Daisy Harris's Blog, page 27

Newsie News and Future Plans

Hey SuperFans,

I’ve got news!

The second installment Fire and Rain is contracted to Samhain Publishing and is scheduled to release in February 2014! It’s called AFTER THE RAIN and features the character Henri who you’ll meet in FROM THE ASHES.

Currently, I’m working on the third Fire and Rain story, which needs a name! If I can’t come up with one on my own, maybe I’ll have a contest to see if  you guys can come up with a name for me.

After that? Well, I’ve been messing with an idea for a new Holsum College story. I’d love to write another book for that series, and if I can get my butt in gear, maybe I can get that out by the end of 2013! (Siren’s publishing schedule allowing.)

That’s all I’ve got planned, sweeties. As always, I’m writing as fast as I can!

-Daisy

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Cover Reveal and Release Update!

Guess what, Lovies?

I’ve got a cover and release dates for the third Ivory Towers book!

Here’s the calendar for this series so far:

Freshman: Uncut

General release (Amazon): June 14th

Sophomore: Undeclared

Pre-order: June 10

VIP Release: June 24

General release (Amazon): July 22

Junior: Unscripted

Pre-order: July 19

VIP release: August 2

General release (Amazon): August 30

WHEEEE!!!! 

 

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You Don’t Get Raped Because You’re Pretty

Gosh, where to start? I want to talk today about male bullying behavior and the excuses people make for it. This is such a big topic and I have so much to say. Maybe I should start at the beginning with my own experiences and go from there. Bear with me, I’ll get to the point eventually, I swear…

I’ve been attracting crazies lately. Guys (and the occasional woman) with stalker-stares who get in my personal space and make me feel uncomfortable. It’s no mystery to me why this is—my husband is out of town and I’m feeling really vulnerable and anxious. Basically, I’m a good target for people wanting to work out their mildly sociopathic issues. Given I live in a big city, there are of course unstable people around. Usually, though, I have the confidence to brush them off, or give them a frustrated glance, or otherwise make it clear I’m not the kind of person who’ll stand to be bullied, even non-verbally.

Not lately, though. Lately, I freeze like a rabbit, unable to move or talk, while online or in my head I call the asshole every vile name in the book.

It’s not nutjobs who concern me. They’re always around and always will be. No, what freaks me out is how often when I recount my annoyance over these incidents, people respond with, “Well, you’re pretty.”

Uh… Really? Prettier than the 23 year old barista with long blonde hair and blue eyes who said crazy asshole DIDN’T hit on?

My relative attractiveness to the rest of the Seattle population is not the issue, though. It’s that anyone would think  men and women invade my personal space and give my stalker stares because I’m cute.

Let me explain stalker-stare types. They hit most frequently when I’m sitting down, like at a coffeeshop or airport, and when I’m distracted. In other words—when I’m not in the most convenient position to get away.

They drop into a seat directly in my line of sight and too close for a normal person to chose to sit to another person. As they drop, they grunt, or sigh. Kind’ve like a gorilla. Spreading their legs wide, they’ll orient their entire body toward me, and often rest their hand to frame their dick (assuming their men.) And then they stare. Like Charles Manson.

And stare, and stare, and stare, and stare.

The immediate response I get to this when I tell people is generally, “Well, he probably just liked you! You can’t blame a guy for trying!”

Listen—these guys are no spring chickens or confused eighteen-year-olds. They’re in their thirties, forties and fifties. There is no excuse by that age not to be able to read the most basic of social cues. No excuse besides being a bully, a sociopath, or having psychiatric issues that make you unable to understand and respond to normal human interactions.

If Stalker-Stare falls into the last category, I feel for him. I really do. Granted, most of the time Stalker-Stare is wearing clean clothes and is otherwise well-kept enough to suggest they’re holding down a job, so I’m going to assume they understand people at least in a basic sense.

MALE BULLYING EXCUSE NUMBER ONE: “BUT HE LIKES YOU!”

Response: Whether he likes me or not is inconsequential. Intimidation is intimidation.

The next thing people tell me, to excuse Stalker-Stare is that I read him all wrong. The insinuation is that I’m a tad bitchy. (Yanno, because I’m so pretty.) The poor guy is an innocent victim to my beauty and couldn’t control himself, and it’s just that I didn’t want to talk to him because I was busy writing a gay threesome. It wasn’t that HE was being aggressive to the point of rudeness, it’s that I saw danger where there was none.

Here’s the thing—I’m a forty-year-old woman who’s lived in urban areas practically her entire life. I’ve physical fought off an assailant, dated more men than I care to list, gone to countless night clubs, and walked around in the middle of the night in the dark enough times to know what the fuck I’m talking about.

