Hello, friends! If you read this blog regularly, maybe you’ve noticed I haven’t been posting at my usual clip lately. I thought I’d update you on why that is, and what I’ve been up to.
The main thing is that I recently got a new gig reporting on sex for MEL Magazine, one of my all-time favorite publications. I’ve been reading and loving their stuff for at least 6-7 years, so it’s delightful that I get to write for them now! Here’s a highlight reel of some of my favorite pieces I’ve written for them over the past few months (you can peruse my full archives by clicking here):
No Pain, No Gain (a conversation about masochism with Hurts So Good author Leigh Cowart)
In addition to that, I’m still writing my weekly newsletter containing intimate essays and thoughts on sex and love, Sub Missives, for premium subscribers (it’s 5 bucks a month or 50 bucks a year). Some recent faves:
I’m also still doing my “A Song A Week” challenge, writing and recording one new song every week for the duration of 2022. Here are some of my favorites lately:
I’ll still be posting on this blog once in a while – I’m definitely not shutting it down or anything! But with all these projects on my plate, the blog is no longer my top priority, so I thought I’d let you know what else I’m up to so you can check out my other work if you’re so inclined.
Love always, and thank you for the support! 💖 -Kate
All images in this post are courtesy of Tazia from Higher Self Tarot
When people ask me whether I “believe in tarot,” I don’t really know what to say. I’ve gotten tarot readings at some of the most critical times in my life, times that felt like a crossroads toward different potential versions of my future, and the cards – or, more accurately, the people reading the cards – have given me advice that shaped how I moved through my life’s next chapter.
For instance, in 2016, I sought counsel from a tarot-reading acquaintance of mine because I had gone through multiple romantic disappointments in a row: unrequited love, rejection, revelations of a partner’s abusive tendencies. I felt off-kilter and like I was attracting these terrible experiences into my life through something I was doing, or not doing. The reading told me pretty decisively that I needed to speak up more assertively about my boundaries and expectations in relationships going forward, and to be more guarded rather than letting people in right away. That advice has served me well ever since.
A year later, I sought another reading from the same person because I wanted some guidance with regards to my sex life. The cards declared that I should pay more attention to the wisdom of my body when making sexual decisions – i.e. if someone gives you a bad feeling, it’s probably for a reason – and that I should be more intentional in the way I approached dating. Again, this advice was exactly what I needed to hear and helped me turn my life around. I met my now-spouse later that year, by which time I had gotten much better at trusting my gut feelings about people and pursuing the people I liked with deliberate intention.
Obviously, tarot has been pretty transformative for me in how it’s allowed me to reflect on my own patterns – regardless of whether or not the cards actually have mystical properties like some people say (I really don’t know!). So I was delighted to get a reading earlier this week from Tazia Kuhani of Higher Self Tarot, and I wanted to write about it here.
I’m going through kind of a tough time lately, both personally and professionally. On a personal level, my mental health has been really tumultuous as I’ve been working through my traumas in therapy and getting actively confronted by triggers on a regular basis. Professionally speaking, I started a new gig recently that is taking up most of my time, so I’m struggling to balance my energy levels appropriately – and I’m having a lot of impostor syndrome about whether I “deserve” such prestigious bylines, even though I’ve worked for over ten years to get here. Needless to say, it felt like a good time to ask for some wisdom from a tarot pro!
I explained these issues to Tazia when she asked me what I wanted our reading to focus on, and we decided we’d do one short reading for my work life and one for my personal life.
The work-focused reading validated some things I already knew but hadn’t quite articulated to myself: that the expectations my editors have of me are high, but that I am skilled enough to meet or exceed them; that there might be an annoying adjustment period while I get used to a different work schedule and workload; and that doing my work with integrity and passion is my best route forward.
I found this astonishing because I hadn’t actually told Tazia anything about my new job or the things about it that I’ve been struggling with, but her interpretations of the cards she pulled were spot-on nonetheless. Tarot is wild!
