This may feel like the death of me.

Wide awake.

Soul intact.

Body present.

This coveted place within me has been cracked wide open.

What came pouring out doesn’t look like love.

It sure as fuck doesn’t feel like love.

This love.

This is the kind of love that needs to die.

My soul has been waiting for me... to be ‘HERE enough’.

For me to be wise enough and unshakably women enough, so that I am not sucked out to sea.

So that I am not lost into every dark story that is not me.

I am treading amongst everything that is not love, that is not soul

It's a blueprint.

It's a lineage.

It's what I've known.

Head above the water, eyes gazed on the shore, I’ve got this.

Of course I have long feared love.

This love.

This is the toxic kind.

The conditioned kind.

The soul smothering kind.

Every guard.

Every protective mechanism that has been at work within me all of these years.

They quit.

They too, are tired.

I know something MUCH greater than this.

I've known since the beginning of time.

So yes.

Let this love die.

Recall the words I wrote to myself a year ago.

These words were birthed from me.... and clearly they are for me.

I am sure I have never fully loved in all of my lifetimes

I have long feared my unleashed passion.

I can hear myself prepare for disappointment, hurt, rejection.

If I could rewrite my story. To turn back my clock and hear:

“my dear sweet child;

You have a love inside of you that is rare, deep and dangerously beautiful.

Nothing to fear. Nothing to hide.

But do listen and choose wisely with whom you share this love with.

Give it to yourself, first and foremost.


Once you know this, wear this, live this and become this

This love.

This is the real kind.

So yeah.

I’ve wanted a cinderella story.

The Disney kind of love.

Maybe now, this is it.

Maybe this is my time to burn away the illusion of happily ever after

Rise within my own realness.

My rawness.

MY unshakable love affair with MYself

Unapologetically IN LOVE with EVERYTHING that is soul, that is love, that is life.

That passion that I have long feared and protected,

That passion, IS me.



And dangerously beautiful

~ Ange Arbuckle

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