Do apologists honestly think I don’t recognize a dangerous person when I see him (or her)? Because I’m female (and pretty!) I must be soft-brained enough that I can’t tell the difference between a simple, nice man who just wants to talk to me and a crazy person who wants to push my into conversation, only to call me “bitch” under his breath when I try to subtly blow him off.

This is rape culture. It tells women they’re just reading signals wrong when men act aggressive, and even threatening. Because that’s the thing about the stalker-stare—it’s threatening. It’s a sign of aggression. It’s called “Staring a person down” and if a man encountered a man doing that to them, the man would in no way stand for it.

As a woman, I’m supposed to be flattered. To question myself when I feel threatening.

MALE BULLYING EXCUSE NUMBER TWO: “YOU JUST MISINTERPRETED WHAT HAPPENED.”

Response: I know what I saw and how it made me feel.

The next thing I hear from people hits close to the bone, because as a romance writer, love is my business. The truly horrifying, terrifying, scary thing men say when I recount creepy stalkers is, “Well, most women like men who are aggressive.”

It’s terrifying and scary because their are hundreds of websites, and dozens of books trying to teach men to be “more assertive” so women will like them. If one looks up male/female body language on Google, they get result after result proclaiming that assertive men get the girl, and women who are sexually interested will act “submissive.”

Dude—how loaded can you get?

The truth is both men and women like members of the attractive sex who like them back. They like people who smile at them, act relaxed, use casual mimicking gestures to show they’re on the same page. (I’m taking this from What Every Body is Saying: An Ex-FBI Agent’s Guide to Speed Reading People, by Joe Navarro.)

 

 

Agressive stances, angry grunts, and unblinking stare is NOT a way you approach someone you “like.” It’s the way you approach someone you hate.

There is no reason to believe that someone who scowls at you or has clenched fists as they try to get your attention “likes” you. It DOES NOT mean they are overcome with feeling because you’re just so beautiful. Maybe they’re angry at you because you’re pretty. Or whatever. But either way, it’s natural to want to get as far away as possible.

MALE BULLYING EXCUSE NUMBER THREE: “BUT WOMEN *WANT* US TO ACT THIS WAY!

Response: Uh…no.

Then there is the flip side—the advice men get that an interested woman will act “submissive.” The thing is, submissive is a very loaded term. It means different things to different people. Truth is, both men and women who are interested in a person sexually will perform certain types of submissive behavior, like exposing their palms, wrists, insides of forearms to the person they desire. Idiot websites tell men that women crossing their legs is “submissive” and a sign she wants you to give her the “D.”

Well, according to Joe Navarro, who totally knows his shit because he spent years interrogating criminals, men cross their legs around women they love as well!

Amazing! Can you imagine? MEN acting open, receptive, and relaxed might actually mean they like you? You sure don’t see that on a casual internet search. It doesn’t fit our rape culture model of how men and women express desire.

Women are told to be submissive to attract men, and men to be assertive to attract women, when really both sexes behave in similar ways when faced with something or someone they like. According to Joe Novarro, we all preen, flare our nostrils, and move closer to that which we want.

So a man looking for a “submissive” woman? It’s kind of a warning sign…

Rapists profile women who seem passive and submissive. They look for signs like a shortened stride, raised shoulders, and limited arm movements to signal that a woman or man is a good target for assault. (Taken from Body Language and Assault: A Review of the Literature, Brad Binder, PhD.) Worth noting—they don’t seem to care whether or not to target is “pretty.”

Assailants look for women who seem scared, and who appear as if they’ll freeze when attacked and be too terrified afterwards to do anything about it. This is why I get so fucking pissed when people give me the stalker-stare and I freeze. I KNOW I’m giving them what they want. My shoulder climb, and I tense up. Like I’m being wrapped in an invisible spider web, I can’t move my arms away from my body or even muster the strength to stand up.

Sorry for using a child in this imagine, it’s just ALL the pictures online you find under “terrified women” show women trying to look both frightened AND sexy. If you ever had to wonder about rape culture… >.<

THAT is acting “submissive.” Head down, shoulders up, trying to be invisible. That’s not the posture of someone who is turned on, it’s the posture of someone who’s terrified. Men should be taught the difference.

I repeat—Men should be taught the difference.

MALE BULLYING EXCUSE NUMBER FOUR: “BUT MEN LIKE SUBMISSIVE WOMEN! IT’S JUST NATURE!”

Response: Rapists like submissive women. Real men like women who like them back.