As for the personal reading – Tazia pulled 3 cards that identified problems I’m dealing with, and 3 more cards that contained some advice for those problems. The actual issues I wanted advice on are too vulnerable and fresh for me to feel comfy sharing them here, but again, I was blown away by how accurate and specific the reading was. As someone who’s pulled tarot cards for myself as well as gotten professional readings, I can say that paying a professional has always been worthwhile for me. The cards alone can give me some information, or at least help me reflect more clearly and deliberately on the struggles I’m facing – but when an experienced pro can interpret the cards for you, especially a pro who knows a bit about you and your life, it’s a game-changer.
At the end of the reading, Tazia asked if there was anything I wanted clarification on. We had touched on my work in trauma therapy at one point in the personal reading, and I asked for some additional advice on how to move forward in the therapeutic process without feeling stuck or stalled out.
Tazia pulled two additional cards for me, both of which were meant to be advice on my trauma therapy process. The first one was The Fool, which she said meant that I should approach therapy as if I know nothing and am learning it all afresh. The Fool encourages us to listen and open up to what we don’t know, even if it seems foreign or strange. This card was telling me to become a student of my own trauma rather than trying to beat it into submission or speed through the process.
The second card she pulled was the Queen of Cups. Tazia said this card spoke to the role of creativity in my healing process – that I should lean into art-making, whether that be music, writing, or anything else, as a route through which to unpack my trauma.
Both of these cards felt super resonant and relevant to me, and gave me the little push I needed to feel like working through this stuff is still worthwhile. As my therapist told me when we began trauma therapy together two years ago, typically it gets harder before it gets easier, because you’re uncovering some old, raw stuff and it can be painful and destabilizing. But the important thing is to be patient with yourself and to keep going – which, of course, is easier said than done. This tarot reading helped me feel, more than ever, like that’s the right thing to do, even when it feels incredibly challenging.
If you want to book a reading with Tazia for yourself – and I would highly recommend you do so if there’s any situation in your life right now that you could use some guidance on – you can click this link to learn more. Tazia’s offering 5% off her already wildly reasonable prices for Girly Juice readers when you use the code “GIRLY” – go go go!
Does anyone else remember when butterflies were all the rage in the sex toy industry, circa 2008-2009? First there were rabbits; then, suddenly, everyone was talking about butterflies.
The main one I remember was a wearable, remote-control butterfly-shaped vibrator that my friend-with-benefits owned around that time, but there were also dual-stimulation vibes and even cock rings made to look like butterflies. Not really sure what made this particular insect a sudden sex symbol. I do know that Jason Mraz has a whole song where he keeps referring to a vulva as a butterfly, though, and that my own vulva kinda resembles one when my labia are spread apart, so maybe that has something to do with it…
Anyway, today I’m reviewing the Bombex Butterfly Desire Vibe Pro, another beautiful butterfly-shaped product. It’s a dual-stimulation toy: the outer portion (the “butterfly” itself) uses pressure-wave technology to stimulate your clit, while the inner arm, when inserted vaginally, transmits vibration into your G-spot. Let’s talk about some of the benefits and drawbacks of this little bug…
Things I like about this toy:
The vibration of the internal arm is decently rumbly and strong, even on the first setting. There are three steady speeds and I’ve gotten off on the first one before, which is pretty impressive. The vibrations stay rumbly through all three speeds. I feel like I should have more to say about this, because it’s one of the most important qualities of any vibrator and Bombex got it very right here – but all I really have to say is that it’s rumbly and good and I like it!
The shape of the internal arm is such that it can hit my G-spot fairly easily, and feels great doing so. I love that it’s got a swollen head and a slightly slimmer shaft, because this makes its sensations more discernible to my G-spot and also makes it so that I can sort of fuck myself hands-free with the toy by clenching and unclenching my PC muscles rhythmically.
