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BellaRosa’s Spring Serenade

I have to be able to capture this feeling. Elation. Joy. Gratitude. Pleasure. Freedom. Desire. Cosmic Awareness.

It’s been so long, friends since I last felt this joyful in myself. Confident and self-assured. Devoid of doubt for my purpose or of my voice. Absent are the rules that once restricted me. My body is empty of the worry that always consumes it and holds it hostage. My mind is free of the fear that accompanies my word. My heart so strong and self-possessed.


See, a few days ago, something broke open from within. I liken it to a hatched egg, but it was more like breaking free of a cocoon after nearly 10 years. It was a catharsis that I was convinced would never come.

February 2006 was a very different time for me and a very different version of me. A foolish and overwhelmed version of me. I always thought that the events of that year were designed to take me down a peg or two. Indeed, I had grown too full of myself and didn’t have the maturity to really see the 10 steps ahead that I needed to, so very caught up in the everyday poly drama, the attention, the successes.

But now I look back on that time in my life as resetting my path, resetting my calling, breaking down the towers that I had built for myself because they were built on top of shifting sands. Everything had to crash down for me to start over again.

Starting over sucks.

An inelegant and crass way to sum up the otherwise beautiful process of transformation. But as you go through it, the pain, the doubt, the impatience all wears you down until you don’t think there’s any “you” left at all. It breaks apart your identity to its smallest parts, examining it, discarding the corrupted and hurt bits.

The most painful part is letting go of the expectations you once had for yourself, the image you once had of yourself. We become attached to that image, not because it’s great or even accurate, but because it’s safe. That image we hold of ourselves is safe and familiar. And most of all it’s easy. It’s so damn easy in fact that we never think about changing it until something, like life, threatens to take away that part of our identity.

TowerThese crises of identity can happen for any reason and at any time. And while I paid a lot of lip service to the need for us to periodically confront these facets of self. I likened it to the Tower from Tarot. You spend your life building up this tower of self, the bricks and materials made of the knowledge, wisdom, beliefs and memories we had accumulated during our lifetime. This tower houses not just us, but everything that makes us special, unique and different. But then an event, a person, a cascade effect of choices comes in and knocks it all down, like a wrecking ball. Devastation and despair ensues. Chaos reigns. To the point that when it comes up in a reading, I’ve seen experienced tarot readers get scared.

But I had always thought that if I was proactive and took the opportunity to examine the bricks and tear apart my own tower I could avoid the headache and the mess that would have otherwise caught me off guard. I was going to be smarter than everyone else!

Until it happened to me. It wasn’t just being drugged, being outed, losing my job, or gaining a lot of weight. It was the impact on my family. It was the depression. It was the heartache and doubt. I thought life couldn’t get any lower. But then my spiritual husband and I broke apart for reasons that seemed important at the time but don’t make any sense to me now. But the worst of it started 4  years ago when my oldest son ran away. The events of that year, 2012, changed my life and broke me down even further than I thought I could be. If I had cracked, broken but mostly whole bricks before, I had dust falling through my hands afterward.

And there was no part of my identity that didn’t have to be rebuilt. Yes, I was still polyamorous, but it was a different poly that I had started with. Yes, I was still a mother, but what kind of mother would I be now? No, I was no longer Catholic, but what did my sense of faith look like now?

The question when it all falls apart, is what will I build in its place? And ordinarily I would turn to some sense of higher consciousness to access the answers I needed, but not this time. That was the brick that had been shattered and shamed, blamed and broken beyond all others. No guidance. No light. No purpose. Nothing.

I cocooned myself away from the world. Only minimally engaging with the people I like or admire.

Until Now

496db3dc298df3ca3217bd786e9d7c59Here I am, free once again. Free from a few of the beliefs that inhabited the stones and bricks of my tower. Values like sacrifice at all costs. Habits like pernicious negativity. Beliefs like being replaceable in people’s lives. So much has changed. And yet it feels entirely authentic and natural.

I can’t get over the feeling that the universe conspired this break down to reveal the wise, wild, vibrant woman bursting to come forth. No longer the girl mourning the loss of her youth, but the wholly invested queen ready to rule her life.  I am discovering the dominant side of my switchiness. I am embracing the duality of my attractions to women and men. I know my limits but stretch my wings to try to overcome them. I am savoring the increase in attention from younger men.I am learning more about how to relax and just be. I love the grey in my hair, the wrinkles emerging under my eyes. I can feel the world in its wholeness again.

I feel renewed.

Welcome to Spring. My spring.





