’ve just been out.”“ I am asleep a lot. It’s like I’m constantly in a state of waiting to be woken up by something or someone.  What is it I’m waiting for? Who is it I’m waiting for? Myself?  How is it, that I make my life so dependent on other people instead of myself.  I’m seeing two guys right now. I’ve never done this in my life before. I never thought I would. But somehow I ended up in this situation. They are both very different people. One is 40, father of two, divorced, interesting personality but also carries quite a baggage with him. He’s kind, cuddly and shy at times.  The other one is my age, forever single, seems immature and has a bit of a “bad guy” kind of attraction to him. He’s cocky, playful and self-confident. I am not in love with either one. Yet it seems of utmost importance to me to make them fall in love with me. If they don’t fall in love with me, I consider myself a failure. Why is that? I am not in love with them and yet I don’t consider them a failure?  One would think that dating two guys gives you a total ego boost. And yet the contrary is the case. I find myself very conscious about the way I look. I know I have a great body (they tell me) but I hate my face. I know I am not classically pretty. I am interesting. But I’m not pretty in the sense that Natalie Portman is pretty. Or Alicia Vikander. If anything I’m more of a Tilda Swinton kind of person. I have a long nose, no chin, short hair. Pictures of me usually look horrible. I am more attractive in person.  So what I do is I use sex as a weapon. I use sex to make guys fall in love with me. I know I am good in bed (they tell me) and so I use that to my advantage. It has worked numerous times in the past... but why am I writing about this...? 

I am asleep. And I am looking for something that wakes me up. I think I’ve mentioned it before but much of my life always circles around guys somehow. And so it seems that after only 2 months of single life I find myself again awake at night, checking my phone WAY TO MANY times for messages from guys I am not even in love with.  Why is it so hard to just be myself. Focus on myself. Without the attachment of “I am the person who sees this guy right now”. 

What does it take to feel fulfilled in life without a guy by my side. Is it possible? Could I ever feel truly complete without some guy in my life? 

My job doesn’t seem to do the trick lately. I find myself sitting at work, staring into the void not finding motivation to get things done. Postponing tasks until the very last minute, only doing what’s really urgently needed.  Worth mentioning that I have a great job in a great company. Many people would give their right arm to be in my position. 

And yet here I am. Awake at night pondering about what to do with my life. How to fill the void. How to be MYSELF. How to figure out who I truly am.   

[charlottestarchild]

The Beauty of the Monster

I love Disney’s the Beauty and the Beast; I really enjoyed The Shape of Water and I have to confess that during a rather dull (sexual) period of my life 50 Shades of Grey provided me with butterflies in my stomach. 

However, recently I figured why I and plenty of other girls and woman enjoy these movies and somehow I find it rather unnerving. 

All of these movies share the fact, that they glamorise a trait in woman that we’d rather get rid of by now. What I’m talking about is the dream that looms in every little girl that one day it will find THE ONE. But more importantly they highlight the dream that “the one” will be mysterious with a dash of dangerous; And that he will turn from monster to prince only FOR HER!

Turning the monster into a prince is every little girls fantasy. Just that in real life, the monster comes in the form of the promiscuous high school quarterback, the married boss or one of many versions of Mr. Christian Grey. 

With the exception of Mr. Grey, the monsters in the movies are even repulsive to look at - and yet the girl starts to get these overwhelming feelings for it. 

Can you think of a movie where it’s the other way around? Where a guy falls for the ugly duckling that is on top of it hard to get? Or where a powerful, promiscuous business woman is suddenly turning into a soft, sweet housewife? I can’t. (Please do comment if you know a movie!) 

That is why I have an issue with these movies. 

What is it that they are teaching young girls? 

Especially the “dangerous” part in all these male figures. The Beast shouting at Belle and clawing it’s paws, the alien and dangerous appearance of the Amphibian Man who eats the neighbours cat and the obviously dangerously intimidating life style of Christian Grey.  Is it too far fetched to assume that girls who fall for the bully who beats up his peers at school and then continuous to beat them keep thinking “one day he will change for me!”? 

I had a conversation about this with a friend who said (especially about the case of “The Shape of Water”) that it’s much more about Elisa finding someone who doesn’t care about her “fault”. That she used to be alone and now she found someone who truly loves her.  It is true - Elisa, Belle, Anastasia - they are not your average, pretty blonde. They are wallflowers. Which in my opinion makes this even worse and dangerous a message. 

[charlottestarchild]

Brother

I wake up from my own moaning. I’m trenched in sweat. What happened? Another nightmare... 

My brother is gone. He’s not been seen by anyone for almost a week. But he’s a drug addict so that’s normal.  What’s not normal is that also my other brother seems to have disappeared with him. And my grand-ma. What a peculiar trio.  Where could they be? We need to look for them. It gets blurry.  It’s winter. It’s cold. I try to start the car. Something is holding me back. Mum and Dad are arguing. I need to call the police. “I have a missing person to report”.  They are asking questions. Why have we not called them earlier. Yes, why?  Mum kept saying he will show up again. But what about my other brother who doesn’t have a drug problem nor a habit of disappearing. And grand-ma. Why isn’t that alerting her. 

The police asks questions about my mum. I start to suspect.  Have I looked everywhere in the house? Could they be hiding somewhere? 

I go to the basement. Through the glass cover of the freezer I see my little brothers decapitated head. What happened? I take his head out of the freezer and run upstairs to confront my Mum.  Where is the rest of him? Where is my other brother and grand-ma? 

I wake up. 

Things in my subconscious that influenced this dream:  >> a joke I made to my friend about an initially awkward date "I’m glad you ended up in his bed and not his freezer”.  >> watching the first episode of “The Frankenstein Chronicles” where they show the dismembered body of a young kid  >> ???

[charlottestarchild]

I have a big one

Hi.  You have a nice smile. I like girls with dark, short hair. Here is a picture of my dick. 

When I went from an 8 year long relationship to becoming single again, I was quite excited to get into the dating scene again. I had been working out a lot for the past year, lost some weight and felt like I was in the best shape I had been in a long time. I felt good about myself and was ready for adventures. 

8 years back, Tinder et. al. didn’t exist. But since many of my friends / colleagues / acquaintances were talking about their experiences on various dating apps regularly, I was curious. 

So I set up a profile. 

I’m not a person who likes to be photographed. I feel that I look much better in real life than I do in pictures. So I had a very limited set of pictures to choose from for my new virtual dating self. But I thought I could probably still compete and get at least some matches. 

It didn’t take long though to understand that this new way of dating was not a positive development for human mankind. The shallowness of it is mind boggling. You put yourself out there and suddenly your self-worth is at the mercy of strangers. If you’re not model material you will feel rejected and worthless. People start talking to you and all of a sudden they stop. Because something better has come along. They don’t even bother letting you know. They just remove you or stop replying. It’s brutal.  Suddenly you find yourself checking the app every 10min if the person you have talked to last night has deleted you by now. Apps like happn even let you see how close of far away they are so you find yourself stalking them, thinking “oh, now s/he’s on the move”. And one morning you wake up and you think “what the fuck am I doing?!” 

And then there are people hiding behind fake profiles, luring you into a conversation full of compliments only to send you obscene messages and pictures moments later. Unasked.  Thank you very much. 

Delete. 

[charlottestarchild]

Remind me to tells you about a nightmare I had involving alien wolf creatures. Source of pic: https://goo.gl/images/p6pa78