It's been just over a week. Every time I sit down to write ..

It's been just over a week. Every time I sit down to write something to you all -- I can't quite say what I want to say. It's frustrating. But I know that eventually, the words that are meant to be shared will come. And there's probably a lot to be kept sacred and private, too. That balance is certainly muddled. I also know I do a lot of healing and processing in private these days. But when I was younger, I'd try to process my pain and grief in a public way -- I think part of that was the rise in popularity in social media, particularly Instagram, and it felt like I lost my entire life, my community, my friends -- at a very transitional, difficult age. You see, I was only 23 when I got life-threateningly sick, and soon after, my entire life was uprooted. The life I was building for years, through college, then into a successful career, was all seemingly lost. And I had to move back to my family's house -- broke from medical costs and student debt -- to begin a process of healing that literally defined my entire 20s. And honestly, I was so absolutely desperate for validation and understanding, because I felt so very alone, and I had no fucking clue who I was. So I shared and catalogued my experiences and my journey during that time, until it reached a point where it no longer served me. It's so nice to be able to heal in quiet, without the noise of so many others. But that said, there is a balance. And it's one I've had a hard time finding... And you all being here -- I know the majority of you are not here for *this* - You are not here to witness my grief, my pain. But on some level, many of you are here for a connection, to feel something. And what I've always wanted to provide, was an expression of my rawness and realness. And yeah -- I fucking wish I could be in my creative force, my light, my sensuality, expressing my divinity - my feminine - in a way that makes you feel joy - makes you feel good - and makes you want to keep supporting my art, my porn, me. But instead I've been in very real pain. I am in a void, cycling through and unpacking my entire adulthood, illness, trauma, recovery. My first loves, my lives before, the new starts, my failures, my successes, and all the moments in-between. And I know I can come out. But I've needed to honor the stillness - I've needed to honor this loss... despite knowing it would dramatically affect my income and presence here. Because losing my dog, not only feels like losing my baby, but a part of myself. She defined so much of my life; she *saved* my life. I'm not sure those years in isolation and illness would have been tolerable without her. As some of you know, after I moved to the PNW, every step forward was about my own healing (I moved here for medical access and a fresh start), and to get Bella here with me. Moving her had to be right, because I had to ensure that her life here would be better than life on a ranch, where she was comfortable, "free-range," with her pup-brother and pup-sister...but without me. She was supposed to move here earlier last year, several times, actually. In September of 2019, I moved into a house - one that allowed and was suited for dogs. As you all know, COVID hit just months later, and that pushed back my ability to get her here, among other things. When I was finally able to travel back, her aging was, for the first time, very evident -- and her health was declining. And many of my decisions from June 2020 until this month revolved around her, specifically and indirectly. Healing her, helping her be comfortable in her illness - just as she did for me - and eventually, moving her here. The amount of financial and energetic preparation that took was vast. But no one who knew us could deny that no matter what, we needed to be together, and time felt so severely finite. I spent a lot of time with her this summer into the fall. I flew back to heal her, and had helped her recover twice, so the limitations of time were increasingly suffocating. You just can't fight natural lifespans... and she was approaching 14. I just wanted to make her feel safe, loved, and spend whatever time she had left with her. After the holidays with my family, I began the same journey West that I did by car, just two years ago for my move -- but this time, she was with me. My sweet, brave Bella. What everyone - myself included - perceived as her 3rd bounce back, was her showing up for me, one last time, giving it all she had to be with me. To go out on a high... one night before I got her to her new home. The timing? Divine. In ways I can't even explain right now. But also... are you fucking kidding me? Within me are dichotomies - gratitude and grief. Love and pain. Understanding and frustration. And I miss her. It's like a chapter of my adulthood slamming shut -- and even though I knew I was on the last page, I just... didn't want it to end. I miss her. I miss her. I miss her. Thank you for hearing me.