Marvelus

I will not teach my daughter that the price of safety is making herself smaller.

I won’t tell her to want less.
Trust less.
Explore less.
Be less s*xual.
Take up less fu***ng space in her own life.

Because there is no set of rules a woman can follow perfectly enough to guarantee that nobody will ever hurt her.

What I will tell her is that her body belongs to her the whole fu***ng time.

That yes can become no.
That curiosity is not a contract.
That wanting to be desired doesn’t mean you owe anyone access to you.
That wanting the first thing doesn’t mean you wanted everything that came after it.
That she doesn’t need a sufficiently impressive reason to stop.

And maybe most importantly:
If something ever happens that she doesn’t know how to understand, she does not have to figure it out before she comes to me.

She doesn’t have to make the story make sense.
She doesn’t have to explain why she went there. Why she trusted them. Why she drank. Why she stayed. Why she froze. Why she acted normal afterward. Why she didn’t understand immediately.

She doesn’t have to convince me that she did everything right.
She can just come home.

I spend most of my life talking to women about becoming more free.
I want that freedom for our daughters, too.

Not freedom because we’ve somehow taught them to navigate every dangerous situation perfectly.

Freedom because they know that their wanting belongs to them.
Their no belongs to them.
Their confusion belongs to them.
Their changing mind belongs to them.

And none of it makes them less worthy of being believed, protected, loved, or fu***ng free.

I don’t think “I stopped caring what people think” is always the end of the story.

Because maybe you genuinely don’t need everybody to like you anymore.

But maybe you still need them to believe you’re strong.
Or competent.
Successful.
Sexy.
Easygoing.
Independent.
A good mother.
The woman who always has her s**t together.

And none of those women are fake.

The interesting part is what happens when one true part of you becomes the only part you’re willing to let anybody see.

So this is the question that’s been following me around all week:
Who are you still working really fu***ng hard to be?

And the one I might like even better:
What doesn’t she let you be?

Tell me. I have a feeling there’s a lot underneath this one.

“I want you” becomes “haha, maybe.”

“I would love that” becomes “if it works for everyone.”

“Please keep going” becomes silence, because suddenly you’re worried you’re asking for too much.

You can keep choosing what to share and with whom. But notice when you edit the true sentence before anyone has had a chance to meet you in it.

Today’s tiny experiment: let one honest, low-stakes sentence leave your mouth without the cleanup crew following it.

What sentence do you tend to soften?

Somewhere between “I deserve pleasure” and actually letting yourself have it, a tiny manager with a clipboard shows up.

She would like an update on how long this is taking, whether anyone is inconvenienced, and when you plan to get back to being useful.

Tell her to take five.

The next time something feels good, catch the urge to move on before the feeling has even reached you. Stay one breath longer.

That is a very small moment. It can change the whole damn room.

P.S. If you want to know when the next F**K YES room opens, the First to Know list is in my bio. We begin January 2027.

Wear the dress if you want.
Wear the leggings if you want.

I’m far more interested in what happens when you stop watching yourself have an experience and actually let yourself have one.

Tomorrow: OH F**K, THERE SHE IS.
Thursday, September 17.
1:00–2:30 p.m. Eastern.
Live on Zoom.
$97.

Music, movement, breath, sound, sensation.
Plan for camera-on participation, with the freedom to step off camera whenever you need to.

Can’t attend live?
Registration includes replay access for 72 hours after the replay email is sent. The replay will be delivered within 24 hours of the activation.

Registration closes tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. Eastern.

Save your seat through the link in my bio 👆

Let’s give that responsive, curious, hungry part of you some actual time.

Last call.

If you’ve read every post this week and told yourself “later,” I want you to notice that. That’s the exact pattern we’re going to be talking about Thursday afternoon.

You don’t need more time to decide.
You need to stop asking your calendar for permission your body already gave you.

Thursday. Ninety minutes. One room.

🔗in bio. Or Comment ‘YES PLEASE’ if you want the link DM’d to you directly.

You can feel the quality of a room in the first five seconds after you say:
“I’ve been thinking about something...”

In one room, everybody rushes to make the thought safe.

In another, a woman looks you directly in the eye and says, “Tell me everything.”

Your body knows the difference.

This is not about surrounding yourself with people who clap while you drive off a cliff.

It is about having women in your life who can distinguish danger from expansion.

Women who can hear a desire without immediately shrinking it into something more convenient for the group chat.

Women who remember that you are allowed to surprise them.

Women who want the full story, including the part where your voice changes and your hands get involved.

Send this to the woman who knows how to lean forward.