Not only did I read about body language this weekend, I read He’s Just Not That Into You: The No-Excuses Truth to Understanding Guys, which I’d been meaning to do for a while. Though its a book about how women need to ditch guys who treat them badly, I realized a lot about male behavior through that book.

The first thing I learned is the obvious—that a man who is interested in you will act interested in you. But the second thing I learned was more subtle…and ties in directly to all the websites telling men to “act like men” to attract women.

Where do guys get this idea that scowling at us or acting angry will help them get the girls? I think it comes from high school where bad boys had girls calling them, and handsome guys masked their adolescent insecurity by treating girls around them badly.

The sad and true fact is that boys in high school are often scared of sex and they’re even more scared of girls and emotions. They act like they want girls to leave them alone because they probably in fact do want girls to leave them alone. Not entirely…adolescence is a mess of mixed up emotions. Teens all want attention and then freak out when they get it. But, you catch my drift.

Anyway, men think that scowling is what got these “cool” guys the girls that hung all over them in high school.

Acting aloof as a method to “get chicks” serves another purpose—it tricks girls and women into asking the men out so men don’t have to put themselves out there. Want to have sex, but not make yourself vulnerable? Act like a douchebag. This is romance-novel 101 stuff.

The thing is, acting like a dick is NOT assertive. Assertive would be actually asking a woman out on a date. It would be openly showing them you’re interested. If men at Starbucks or anywhere else really wanted to express genuine interest in me, they’d smile at me.

When I didn’t smile back, or only smiled for a second before looking away, they’d get the message I was unavailable. (Yanno, the whole being married and having kids thing puts a cramp on my dating life.)

Creepy guys know perfectly well I’m not available. They don’t need to see a wedding ring. My posture, facial reactions and behavior make it clear I’m not hanging out looking for a date. If that didn’t make it clear enough, my laser focus on my computer and the pile of papers on the table around me should have given it away.

MALE BULLYING EXCUSE NUMBER FIVE: “HOW ELSE ARE WE SUPPOSED TO SHOW WE LIKE YOU?!” (Said in a high pitched whine.)

Response: Smile at a girl, then talk to her, then ask her out. Too chicken shit to do those things? Then you’re not ready to have sex with anyone.

Last but not least, there are people who point out—as if I didn’t know—that the guys who invade my space and bully me didn’t actually rape me. Hence I have no room to complain.

Well…yeah. And truthfully I don’t think the two guys who’ve done this to me in the past week *would* rape me even if given the chance. They’d just make me feel uncomfortable until I avoided them, and then moan and whine about what bitches women are.

Amusingly, I went with a stalker-stare guy to his prom once. I was a freshman in high school and a giant nerd, but apparently he was even nerdier than me because I never once noticed him until a friend of his called me up to ask me to prom  for him.

He’d crushed on me from afar. Romantic, right? You’d think so, because that’s what rape-culture wants us to believe. In reality, it’s immature.

I had to pull out a yearbook to find out who this guy was, but he wasn’t bad looking, and I really wanted to go to prom, and we had friends in common, so I said “yes.” I figured, why not give this guy a chance?

In order to get to know each other better, we went on a date. He frowned the whole time, forehead low and jaw tense. He also had me hold the steering wheel of his car so he could smoke pot while he was driving.

Granted, this alone didn’t throw me off that much, because having a girl hold the wheel so you could get high was a standard “male coolness display” employed by guys at my high school. OMG, what an alpha male! (Yes, I’m being sarcastic.)

Anyway, the guy acted like a freak. I ended up dancing with my friends at the prom and ignored him. He was pissed, and glowered silently all night.

To this day I’m sure he’s mad at me. Because in this story, I am the bitch.

Not him for scowling at me. Or for doing something illegal in my presence. Or for not having the balls to talk to me himself. Or for acting like an angry jerk.

No, in this story, I’m the bitch because I “used” him to go to prom and then ditched him.

He didn’t rape me, but I certainly gave him opportunity. If he had, would anyone have taken my side? Who could blame him, after all. I was pretty.

MALE BULLYING EXCUSE NUMBER SIX: A GUY WHO DOESN’T RAPE YOU IS DOING YOU A FAVOR. JUST MAKING YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, UNSAFE, AND INTIMIDATED IS NOT ENOUGH TO WARRANT COMPLAINT.

Response: Being a bully is being a bully. It doesn’t matter if a guy is nerdy, or in love, or scared or whatever. Insecurity is not an excuse for bullying women.

