I don’t want a man who will rescue me. I don’t want a 50 shades of asshole “Sir” to dominate me. I don’t want to be swept off my feet by Prince Charming with his empty promises and daydreams, sweet nothings and shallow missives.
I want a man to love me hard and tight, to grab my hand and my fleshy ass and say, “Baby, I’ve got you. I’ve got this.” A man who finds my journey as exciting and necessary as his own.
I want a man who gives me honesty because he respects me enough to know I can handle the truth, bitter as it may be.
I want a man who gives me admiration because he is blinded by my integrity and my character more than my beauty.
I want a man to share himself with me as an affirmation of my strength, not because he only sees my weaknesses.
I want a man who respects me as a woman so much that he knows to fuck me in a way that unleashes my own carnal desires, because only a man can give me that release, that relief, and I need it.
I am not so delicate and fair I can’t get in the game. I’m not so precious I can’t be pushed past my comfort zone. I’m not here to watch. I’m here to live.
I want a man who wants to make a life with me, not just bring me along for the ride. I want a Kitten Holiday.