The Awakened Shall Trust

This morning I participated in an online “oneness” meditation with hundreds of other people from around the country.  While others had this immense feeling of well, oneness, and awakening, I felt something that has been virtually inaccessible to me for the past several years: my own light.  I get glimpses of it from time to time, it shines through brightly only to fade silently into the twilight of my own fears and anxieties. While I have been a healer to others over the years, able to see the invisible energy centers twirling and dancing within, I’ve never been able to see my own.  Until the meditation today. 

Today I sat in the silence of my own truth and was able to see why I’ve grown so distant from myself, why it has been so hard for me to trust…not just others, but in particular myself and my own skills.  Here is what I saw:  Read the rest of this entry

A Blessing for 2012

I know some will panic about this year. Not me. Not today.

Today I am building miracles.
I am creating joy.
I am savoring the goodness.

Today I am expressing the calm.
I am loosing the wild woman.
I am approving the chaos.

Today I am mourning the silence.
I am praising the release.
I am cherishing the gratitude.

Today I am spending my energy on the blessings yet to come. I am walking in gratitude and joy for the years spent in Love. I am honoring the old and renewing my faith in the new I am proud and whole. Mighty and assured. I am grateful for all that has been and all that is still yet to come. I am open and unafraid of receiving the blessings of the future for I know I am protected. I am alive. Today I am free to live in the truth and beauty of bliss. I live with integrity as I challenge my old beliefs. I am growing and becoming wiser with each step I take.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for listening. Thank you for your thoughts and commentary. I look forward to spending this new year with you!

The Real Pueblo Pride

..Going home was a huge thing for me.  And even though I’ve been struggling with my sexuality for the past few weeks/months/years, it was a weekend that held significance and gravity for me.

Some people have their fun making jokes of how small the town is (it’s really not) and how they think it’s not racially diverse (48% of Pueblo is Hispanic).  It is also overwhelmingly Democratic and so the town cares about issues like gay rights, worker’s rights and equality, but like most cities has struggled to enact policies and laws that truly reflect these values and predictably the rest of its citizens still have a lot of catching up to do in their interpersonal dealings.

It is because of those values that I felt I needed to go home and attend Pride.  The parade wasn’t long.  Only 4 blocks.  It wasn’t well attended…most of the people who want to be seen supporting gay pride were in the parade itself.  But the fact that there was a pride parade at all, an afternoon festival, performances and an organization behind it all is remarkable in and of itself.  Walking down the street in front of the building where my husband proposed to me, nearby my old workplace and close to my friends and family was significant.  So much history.  So much of myself there. Read the rest of this entry

Solution: Reconstruct the Reality

A few nights ago I wrote about 7 arousing images and what about them bothered me.  Because I was writing it in the early AM, I sort of spiraled onto a tangent.  So, I’m going to edit that post and get to the point I had really wanted to make. The old post is in blue.  New comments in black.

There’s something that happens to a woman after a certain age.  She has to shed her skin and become a new woman.  Reinvent herself.  So many think that reinventing should mean “re-claiming”.   I did.  That’s what I was trying to do for such a long time.  I was trying to reclaim myself.  Reclaim the sexuality that I had not just flaunted but frankly earned through all those years.  But instead, I am trying to keep the door open a redesign, a reinvention.  But in order to do that I have to lose that part of myself.  I have to shed that skin.

I really do.  For the longest time my identity was of this sexually confident woman, but yet someone who wasn’t entirely secure with that confidence (oxymoron anyone?) I questioned it more often than not, allowing phrases like “promiscuity equals low self-esteem” to permeate my consciousness.  The first big change to my sexual identity happened when my husband and I decided to become poly.  The second big change happened after I was outed.  And here were are in the third wave of change.  Change isn’t scary, it isn’t bad.  However, what is scary is to “change” only to realize you’re exactly where you once were…and it’s uncomfortable and tight and massively unhelpful. Read the rest of this entry


I made a vow when I started this blog that I wouldn’t discuss my personal life here very often.  Or at least if I did, it wouldn’t be in grand amounts of detail.  I’ve been outed before.  It’s not fun.  And some of the people I’m involved with would also consider it, not quite so fun to be outed.

But one thing this past weekend is honestly too big to hold back on.  Here I am three years after the fact, facing a return to my spiritual husband.   It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.  We broke up two years ago…but in my mind it was really three.  It was three years ago our relationship started to seriously deteriorate.  As that was happening, I was adding two new relationships to my life: one had been in the wings for quite some time and the other was accelerated on a timeline I couldn’t foresee.  And my spiritual husband and I both were caught up in the waves of the latter.  Crashing, crushing waves that I had not encountered with anyone other than this spiritual husband.  Initially he was supportive of all those relationships, but then the relationships (both local) were quickly overshadowing what he and I held together. There were a lot of other factors at play, not the least of which was our own pride and resentment brewing under the surface.  But the events of July 2008 forever changed the rules of the game and set us on a path that only served to push us away from each other.

