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I’m not your woman because I won’t surrender to your ideas of who I should be.
Instead, I’ll show you who I am, ever so gently peeling back the layers of what brings me pleasure—of what my boundaries are, of what lights my heart on fire, of what I won’t tolerate.
I’m not your woman because I won’t listen mindlessly to your complaints or beliefs that life should be this way or that way. Instead, I’ll listen until you run out of things to say, then proceed to question and prod every statement you made—every hardwired belief you have and every complaint you felt needed to be heard. I won’t leave your side until we agree to disagree, even if it takes years.
I’m not your woman because I won’t let you play games with me—tugging me along so that you’re always in the driver’s seat thinking you are in control. Instead, I’ll race you to the finish line of feelings. I’ll make you realize that the games you want to play are just for attention. It’s realness you crave, and I’ll give you realness—more realness than reality and watch as your heart bursts open with love.
I’m not your woman because I won’t allow you to use me for your own pleasure, even if it feels so damn good. Instead, I’ll intertwine my body with yours, lock eyes with you, and weave my energy with yours until we both rise together. It’s us, not just you or me.
I’m not your woman because you want me to be.
Stop assuming. Stop pretending like you can own me through your actions. Ask.
And I’ll say yes because it’s my choice. And I’ll choose you every time.