Life of a Kept Woman

I want to chronicle this particular niche - a woman being well cared for by a man for no other reason than it fulfills them both.

Location: San Francisco Bay Area, California, United States

In 2001, I stopped working and focused on having the most pleasurable and fulfilling life possible. Today, I have succeeded my wildest expectations. A “kept woman” is a woman who is being supported comfortably by a man for reasons having nothing to do with marriage, children, or sex. We are intelligent women, who know there is more to life than proving yet again we can do it just as well as men. We are choosing lives of comfort and service, but only to the extent that it pleases us. The men who support us do so because they see it as their best move for a rich life with a partner who can create a lifestyle based on having the best of what life has to offer for them both. The best is everything from cocktails at sunset to cycling together mid-day to serving the poor.

Friday, May 13, 2005

The Beginning of Lived Epiphany

Something has been lifted. One of many veils between me and the world. I can touch, see, feel people - strangers and friends. I can look in their eyes and see them. What a surprise to also find there; myself, my humanity. The fear is gone, that feeling that I might get something on me, that I might see something other than my perfect picture of myself. Yesterday was a complete joy.

From within my own space, I say hello energetically, and the rest follows. Our eyes meet and I smile. Looking to see who they are, what would serve them, I put a dollar into their hand, we hand Zoe the bag of treats for her hospitalized daughter. There's no guilt, no ought to. No sense of loss.

I think I must have had a sense of entitled distance. Stories from my childhood, about how kids made fun of me because I was racially different from them, and how there must be something wrong with me because no one wants to play with me, ejected from my friend's house because my mother wasn't home from work yet. Pieces of my humanity broken off to form shields and reinforced by familial patterns of emotional isolation. While I was busy working on protecting myself from more imagined slights and indignities, I had no idea that I could impact other people. Sure, I went through the motions, it is part of my persona to do so. However to reach out from the inside because it seems like the thing to do, to know myself through someone else, to comfort because it brings comfort into my world; that's what's new.

Will this be temporary? Probably, but I hope not.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005


A couple days ago, I was talking to George in our kitchen. He was trying to pull me out of my funk. As a clairvoyant student, you go through these "growth periods" as your physicality catches up with the huge changes in your psyche, that result from when you clear out emotional, spiritual, and physical debri. I sat there watching him, with a slight detachment, churn through his usual litany of stuff to make me feel better - "we just have to do this . . . or do that . . . or try this . . . ". In the middle of it, he said something surprisingly true. "For reasons that escape me, people [that we've met recently] don't seem to like us."

Before I knew it, these were rolling out of my mouth, "People don't like us because we're arrogant snobs who don't care anything about them."

This truth has been knocking around inside of me every since.

JFK said, "For of those to whom much is given, much is required." We have been holding ourselves a little apart and a lot superior because we believe our training and experience with sensuality and relationships makes us better somehow. We built a grand fairy castle that almost no one can enter, and we have been unable to escape. Instead of generously sharing with respect and caring, and allowing ourselves to be enriched by the people we come across; we come across like we have the answers and are disdainful of others who think their answers are as good or better than ours. It is the height of petty small-minded insecurity.

" . . . much is required." I've been reading Queen Noor's autobiography. George dismissed her for having anything worthy to say given her life of privilege. As I read her story, though, all I'm getting is her incredible life of service and her singular desire to use the resources at her disposal to create a world of peace. Perhaps this has also added to my funk, the discrepancy between what motivates me versus what motivates her. I want to be a better person. I want to use my resources to make someone's life better. I want people to have a reason to feel even better about themselves while in our presence. I want everyone who comes in contact with us to know they are fine just the way they are.

When I was in graduate school and in the midst of deep personal transformation and poverty, I had a quote on the wall next to my PC that said, "You're doing fine. Keep going." It never failed to warm me because it declared that no matter what was going on in that moment, it was perfect; that no matter how badly I thought I was screwing up, I was doing the best I knew how to do in that moment; and for that matter, so was everyone else.