That last point is worth expounding upon more: this is a toy that stays inside me pretty well, even when I’m using it hands-free, but nonetheless will gently move back and forth against my body if I rhythmically squeeze my pelvic muscles. For me, this quality makes it way easier for me to orgasm with a dual-stimulation toy, because the additional motion on top of the vibration (+ in this case, pressure waves) makes the whole toy feel more stimulating.
The shape and size of the clitoral stimulator work well for me. It can’t stimulate as much of my clit as the large-mouthed Lelo Sila, but at least it doesn’t focus uncomfortably on the exposed tip of my clit like so many other toys of this kind. There’s a soft rim of silicone around the opening that makes the sensation feel gentler but no less pleasurable.
It’s made of body-safe silicone and ABS plastic!
It’s waterproof!
It has a remote control! Unfortunately I could not test this component because I had to fly to New York midway through working on this review and forgot the remote at home, but in theory I think it’s a great idea for a toy like this to have a remote. It makes it so that you can control the intensity without needing to reach into your pants/underwear every time (should you be wearing any), which could make this toy useful for public play.
Things I don’t like about this toy:
You can’t control the toy’s two functions separately. I know I complain about this in almost every dual-stimulation toy review I write, but if a toy does two different things to two different body parts, you should really be able to control each component individually, since different body parts don’t always want the same kinds of stimulation at the same time. On this toy, both functions are controlled in tandem by one button.
The outer portion of the toy has very little flexibility, which makes it so that if you have a particularly long or particularly short distance between your clit and vaginal opening, you might not be able to comfortably use both parts of the toy at the same time. (The distance from the middle of the clit stimulator to the top of the vaginal shaft is about 1.25″.)
Three steady speeds is not really enough. Granted, I’m generally not a fan of vibration patterns – but setting that aside, the fewer steady speeds a toy has, the bigger the jumps between each speed are likelier to be. Moving up to the next speed often feels jarring and takes me out of the moment a little, rather than encouraging higher and higher levels of arousal.
Having only one button means you have to scroll through all 10 settings to get back to a previous one. This is bad news for anyone who, like me, tends to turn the vibrations up and down a lot during any given session to help prevent overstimulation.
The vibrations feel stronger/rumblier/more impactful than the clitoral pressure waves, so sometimes all I can really feel is the vibration. However, I still get enough clit stimulation that I can come with this toy easily if I’m watching porn or otherwise engaging my brain in some sexy stuff.
As with most other pressure-wave toys, this one can make me orgasm easily but the orgasms aren’t always the most satisfying, and are sometimes immediately overtaken by discomfort as the toy keeps sucking my clit while I get hypersensitive post-orgasm.
Final thoughts:
There’s a lot I don’t understand about this toy. Why is it a butterfly? What are the wings and antennae supposed to do?* Why is there an illustration in the instructions that seems to indicate you can use the pressure-wave component on a partner’s penis while they’re fucking you?!
Overall though, I think the Bombex Butterfly Desire Vibe Pro is a good value for its price point ($60), assuming you want a dual-stimulation toy with pressure waves and the distance between your clit and vaginal opening is in range for this one to work for you.
This post was sponsored, meaning I was paid to write a fair and honest review of this product. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
*When reached for comment, a representative at Bombex told me, in response to these questions: “Women are like butterflies, representing beauty, freedom, rebirth and goddess. Women are like a butterfly, her wings unfolded. Sucking and vibrating at the same time. Stimulating the clitoris and G-spot to give you out-of-this-world orgasms. Women like butterflies. The color of the red rose symbolizes romance, love, beauty and courage. The antenna flirts with your secret desire. The two eyes turn into usb port for long-lasting pleasure and can be quickly recharged. They shimmer and glow in the moonlight and almost seem to come alive. Women are like butterflies. People say a butterfly cannot see the color of its own wings. Cannot see how beautiful they really are. We are butterflies. Even if you can not see it. Even if you can not see how beautiful you really are. Just know that BOMBEX MAKES YOU FEEL BOMB AF!” [sic]
Content note: This post contains some non-explicit, not-super-detailed descriptions of times that I was sexually creeped on by adults when I was a teen.
