It seems to me that every woman has to go through this at every moment of her life.
Long rocks - for anyone. For children, for people, for fathers, for work, for the team.
You are a mother, a caretaker, a helper, an organizer, a caretaker, a strategist... The list can be continued ad infinitum.

And then in one wound you go to waste. You look at the mirror. And instead of the draft list, you feed yourself a long hour ahead:
“Who am I to myself?”

I have miracle children. The stinks are already mature, independent, strong. I'm writing to Tim, the stench has become.
Now a new stage has arrived in my life.
I began to wonder to myself. About your dreams, your dreams, about those who make your heart beat more often 💓

I began to allow myself more:
Raise the price without a plan, just for the sake of it.
Dance not only in the hall, but in the kitchen, barefoot.
Clothes of cloth that feel like a pill to femininity.
Wear perfume that will take away the trail... and look.
Flirting is not for the result, but for the sake of emotion ✨

I'm not looking for the perfect kohanny. I don't need any more.
I'm just kidding.
Warm. Smile. With volumes for no reason. Because of the heat, the wise ones are just the two of us.
Kohannya, who wants to share the rest of the chocolate... or a whole bunch of chocolate ☕😉

I know the value of intimacy. And the price of freedom is the same.
That’s why I’m not in a hurry - otherwise I don’t want to. I'm open to the bitter end. Until new acquaintances, new stories, new achievements to the soul.