Your Marriage, Your Motherhood, Your Sensuality—You Don’t Have to Choose

I read something recently that hit deep.

It was a post about how most people are terrified of being seen as inconsistent—of breaking out of the neat little box the world has put them in.

They spend their lives fighting their own contradictions, shoving inconvenient truths into the shadows just to maintain a clean, predictable identity.

And when they see someone living freely, unapologetically, refusing to be boxed in, it stirs something in them. Sometimes it’s admiration. Other times, it’s judgment, projection—even rage.

Because the one embracing all the wild, contradictory parts of herself forces those watching her to reckon with the parts of themselves they’ve buried.

I know this firsthand. All sides of it, actually.

✔️ I’ve done the self-policing—shrinking myself to uphold a “safe” identity, contorting to maintain belonging.

✔️ I’ve also policed and judged others—when their freedom made me uncomfortable. When I didn’t yet have the space or maturity to sit with that discomfort and what it was trying to tell me about **myself.**

✔️ I remember resenting the women who owned themselves so effortlessly.

Turns out, what I resented was my own disowned longing.

Once I saw that, I couldn’t unsee it.

When I fell in love with pole dancing and erotic movement, it wasn’t just a new way of moving. It was a homecoming.

A deep, cellular-level reclamation of my sensuality, pleasure, and erotic power.

At the same time, my marriage transformed.

My husband and I started having the most radically honest conversations about our desires, longings, and the ways we had unknowingly dimmed ourselves in the name of connection.

We learned how to restore polarity. How to see each other clearly again. How to be on the same team in a way that bled into every aspect of our lives—from how we manage money to how we parent.

We burned our old marriage to the ground. Then built a new one.

One that held us in safety AND set us free.

And yet… there are people who struggle with this version of us—especially this version of ME.

Family. Friends. Strangers. Some people are deeply uncomfortable with the way I move, with the way I own my sensuality; with the fact that I’m a mother who dances the way I do, teaches what I teach, and (yes) even has a promotional bookmark with a discount code that reads cunt (one of my personal favorites—because some words deserve to be snatched back and worn like a pearl necklace).

I’ve had people ask:

• “What do your kids think?”

• “Aren’t you worried about how people see you?”

• “Shouldn’t you tone it down?”

• “Do you want to put some clothes on?”

And I get it. I really do.

But here’s the thing:

I am done making myself smaller for the comfort of others.

I am done answering to anyone else’s expectations of what a wife, mother, and woman should be.

I am done letting shame or fear dictate how much of myself I get to express.

Because I know this truth in my bones:

You don't have to choose, and you definitely don't have to apologize for NOT CHOOSING.

When a woman stops apologizing for herself, everything around her restructures. Her marriage, her parenting, her work, her friendships—the way she moves through the world.

I want that for every single woman who steps into Slow & Wild.

I KNOW you’ve felt the pressure to be consistent—to make sense to other people, to be just one thing.

Consider this your permission slip to take that pressure right the fuck off.

You are allowed to be a devoted mother AND deeply erotic.

You are allowed to be a grounded, responsible, nurturing wife AND a woman who owns her sensuality unapologetically.

You are allowed to live in your full, integrated truth—even if it makes other people uncomfortable.

Because then, your very existence disrupts the illusion that women must choose.

You weren’t meant to contort yourself into their mold so they could sleep better at night.

You came here to break the mold.

And when you outgrow the next one, you’ll shatter that too.