I’ve always had a complicated relationship to the foot fetish community. Some of my earliest memories of feeling creeped out and sexually taken advantage of are related to foot fetishism, unfortunately. But that just means I have to work harder to overcome my biases and embrace kinksters who approach this fetish in fully consensual, 100% respectful ways – unlike those who started harassing me online when I was 14.
I’ve been posting outfit photos on-and-off since 2006, and one thing that happens when you post outfit photos to an audience of any significant size is that you attract people who fetishize the stuff you wear. People flocked to my Flickr page to fawn over my leggings, my corduroy shorts, the leather gloves I’d occasionally put on for fancy events. Pretty much anything I ever wore, there would be somebody who’d fetishize it.
But unfortunately it was often the foot fetishists who were the most extreme in this behavior. Even when I was literally 14 years old, I would receive comments and messages from them regularly, demanding that I post more barefoot pics, wear more sandals, or even send them my old and unwanted pairs of shoes. Some of them would lie to me in order to achieve the result they wanted; I’ll never forget the one who told me he ran a “recycling plant” for old sneakers and would be happy to accept my donations. Even at 14, I saw right through that shit and called him out – but it made me feel deeply uncomfortable and violated nonetheless, to be so intensely sexualized by strangers who clearly just saw me as a body for their visual consumption.
It’s been 16 years since I first started posting outfit photos online, and I have a lot more perspective on human behavior now – not to mention, a lot more knowledge about the shame and secrecy that run rampant in fetish communities. It actually makes total sense to me that people who’ve had their deepest sexual desires shamed and stigmatized for many years would turn to unsavory tactics to get their needs met. I’m not saying it’s okay – it’s deeply, deeply not okay at all – but I do understand where the impulse comes from. It’s just not a good impulse, because it involves prioritizing your own pleasure and gratification over someone else’s personhood and safety – and that’s never acceptable, no matter how difficult it may have been to live with the fetish that you have.
These experiences have made me extra appreciative in adulthood of fetishists who are straightforward and respectful, e.g. those who politely request sexy feet pics from me with the clear knowledge that money will need to be exchanged in order for those photos to materialize. (If that’s something you’re interested in, by the way, you should click here.)
It’s not that paying for foot-related media is the only way to access it respectfully; it’s just that it’s the only way for an internet stranger to get foot-related media from me, specifically, and I know many others feel the same. That’s why websites like FunWithFeet.com are so cool – they connect people who want foot content with people who are willing to provide it, for an agreed-upon fee.
I always wished for something like this when I was in my late teens/early twenties, because it frustrated me to no end that random men would demand I post more pics of me in sandals, or whatever, and not even offer to buy me the sandals in question. I longed for platforms where consensual, ethical fetishism could be expressed and enjoyed by anyone who wanted to participate, and where no one would ever feel even remotely pressured into doing something they didn’t want to do. So it’s pretty awesome to me that FunWithFeet and other such foot-focused hubs exist.
Another aspect of all this is the way foot fetishism manifests in my personal life, as opposed to my professional life. I’ve had a few partners who were into feet to some degree, including my current partner. It was educational and weirdly cleansing to satisfy real-life partners’ desire for foot pics after having been lied to, used, grossed out and taken advantage of by so many foot fetishists as a teen.
A beloved partner politely requesting pictures of my feet felt completely different from a faceless internet stranger one-handedly and irately demanding I post foot pics for free. It still made me nervous at times, but in different ways: I was nervous about whether my feet were pretty enough to be fetishized, whether they needed a pedicure, whether they’d somehow be a turn-off instead of a turn-on.
Luckily, though, all my foot fetishist partners have been incredibly complimentary about my feet and have never made me feel the way those online strangers did – like my feet were my entire value and the rest of me didn’t matter. Even now, when we’re lying on the couch together watching a movie at night, my partner will sometimes sweetly ask if they can remove my socks and massage my feet while we watch – and though it still sometimes feels vulnerable, or embarrassing, or tickly, I usually say yes.
