​I once had a man of God, a preacher, tell me I was full of hubris and headed straight for damnation. He was furious because I told him I didn’t need a poorly written book, and sitting quietly in a big building being lectured at weekly, to know how best to live my life.

Perhaps I should have phrased it a bit differently.

After all, he was very concerned for my soul.
I, however, wasn’t sure he knew what my soul looked like.

He angrily asked HOW I KNEW right from wrong, if HE (or someone like him instructed in the ways of GOD - all caps emphatic in his voice) hadn’t told me what was what?

​I’m conscious of a craving - primal, visceral, raw, and real. It’s visual and tactile and goes well beyond any type of desire I’ve ever had before.

I’m hungry for it.
Didn’t even realize it until recently, when I noticed I couldn’t get enough of it.

Not chocolate.
Not sex (although that’s wonderfully primal too).
Not for luxury items or things…

It’s for…

COLORS
Not just any colors.
VIBRANCY

Along with the craving comes the incredible, enormous feeling of being 100% ALIVE.

I’m not even sure I am describing it correctly.

​There is something magical about hanging out on top of a mountain, eating cherries, and laughing with your friends over life’s odd moments. 

I find it easier to talk when the world - with all it’s distractions of pings, clicks, likes, advertisements, shoulds/buy me/pay attention to what I’m saying because if you don’t you won’t be accepted/wanted/valued - is far below you. 

Even better when your cell service is listed not as 5G but as SOS…(which I define as shizzle out of service).

​“Hi my name is Tink and I’m a (something something) year old woman who is starting to date.”

I had been sitting with my partner having a bite to eat and telling him how I wanted to give myself grace as this whole “dating” thing is new to me. When he looked a bit suss at my statement, the words above popped through my head.

I smiled sheepishly. “It’s true’, I insisted, ‘I don’t have a lot of dating experience!”

Now anyone who knows me, would probably ALSO give me the side eye on this proclamation. After all, the relationship I’m in currently is not my first one by a LOOOOONG shot. And if you’re feeling a bit lost right now, let me get you up to speed on the silly wonderful fabulous situation I call “my norm”.

For those new to me, my name really IS Tink, and I am a polyamorous, bisexual, full time adult entertainer, and currently a software engineering student. My partner and I recently moved in together and BOTH of us date…separately. 

I don’t want to move from this spot on the chair. Curled up in a small ball, I’m afraid I might unravel if I stretch my limbs and move. So I stay still, and wonder… 

Feeling frayed and worn out, would pieces of me begin to loosen and fall into scattered piles? Or would I try and pull the strings taut again into a smile - my usual armor to face the world?

Fighting depression is an exercise in holding onto a tenuous link to joy. One moment I’m giggling. The next it’s as though a tsunami of sadness dropped from the sky and left me drowning in tears. 

Or it can sneak up stealthily, like a spy trying to infiltrate a castle in a land of abundance. Because when life feels so damn good, who would ever expect depression to invade?