Muse

Santa Barbara, my own personal heaven.

Santa Barbara, my own personal heaven.

I was having a conversation with two men this past week.

One American, one British.

Both successful.

One was talking about a successful female athlete he represents (he’s a manager) and he kept mentioning again and again how difficult she was. She’s a “real pain in the ass,” he kept warning me as we discussed ways I could work with her (I should note, he adores her and wasn’t say this to be cruel or insulting…it was more admiration than anything).

I laughed saying that this made me want to work with her even more…that I don’t want to associate with women who aren’t a little bit of a pain in the ass.

I said that I myself, am a pain in the ass, and that any woman truly worth their time would be a pain in the ass, too.

The British man laughed and said he didn’t believe that I could be a pain in the ass.

I told him not to let my innocent face and seemingly sweet disposition fool him.

He asked me what I thought made me one. I replied “Because I push. I push, and push, and pick, and push, until the man I love is the best possible version of himself that he can be, and I refuse to accept anything less than from him.”

He laughed and said:

“Darling, that doesn’t make you a pain in the ass, that makes you a muse.”

I just about died right there and told him that this was the was best thing I’d ever heard come out of his mouth.

 

What a poetic and amazing way of seeing a woman…don’t you agree?

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