OH, YOU SCANNED IT.
I LIKE YOU ALREADY.
Because you could've walked away.
Gone back to your meeting.
Your errands.
Your date.
Your perfectly reasonable fucking day.
BUT SOMETHING IN YOU WANTED TO KNOW.
Maybe it's the part of you that wants to wear the thing that's a little too much.
Say the thing that changes the temperature in the room.
Wear the thing that makes you feel a little dangerous.
Ask for more.
Laugh too fucking loud.
Dance before there's a dance floor.
The woman who occasionally slips past security and thinks:
Ohhhh. That would be fun.
Yeah.
HER.
She's not missing.
She's not gone.
AND I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO INTEREST
IN MAKING HER BEHAVE.
I want to see what happens when we give her ten fucking seconds.
Nothing to prove.
Nothing to decide.
Nowhere to fucking go.
Just ten seconds where the woman who's so fucking good at managing everything...
GETS TO ACTUALLY
ENJOY HERSELF.
Ready?
I FUCKING KNEW IT.
Because here's the thing about being a Good Girl.
After a while, nobody even has to tell you the rules.
YOU DO IT FOR THEM.
The want appears.
You make it reasonable.
The compliment lands.
You swat it away.
Your body says yes.
You ask whether you should.
Your body says no.
You hear yourself saying it's fine.
You start to say the true thing...
and make it nicer before it reaches your mouth.
That's not your personality.
THAT'S A PATTERN.
And you've had a fuckload of practice.
GOOD NEWS.
PATTERNS CAN BE INTERRUPTED.
And we're going to interrupt this one right fucking now.
Not by blowing up your life.
Not by recklessly doing every inappropriate thing that crosses your mind.
Jesus, you still have a frontal lobe.
I'm talking about something much more interesting.
FEELING WHAT IS TRUE
BEFORE YOU CLEAN IT UP.
Before the committee.
Before the explanation.
Before ‘but...’.
Before you behave.
YOU KNOW HER.
She shows up for half a second.
The song hits.
Your hips answer.
YOU HOLD STILL.
Someone looks at you
and you fucking feel it.
YOU LOOK AWAY.
You see the hot-pink sequin dress.
YOU BUY THE SENSIBLE BLACK SWEATER.
I want...
BUT.
I don't want...
IT'S FINE.
Fuck, that feels good...
THAT'S ENOUGH.
GOOD GIRL CLOCKS BACK IN.
THERE SHE WAS.
And there she went.
GET UP.
Yep.
Right now.
Put your phone down somewhere
you can still see it.
For the next ten seconds,
I want you to do one thing:
STOP BEHAVING.
Move your hips.
Shake your hair.
Make a sound.
Stretch like a fucking cat.
Touch yourself somewhere that feels good.
Take up more space than you need.
Whatever comes.
DON'T MAKE IT SEXY.
DON'T MAKE IT PRETTY.
DON'T MAKE IT ANYTHING.
Just let your body do one thing it wants to do
before you tell it how.
Ready?
STOP BEHAVING.
OH FUCK.
THERE SHE IS.
You didn't become someone else.
You didn't change your life.
YOU STOPPED BEHAVING
FOR TEN FUCKING SECONDS.
And something in you got louder.
Maybe it was desire.
Pleasure.
Movement.
Truth.
Heat.
A tiny pulse of more.
THAT'S WHAT I'M
INTERESTED IN.
Not making you less intelligent.
Less responsible.
Less discerning.
MORE FUCKING ALIVE.
HI. I'M MARTA.
I HELP WOMEN TURN
THE VOLUME BACK UP.
Because you can get extraordinarily fucking good at being good.
Good mother.
Good partner.
Good daughter.
Good friend.
Good employee.
Good fucking sport.
Until you're so beautifully contained
you can barely hear yourself underneath it.
I WANT TO HEAR HER.
The wanting one.
The receiving one.
The loud one.
The tender one.
The turned-on one.
The one who says no.
The one who says FUCK YES.
THE WILDLY FUCKING
ALIVE ONE.
What you just did?
That was ten seconds.
And darling...
THAT WAS THE FIRST DARE.
Want the next one?
WELL, SHIT.
Now we're in this together.
Your next dare is headed to your inbox.
And no, I'm not going to tell you to quit your job, leave your marriage, move to Bali, manifest a yacht, or become a woman who says “yummy” about everything.
I'm going to ask you to do something much more dangerous.
PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT
YOU ACTUALLY WANT.
Go live your life.
I'll meet you in your inbox.
And if you're nosy...
COME SPY ON ME ON INSTAGRAM →