And the wedge of resentment was so very strong.  Walls went up quicker than either of us had the power to eliminate (and we are both quite skilled at it).  For the first time in a long time, when we talked we didn’t listen because we both insisted that the other wasn’t hearing us.  So we just talked louder.  And more forcefully.  And louder still.


Until we could hear nothing but the hollow echo of our own emptiness.

I may never fully comprehend what happened back then. I know that I went through a massive emotional and spiritual reboot.  And I know that I couldn’t have done that if he and I had still been together.  Even as things shifted and changed, we were holding true to these perverse assumptions we had about each other.  You know the ones, the ones where the “other” is actually the villain.  This is not what we believed in.  And yet it happened.

It happened because it needed to happen.  I’m a big believer in “everything has a purpose” and this was no different.  Both of us have changed significantly over the years, without much involvement from the other party at least.  So when he announced he and his kids and girlfriend would be coming to town, I had to rely pretty extensively on what I’ve developed in myself over the past three years.  I was nervous and terrified and radically honest with myself about what I could handle and what I couldn’t.

…you know how people tell you emphatically to never, ever get back together with your ex?

Yeah, I ignored that advice and I’m glad I did.

Because the part where we got to talk without kids, without responsibilities weighing us down was amazing.  It was honest and sincere.  We were both holding a little back, but we recognized it for what it was and moved onward with an initial amount of trust.

And when we kissed, the cosmic forces seem to shine their approval.  Was it really a break-up if we both still loved each other that immensely?  Was it really a break if we both had hurt each other that much?  All I know is in those magic hours under moonlight and stars, we remembered who we really are together.  All the immense pleasures and joys we bring to each other’s lives and how deeply and immediately we feel that connection.

I don’t have words for what we are and I’m reluctant to name any, particularly at this stage.  All I know is that I felt like a part of my soul snapped back into place and I feel inspired and alive again.  We will have to create new images, new ideas to truly describe where we are now and who we are to each other.

… but Love fits.  Always has and no matter what we endure alone or apart it always will.

A Loose Woman Speaks

A Loose Woman Speaks

You know me. You always find me at the crossroads. Smoldering sweetness. Transient memory. Dark benevolence.

I have burned with you in the fires; I have resurrected you from the despair. I’ve held your hand in the depths of your darkness. I’ve given you light to lift you. I’ve been here each time you’ve prayed out loud or cried silently.

Sweet and bold. Powerful and quiet. I will never leave you, my Love.

Blissful and melancholy. Radiant and cursed.  Sensual and familiar. Rough and blessed. Vibrant and smooth. I embrace your duality and all the space in between.

Strike at the soul and be consumed within these flames.

Welcome to the online

I found my blogger account.  It’s amazing isn’t it?  And now that I’ve found it, I’ve decided to delete it.  When I started it, I was looking for a space other than LiveJournal to post my thoughts.  LiveJournal had become dangerous for me because it had been used to out to me to my work colleagues.  That in itself wouldn’t have been bad except for the fact that I had a job that depended on maintaining an austere, unassailable reputation.  And well, I was not as unassailable as I thought.  So I tried out a new home.  Found it to be not as accessible as I wanted it to be and have thus landed here in WordPress land.

So, here is the initial post from that Blogger attempt (March 2007). I called myself the Love Priestess…which is still a title that works for me and I may use it from time to time here.

Welcome back, Bella

You know, I’m not a fan of this space all that much. Blogspot used to be just a place I could read about sex, politics, sex, news, sex, parenting, sex, philosphy, relationships and oh yes, sex. It was a nice little place for me to be without causing too much of a ruckus.

Not so much anymore. There are people who look in on you from time to time, see if there’s anything they can use against you. See whether you’re perverted enough to post something real. See whether you’re sick enough to enjoy seeing a naked body now and then or even wrap your eyes around a tasty piece of erotica. And oh please, let’s not forget that they absolutely must know if you’ve ever had a dirty though to put into words. It’s dangerous.

So, I’ve decided that this space contains whatever it is it going to contain.

I’m a real live woman.
A mother. 
A lover of many.
A connosieur of the the deviant abundance out there.

Yes, I enjoy sex. So should you.
Yes, I have a brain that can analyze social and political problems.
Yes, I read and am captivated by the expression of self through words.

No, I’m not sick.
No, I’m not perverted.
No, I’m not here to corrupt your children…in fact, I don’t want your children anywhere near this space..

I’m just here. And I’m going to say what I’m going to say. And if that makes me dangerous…well, then that is a badge I will proudly wear.

Dangerous ideas.
Dangerous thoughts.
Dangerous lessons.
Dangerous actions.
Dangerous life.

A dangerous beauty.

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