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I am watching the wall of shame built around my heart and mind collapse in real time.
It is fascinating.
I never thought that sending some nudes to a guy and getting a tattoo on my chest would crack it open, but honestly, I love it.
My creative block is over.
I don’t feel ashamed to be weird. To be dark as fuck.
I don’t feel ashamed to step on any stupid shit that doesn’t make sense anymore.
And the most important thing is: I don’t want my daughter to grow up with the same shame that held me back all my life.
Fuck it.
Fuck the shame and social expectations.
I am taking a baseball bat to all the bullshit and destroying it. And I won’t be nice about it. Not at all.
I won’t wrap the bullshit in cellophane just so insecure men feel a bit less intimidated.
Because I won’t let my daughter grow up with the fucking shame I did. Fuck it all. And if I have to burn everything down for it — I swear I will.
My nice girl era is absolutely over, and it will never come back.
I want to watch Raccoon in the Rabbit Hole performed in a retirement home and see the reactions.
And in every single men’s club.
And I absolutely refuse to feel ashamed of it.