Will you still love me if I'm no longer with my man, who you've grown to admire?
Will you still love me when I have kids, or not?
Will you still love me when I up and join a commune, with multi-generational social progressives?
Will you still love me when I have friends that smoke weed, do ecstasy recreationally, and get drunk off their ass?
Will you still love me when I swear?
Will you still love me when I eat marijuana cookies?
Will you still love me when I stop wearing pants, and wear long flowy gowns like the hare krishnas or loin cloths like Gandhi?
Will you still love me when I marry a second husband at the same time?
Will you still love me when I'm a part of the adult industry?
Will you still love me when I'm homeless?
Will you still love me with my PhD?
Will you still love me when I cage fight?
Will you still love me when you see nude art in my home?
Will you still love me as an author of all sorts of subjects?
Will you still love me when I don't always tread cautiously, when I let you see all of me?
Will you still love me when I change, just like you might change?
It's your right to decide what works best for you.
Just like me.
There is no shaming.
I'm letting go of judgement.
Trying.
And finding relief.
Opening.
