For years I thought desire belonged to other women.
The confident ones.
The fearless ones.
The women who walked into a room knowing exactly who they were.
I watched them from across coffee shops.
Across bookstores.
Across dimly lit bars where jazz drifted through cigarette-colored light.
I wondered what it felt like to own the room instead of apologizing for standing in it.
Then one night I bought a pair of black satin gloves I had absolutely no reason to own.
I slipped them on in front of my bedroom mirror.
Something changed.
Not because I suddenly became fearless...
Because I finally stopped waiting to be.
Burlesque taught me something no one else ever had.
Confidence isn't what you wear before you step into the spotlight.
It's what grows while you're standing there.
This little corner of the internet is where I leave pieces of myself.
Some are photographs.
Some are poems.
Some are stories.
Some...
Are probably confessions disguised as fiction.
Either way...
I'm glad you found me.
Pull up a chair.
Stay awhile.
—I think we're going to have some fun together.
♡
This morning's journal continues somewhere a little more private...
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