March 19, 2016

She is Your Challenge—if You’re up for It.

woman, girl, windy, raw, messy hair,

Maybe it’s the way she always looks like she has a secret on the tip of her tongue.

Maybe it’s the way she holds back, just a tiny, little bit, biting her bottom lip, saying nothing, but expressing absolutely everything.

Maybe it’s the way her hair is always slightly messy, windswept—flowing free like a frothy waterfall, deliciously undone.

What treasures lie beyond the tip of her tongue?

What rubies swim in the vast, deep, dark ocean inside her?

What lush beauty lies, dormant and eager, beneath the scarlet sheen of her soft lips?

That is something you’ll spend the rest of your life uncovering.

She is your challenge.

She cannot be figured out, over a glass of white wine, on a first date, in an hour. She cannot be figured out through body language, through words, through laughter—she can’t be figured out easily, at all.

She’s multi-layered. Complicated as f*ck.

She’s a luscious, colorful garden with blushing roses, budding fruit trees, bluebirds and monarch butterflies—a mountaintop meadow exploding with the first signs of Spring,

She’s a desert—hot and strong and unrelenting as hell.

She’s a mossy forest, deep and mysterious and richly emerald green, like the glint of her eyes in the afternoon sunshine.

She’s the breeze, ethereal, messy, lyrical—a soft whisper of vulnerability.

She’s a fierce howling lioness; a hungry huntress; a vicious, determined wolverine.

She’s powerful. She’s outrageous. She’s afraid. She’s brave. She’s gentle. She’s as badass as they come.

Her eyes look like they hold the seas, tumultuous and powerful, crashing with constantly changing waves of aquamarine and grey and sapphire—somehow wild and serene at the same time.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg—for with every question she answers, more mysteries lie unsolved—hanging in the air like budding lilacs, infusing your mind with an ambrosia of wicked sweetness like you’ve never experienced in your life.

Her presence alone is an elixir. And she knows it.

So, no—she won’t give her heart to just anyone. She won’t dole out slices of her soul like it’s cheap candy.

She knows better.

And no, she’s not interested in being your well-behaved sweet little kitten of a sidekick. She’s her own damn superhero. And, if that scares the crap out of you, then good.

She’s your challenge.

Maybe it’s in the stubborn way she won’t ever be told who to be. Or what to do. The way she stands tall like a gritty lotus, proud in her earthy, sensual femininity—wholly unashamed of the curves on her hips, delighted in the way her flesh spills over slightly from the sides of her blue jeans.

Maybe it’s the way her whole face lights up when she speaks the sacred vines of truth in her mind.

Yes, she’s your challenge, there’s no doubt about it.

But falling in love doesn’t always come easy for her. Maybe other men haven’t valued her or challenged her—or maybe she didn’t yet value herself. Maybe other lovers deeply dissappointed her with empty promises that did not mean sh*t in the end.

She’s looking for something real; something deep and magical and true.

She’s not easy. It will take care and strength and bravery and precision to get to know this woman.

Are you patient?


She’ll blossom in your presence, petal by precious petal, like a salmon-colored rose.

She’s your challenge.

Beware her thorns, for she is certainly not all soft bunnies and whipped cream—she’s got a grittiness to her that only the earth itself can explain.

Maybe it’s all captured in the way she dances through the mud and sh*t and pain and difficulty like a mid-Summer thunderstorm—welcoming every raw raindrop to land on her her tongue as she shakes her hips to the primal beats of rumbling thunder and sobs salty tears with the slightest smile on her face.

Maybe it’s the way she doesn’t turn away from the shattering vulnerability of the present moment, but breathes deeply, looks it right in the face and tastes this moment with her entire heart.

She’s strong because she’s been broken open so many times. She’s gentle because she knows pain so intimately. She’s wise because she’s f*cked up a lot. And she wouldn’t trade any of that for the world—because every mistake and heartbreak transformed her into the wild, magical woman she is today.

She’s magical, she’s maddening, she’s the kind of woman who knows the full extent of her power,

The kind of woman who kisses the dewy earth with every step she takes,

The kind of woman who cares deeply, feels profoundly, and loves madly,

The kind of woman who will passionately argue with you ’til the warm, apricot glow of sunrise,

She’s the kind of woman who will shock you to the core with a single smile.

She will make you question everything; she will be the delicious tornado that blows your perfect little world to bits.

Knowing her is an adventure that you have to be ready for.

Loving her is like breathing for the first time.

Kissing her is alchemy—it’s like peeling open your thirsty heart and drizzling it with a splash of golden mango nectar.

Her presence alone is an elixir; her heartbeat heals the world; her tears make flowers bloom.

She’s a masterpiece and she knows it.

She won’t be easy, that’s for damn sure, but she is more than worth it.

She is your challenge.

Are you up for it?

You have no idea the kind of mystical, life-changing beauty you’re in for.


Author: Sarah Harvey

Editor: Sarah Kolkka

Photo: Porsche Brosseau/Flickr    

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