It can be healing to encounter something that used to make you feel scared, sad, used, and unimportant, and to find ways to feel exactly the opposite about it. I’m reminded, once again, of one of the central lessons I’ve learned about sex as a whole: consent makes all the difference.
This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
Blow out the candles, I’m 30 today
Sing me that dissonant song
People keep asking me, “Are you okay?”
And I laugh and I half-play along
Recently, while I was combing my hair
I spotted a grey on the right
Could be a sign that I’m aging
Could be a trick of the light
It’s just a date on the calendar
I’m shuttled along like a passenger
And I’d like to speak to the manager
How am I 30?
How am I 30?
A woman can fade like a desolate flower
That’s how it seems when we’re sad
Losing our beauty is losing our power
And every last charm that we had
Everyone seems to be asking me
“When are you starting a family?”
But who knows what’s left in my ovaries?
How am I 30?
How am I 30?
Don’t wanna grow up
Makes me wanna throw up
I’m still 16 in my head
Make the clock stop
Let me take a year off
Guess I’m grateful I’m not dead
Though some days I’d like that instead
I doubt I’ll be dying disastrously
But there’s always the fear of catastrophe
Even with decades ahead of me
How am I 30?
All I can do is appreciate
My face and my age and my body weight
I guess I’ve got plenty to celebrate
Now that I’m 30
Now that I’m 30
Songwriting diary:
I’d been vaguely aware that I wanted to write a song about turning 30 – largely inspired by Bo Burnham’s brilliant song on the same subject – but I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted it to say. After I finished writing most of my song “Dreamgirl” in mid-April, I continued messing around on the little keyboard I’d written it on, and improvised a little section (“It’s just a date on the calendar/ I’m shuttled along like a passenger/ And I’d like to speak to the manager/ How am I 30?”) that reminded me rhythmically of “Another Hundred People” from Stephen Sondheim’s musical Company. I liked the nervous, syncopated feeling that it had, but still wasn’t sure what I thought the song should say – in part because I wasn’t having any particularly strong feelings about turning 30 – so I set it aside for a few weeks.
In early May I wrote some verses and a bridge about turning 30 but they were in a minor key and seemed like a weird fit with the major-key section I’d already written. I tried it on my keyboard and then on my baritone ukulele and it sounded sort of odd both ways. But then I decided to do a multi-instrumental arrangement for it in Garageband and it immediately made way more sense to me – the transitions between sections felt more purposeful, and had the sense of disorientation that aging can instill.
I did some minor lyric editing after the initial writing session. My spouse suggested using the word “catastrophe” in the verse about death, in lieu of “mortality,” and I’m glad I made that change because it works much better.
Song 20/52: “Credit Card”
Lyrics:
Got my new passport
And a burner phone I picked up at the airport
Got my next mark:
She’s a widow in a condo next to Central Park
I know where she’s goin’
And I follow her there without her even knowin’
Woo her at a bar
And play a character I carry in my repertoire
Chorus:
And I say “Hey, little honey, could you pick up the tab?
And when we’re heading home, would you pay for the cab?”
It’s oh so easy that it gets me hard
When you say yes and let me decimate your credit card
Yes, I’m a trickster
When she seems suspicious, I just stop and kiss her
That’s how it goes:
If you keep a lady happy then the money flows
(repeat chorus)
Would I do it to the queen? Yeah, you betcha!
To the stars on silver screens? Of course I would!
They can say they’d never fall for it
They can hide their cash and stall a bit
Still, I’d walk away with all of it
(repeat chorus)
Songwriting diary:
In February my spouse and I watched the documentary The Tinder Swindler together. I found it fascinating, not only because I like con-artist stories but also because, at times, I have dealt with anxiety-based delusions that my partner might actually just be pretending to like me in order to con me somehow. (You can hear that full story in this episode of the Bawdy Storytelling podcast if you’re interested.) I wanted to write a song from the perspective of a charismatic con man – equal parts Tinder Swindler, Harold Hill and Jordan Belfort – who uses his savviness and charm to get women to give him money.
