Last night an ally of mine suggested I don’t share my photos on FB. “Allow people to imagine what a Feral Female does in France. Create their own pictures.” And I understood the logic. The marketing angle.
But felt a giant NO.
One thing I love about French movies, is that they are not filled with supermodels. You fall in love with the man with the odd nose, or the plump woman who is ravishing in her warmth. The story reveals their beauty until you can see them.
A few days ago I wrote:
“We walked holding hands
The rats of Marseille parting for us
Scurrying under trash bins and under doors
To make way for two almost strangers
Surrending to a greater practice of love.”
Without knowing me, what would you envision? Two tall, fit, well-coiffed people. The woman is wearing high heels and is flawlessly made up. The man is rugged but also looks like he has a stylist. These are the chosen ones. The people worthy of joy and pleasure.
But really? What happened was way better.
I had a second date with a man who I met off of Tinder in Spain. This beautiful man drove 6 hours, rented an Airbnb for himself, and then brought wine, cheese, and sausage from the Alps to share with me. He is learning his fourth language…English. So we spoke in slow and halting sentences with a genuine desire to know one another.
At 4am, after kissing a man with razor-like stubble for 8 hours, my nose was a grated bright red. My eyeliner? A hazy smeared black. And my hair had its own life.
Still, I heard about 5 times on that walk home how beautiful I was. His openhearted appreciation and integrated way of seeing, made him more exquisite to me.
Desire is felt. We show up for it. We say yes.
I am the almost naked woman crawling across a table, hungry. I am the woman who slid/fell down a mountain of huge rocks while laughing. And tonight I’m the woman watching movies with my cat.
I am not representing a fantasy. Or a “lifestyle” choice. I am welcoming you to unravel what’s choking you into submission. To take the pulse of your deeper hunger. So, if you want to imagine what a Feral Female does in France? Go. And create your story there. These are my photos. Can’t wait to see yours.