What She Deserves
Because the world has already been cruel enough.
Because for every whispered “I hate the way my body looks,” there should be someone replying, “I sure as hell don’t, but you can keep my hoodie on while I worship you anyway.”
Because intimacy isn’t about performance— it’s about partnership. regardless if your in a relationship or not When she says, “I don’t know how do anything,” she deserves someone who smiles and says, “That’s okay—we’ll learn together.” No pressure. No expectations. Just exploration, giggles, and the gentle discovery of what feels good, what feels safe, and what feels like home.
Because too many have been made to feel unworthy of love unless they’re hairless, spotless, and polished like a showroom doll. She says, “I didn’t shave,” and the right answer is, “I literally don’t care. I’ll go full wilderness explorer, or shave it for you like a knight with a Venus razor.”
Because consent is sacred. And when she says, “I don’t want to,” the world should stop spinning. No questions. No guilt. Just, “Then I won’t either. Your body is not a compromise. Your safety is the priority.”
Because fear lives in the places she’s been taught to be ashamed. She says, “What if I taste bad?” And the answer is, “It’s not a bakery—and I’d be worried if it did taste like cake. You are real, and real is beautiful.”
Because not everyone wants to be called names or slapped or spit on. And when she says, “I don’t like to be degraded,” there’s someone out there who says, “Perfect. I do—but only by life, not by you. You’re going to feel like the most special human on earth when I’m through.”
Because trauma doesn’t disqualify her from intimacy. It means she’s human. It means she’s survived. And when she whispers, “I have to much trauma,” she deserves someone who doesn’t flinch, doesn’t push, doesn’t demand. Just says, “Same. You don’t owe me pleasure. You only owe yourself peace. And I will never cross your line.”
Women deserve good intimate moments because for too long, they’ve been told their pleasure is optional, their consent negotiable, their bodies flawed, and their fears irrelevant.
and the the big one “I have too much drama in my life.”
Then you must be living a hell of a story, and I’m not afraid of a few plot twists. Because drama doesn’t scare me. You crying in your car at 2am? Been there. A messy ex still lurking around like a ghost with bad Wi-Fi? Seen it. Family chaos, friend fallouts, identity meltdowns? Welcome to Earth, baby—we're all just trying not to trip over our own trauma.
You say “too much drama” like it’s a warning label. But I see it as proof you feel deeply, you care hard, and you’ve probably been hurt enough times to think you’re too much for someone to handle. You're not.
You don’t need to be a peace treaty wrapped in silence to deserve a soft, honest, wild, healing kind of intimacy. You don’t need to have it all together to be held like you’re something sacred. You can bring the chaos—you can bring the fire—and still deserve someone who doesn’t flinch when you say, “ and besides my life’s kind of a mess as well girl.”
Good intimacy isn’t about how tidy your past is. It’s about how safe your present can become.
So no—you’re not “too much.” You’re just real. And if you bring the drama, I’ll bring the snacks, the patience, and a playlist that matches every damn mood swing.
But the truth is that!
Women deserve to be
Seen, not scrutinized. Held, not handled. Cherished, not just chased.
A good intimate moment is not about lust. It’s about safety, softness, patience, and the kind of love that asks first and listens hard.
Because when it’s done right, intimacy doesn’t take anything from her.
It gives her back to herself.