I wrote the whole lyric one night. It was an odd case, as far as my usual songwriting process goes, because I didn’t start with any chords and wasn’t even playing an instrument; I just heard how I wanted the song to sound in my head, and then had to figure it out on piano. This was even trickier than I thought it would be because I heard the song distinctly as being in a bluesy/jazzy style, which is not a style I have a lot of experience playing in. (I think the last song I wrote in this style was a terrible one called “Ogle Me” when I was like 15.)
I ended up scrapping most of what I’d written, though. The verses were boring and the bridge was too redeeming – it showed the character’s human fallibility and vulnerability (“sometimes I feel a twinge of conscience/ but maybe it just means I don’t know what I want yet/ I’ll go online and click on ‘add to cart’/ and fill the empty pit inside my heart”) and I just didn’t think that was the right vibe for the song. But I really liked the chorus (“I say, hey, little honey, could you pick up the tab…”) and found that it would get stuck in my head a lot while I went about my day, which made me want to take another crack at the song. This has been a common thing lately: only deciding to continue with a song because it proves its catchiness to me.
Once again my spouse made a small-but-important contribution to my lyrics this week: originally the line in the chorus was “it’s oh so easy, gets me oh so hard” and then “it’s oh so easy and it gets me hard” and my spouse suggested that it should be “it’s oh so easy that it gets me hard.” It’s funny how sometimes you need an outside observer to tell you what the missing puzzle piece is, because you can’t see it yourself when you’ve been staring at the puzzle up-close for so long.
Song 21/52: “Bodily Autonomy”
Lyrics:
Have you heard the news today?
They’re trying to take our rights away
They think they know us, think they own us
And it’s not okay
You’d think that we could all agree
On bodily autonomy
They’d rather praise the olden days
And the economy
Chorus:
But I own my body, and it’s mine alone
And you own your body – every nerve, every bone
They don’t own our bodies; they just think they do
But thinking doesn’t make it true
I’m worried ’bout my oldest friends
Most of whom are queer and trans
And all the pride they’ve had to hide
It’s like it never ends
If someone wants a surgery
Or to end a pregnancy
It shouldn’t matter who gets mad
Or says they disagree
(repeat chorus)
If we never owned our bodies, do we own anything?
If they control our bodies, don’t they own everything?
How can they patrol our bodies? Their own bible says be kind
If they control our bodies, next they’re coming for our minds
(repeat chorus)
Songwriting diary:
I wrote this song in a way that was totally backwards compared to how I normally write songs. I was feeling deeply uninspired trying to improvise on my ukulele and piano like I normally might, so I fired up Garageband on my iPad and plugged in my Novation Launchkey midi keyboard. I had a vague idea that I wanted to write something in a waltz time signature with jazzy-sounding chords, so I tapped out a simple drum beat and laid down the first chord progression that popped into my head. Then I looped the 8 bars I’d recorded and tried improvising vocally over them for a while.
There were a bunch of different potential topics and ideas on my mind for the lyrics, one of which was the recent news that the U.S. Supreme Court plans on stripping its citizens of the right to safe abortions. I improvised the lines “Have you heard the news today?/ They’re trying to take our rights away” and it immediately felt well-suited to the melancholy vibe that the chords had, so I continued writing from there.
The lyrics went through many rewrites, most notably the second verse, which I knew had to be about trans issues. Initially it was totally different (“Some people need a medicine/ An androgen or estrogen/ To smile and thrive and stay alive/ And feel born again”) but I decided it was too medically focused and I moreso wanted to emphasize the feelings involved in being denied bodily autonomy.
