“Deluxe suite for one please,” I told the hotel front desk.
Then I added, “For one night, or maybe two.”
It’s been a while that I wanted to book a hotel room—a luxurious hotel room—all by myself. But I never dared to do it in the past.
No. It didn’t even cross my mind. That was for rich people, and I considered myself a middle-class family girl.
My parents always struggled with money. And I learned from them how to struggle too.
Lately, I have been going through lots of emotional and physical revelations, and I needed to take care of body and mind and be in my own presence, away from everyone.
But this time around, something felt different within me.
I always booked bunk beds with several females in hostels. Hotels felt too “expensive” for me; too foreign.
But now, I just wanted to experience an expensive suite. A large one. All by myself. Soaking in a bubble bath with a glass of red wine in my fingers…
I could picture the whole scenario. It felt yummy, and I felt turned on just by picturing it.
I could hear my inner critic screaming at me to not do it, “You crazy idiot, you selfish b*tch, you will waste your money, and then you will starve to death.”
Guess what I replied?
I said, “F*ck off; I’m not going where you want me to go, so screw you.”
That voice was all the people who taught me how to struggle with money and never have enough.
But instead, I trusted my intuition that was demanding a “high-maintenance” woman who wishes for something, and it magically falls into her lap.
So I obeyed that part of me.
I listened to the woman who wanted to see herself in a new experience and environment.
I booked my suite with a king-sized bed where I could roll from side to side naked, watch myself in the mirror, and admire my lines without a man by my side.
But one might hardly believe it’s possible, right?
We are conditioned to believe that we have to have someone to share that suite with and, of course, f*ck with.
In fact, the front desk guy gave me two cards to open my suite with, and I wondered why two when I told him it was just me.
As I ascended to the 25th floor, the guy who was with me in the elevator understood my confusion and commented, “They assumed you’re expecting someone later.” I vaguely smiled and said “thanks” to him as I exited the elevator.
I entered my suite, and the first thing I felt like doing was getting naked.
I savored my body in the mirror. I took photos of it to admire it later. I’ve always liked to take nudes of myself but have never posted any—not publicly. So in this article, I dare myself to do it.
The first hours in my suite were calm and peaceful. The lights of an entire city on the side of my bed. It felt surreal, but interesting.
I touched my body and felt my soft skin.
I aroused and seduced myself as I looked in the mirror.
I looked at my pussy as she opened all of herself to me, feeling safe and secure under the care of my hand and fingers.
I felt free.
Sometimes, I felt horny.
Words came out of my mouth as if a lover was seducing me with his skin and fingertips.
But I did not feel alone, nor lonely.
I realized, in that moment of nakedness with myself, that I can’t accept just any man I see or date in my bed. It’s not an option any longer. I prefer to have a king-sized bed alone until someone who rings with my spirit crosses my path.
For me, it seems impossible now to allow a man to carelessly touch me or not in the way that I treat my own body and heart.
As the thought of having my kind of lover by my side faded away (a strong desire that anyone has), I focused on my breath and kept admiring my body shape and how soft my skin felt.
I keep seeing these pictures (that I saved on my phone) of my one night at the suite, and I see a woman coming through.
The woman in me who is longing to be set free.
Being naked is so nourishing and swiftly connects us with our bodies.
But for some strange reasons, we—especially women—are ashamed to be seen naked, in nude photos, or in sexy photographs.
Why is that?
Perhaps, because not many can handle a woman who is learning to explore and feel comfortable with her sensual and sexual nature—with her own body, alone, yet not lonely.
The closer we get to our bodies, the more we will respect them and the more we set boundaries with who we invite to our beds.
Whether you are a man or a woman, if you would like to enjoy a luxurious suite that you can afford, book it.
Do something luxurious you have never done before.
Give yourself a day of luxury in any way or any environment you have secretly wanted but never dared to visit.
You don’t need a lover to buy you a deluxe suite on a one-night stand.
You can gift it to yourself.
You can create a beauty oasis for 24 to 48 hours straight and become intimate with your own body, mind, and spirit.
You can seduce and turn yourself on and see how you look when you get aroused.
You can seduce yourself and take pictures to check them later and what this experience meant for you.
You will learn a lot about yourself just in one night, diving deep within yourself in a luxurious suite.
You will understand that, perhaps, you did not want to live a minimalist lifestyle and that it was someone else’s idea.
Perhaps, you will understand how comfortable or uncomfortable you are with your naked body and your aroused spirit.
You can book a deluxe suite for one today.
And maybe for two tomorrow.
But having this experience will tell you more about yourself than sharing it with a casual man—the same applies to men.
I’m realizing that I want to live a rich lifestyle internally and maybe externally—my spirit does not want to settle for less than that.
I am here to be big—and I’m telling the Universe what I want.
Because I’m not scared anymore of “losing” money. I will always have the money I need to buy anything I want to have.
And last but not least, for the first time, I am daring myself to share my nudes publicly because, for the first time, I don’t feel ashamed or scared of what others might think. I see a big, potent piece of art in my nude photography, and this is what I think and believe.
I’m breaking the financial spell of scarcity and my deep rooted shame about nudity, which I carried with me since when I was 12. I always felt small, insecure, and vulnerable in these two areas. But now, I feel so f*cking good and transformative.
I’m paving the path for my spirit to come through with total rawness. Perhaps, it’s what I have longed for, for a long time.
Through this experience, I learned how to give myself the total freedom to spend money on a suite and the freedom to allow my body—my sensuality—to be.
Is it coincidental? I don’t think so.
Think and test it on your own.
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