The bridge took a lot of attempts to get right, too. Initially it was way more angry (“Give us a democracy instead of a theocracy/ Stop insisting blood and bone should ever be a battle zone/ Check your bible and you’ll find that your own savior says be kind/ All the founding fathers died and why should corpses be our guide?”) but the vibes were off. I usually just feel sad and despairing when I think about basic human rights being taken away; anger is a rarer response from me in that situation, so I didn’t really think I could “sell” it when I performed it, plus I knew people would be pissed about me referring to the founding fathers as corpses even though a bunch of them owned slaves and were demonstrably fallible. So I wrote a softer, more plaintive bridge that fit the mood of the rest of the song better.
Song 22/52: “The Stage”
Lyrics:
We come to this hallowed place not to kneel or repent
We come to this magical place ’cause we know what it’s meant
We’re saying goodbye to our co-star, our friend and our leader
Tomorrow’s the last day he’ll ever perform in this theatre
Our backpacks are packed up with pillows and candles and wine
We’ll stay overnight; it’s a secret, but it’ll be fine
We hide in a corner, so quiet, for almost 2 hours
We hide while the janitor mops and then shuts off the power
And then we float onto the stage, like it’s our home (’cause it’s our home)
And we say a little prayer and read a poem
We’ve said it again and again to each other
That I’m like his sister and he’s like my brother
But 8 shows a week, we pretend to be lovers
It’s acting, I know, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real
And audience members will never know quite how that feels
The touching and kissing and that’s all before intermission
Rehearsals where you never moved til you had my permission
I know when we opened, we never thought we’d run for years
So we savored each moment, each curtain call given through tears
Family isn’t just chromosomes, blood and trauma
Our family shared a marquee and some backstage drama
And we sit up on the stage, like it’s our home (’cause it’s our home)
And we linger in the love of those we’ve known
We’ve said it again and again to each other
At Saturday matinees all through the summer
I cry like I’m losing my soulmate, my lover
See the thing is: I’ve loved you for a long, long time
And not just ’cause it’s in our lines
We’ve stared into each other’s eyes
For hours on end – lord knows I’ve tried
To keep my art and life apart
But that is not what’s in my heart
The critics said I seemed genuine
They didn’t know how much trouble I’m in
Now you hold me on the stage; it feels like home (’cause you’re my home)
And I think of who we were, and how we’ve grown
We’ve said it again and again to each other
When you say “I love you,” I still feel a flutter
The last time you kiss me, I’ll long for another
Songwriting diary:
My spouse and I watched a documentary together, Those You’ve Known, which is about the Broadway musical Spring Awakening and a recent reunion/anniversary concert that the original cast did. There was a touching story in the doc about the three leads of the show sneakily staying overnight in the theatre (which I’m sure would’ve been an insurance nightmare for the production company) and sharing wine on a candlelit stage, to say goodbye to a cast member who was leaving. It really stuck with me, as did Lea Michele and Jonathan Groff’s relationship, which seems to have been more than a friendship but not quite a sexual or romantic connection.
I’ve been doing a thing lately where, when I can’t sleep, I try to write a complete set of lyrics for a potential song. I either use a random word generator to give me a starting point, or I use a concept I’ve been wanting to write a song about. One night before bed, I typed up some lyrics on my phone that told the beginning of this story: sneaking into the theatre, hiding in a corner, etc. I didn’t get very far with it, just a couple stanzas.
When I looked at it again the following morning and started trying to put it to music, the chorus-y section (“And then we float onto the stage…“) came to me naturally while I was improvising. But I didn’t start conceptualizing the song as a romantic story until the bridge kinda popped into my head (“See, the thing is, I’ve loved you for a long long time, and not just ’cause it’s in our lines…”). I thought that would ultimately be more compelling than a song about friends hanging out platonically in a theatre after hours, but maybe that’s just because I’m more comfortable writing romantic stuff.
Content note: This post contains some non-explicit, not-super-detailed descriptions of times that I was sexually creeped on by adults when I was a teen.