In closing, I’d just like to say… Bad behavior is bad behavior. Men, especially grown men over thirty, should be expected to approach women in a way that is classy, open, and respectful. That said, so much of our programming is set up to encourage men to bully and to convince women that it is either normal, acceptable, or at worst something women just have to put up with because they’re attractive.

Men—you can do better.

Women—men can do better.

And assholes at Starbucks, I’m onto you. Next time, I’m staring YOU down, asshole.

 

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FRESHMAN: UNCUT is out NOW for Total-E-Bound VIPs!

The wait is over. OVER, I tell you! You can buy and download Ivory Towers 1, FRESHMAN: UNCUT from Total-E-Bound right the heck now. Read it during your lunch break! After dinner! Before bed! Read it whenever you want, because it can be yours!

For all you Amazon one-click types…I feel ya. I’m a one-click buyer myself. But Freshman: Uncut won’t be out on Amazon for another few weeks. June 14th at the latest.

Buy it here.

Want more info? Check it out…

Blurb:

Sparks fly between jaded film TA, Shane, and tough-acting freshman, Angel. Shane gives Angel the sex he craves, but struggles to be the man he needs.

Shane’s too old for Angel. Even if Angel weren’t a freshman in Shane’s Intro to Film class, the kid would be too closeted, too confused, too darn changeable and needy. But when Shane sees the pain lurking behind Angel’s tough exterior, he can’t help but reach out to him and give in to the desire in those scared, brown eyes.

Pacific Rim University may as well be another planet from the Oakland neighbourhood where Angel grew up. Angel’s fought all his life to get respect, and to stay hard in the eyes of his friends back home. Always the weird kid, Angel was the guy who never hooked up with girls. Meeting his very sexy, very male Film TA, Angel starts to understand why. He refuses to admit he’s gay, but he lives for every one of Shane’s smiles.

When Shane takes Angel to task for his insolent attitude, Angel can’t resist pushing his TA further. He wants Shane to show him, force him, make him accept all the feelings battling around in his mind and his body. But Angel doesn’t just need sex. He needs a man who can help him navigate the new and very raw landscape of his feelings.

Excerpt:

Shane stared out into the auditorium—his gaze kept landing on the scrawny punk slumped in the second to last row.

The kid didn’t look up.

He was a shade or two darker than Shane, with a scruff of kinky brown hair and a broad nose. His bone structure was amazing—high cheekbones, sharp, strong jaw. Shane couldn’t tell for sure, since he was sitting down, but he seemed short. Maybe five foot eight. He wore a white wife beater and a heavy gold chain. Black track pants and a tat on his shoulder? He was trying way too hard to look tough.

“That’s all for today.” Professor Boehner flicked off the overhead and wrapped up the Intro to Film class. “Make sure you have those papers in by Monday. We’ll move onto archetypes next week.”

The class burst into a round of applause, the over-excited freshmen falling all over themselves to get to the front of the room and swoon over the professor.

Shane cleared his stuff off the desk. He hadn’t taken any notes. As one of Boehner’s teaching assistants, he’d sat through Intro to Film three times already.

“Mr Roberts?” Boehner called over the heads of his adoring throng. “A moment?”

“Sure thing,” Shane called back.

Boehner jerked his head at the back of the room, his eyes on the punk trying to make a quick getaway out the door. “Could you grab Mr Cruz? I’d like to speak with him.”

Cruz. So that was the kid’s last name. “I’ll grab him.”

Shane fought his way through the kids trying to get out of the auditorium. The brats would have parted like the Red Sea if it were Boehner walking up the aisle. Next class, Shane would make sure Boehner introduced him to the students and made it clear Shane would be grading a lot of their papers.

The punk was out the door by the time Shane reached him. He had his backpack hitched on one shoulder and a black PUMA track jacket draped over the other. The kids around him were giving him a wide berth. Stupid freshmen probably bought his gang-member act.

“Hey. Uh…”

The kid turned at the sound of his voice. “Angel,” he said, jutting his chin forward.

“Okay, Angel.” Shane was too used to freshmen to be bugged by his impudent tone. “Boehner wants to talk to you.”

The attitude drained from Angel’s face, making him look younger. He paled a little, and Shane saw a pattern of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Angel’s eyes were brown, but his right eye was grey in the lower right corner. Shane didn’t remember what it was called when a person’s eye was more than one colour. But whatever trick of genetics had given him that grey-blue slice, it added a layer of intrigue to his appearance that made Shane want to look for a lot longer than was appropriate. Damn, the kid was cute.

“I didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” Angel leaned on his heels. The swagger crept back into his posture, and he lifted his chin and stuck out his chest. Something about how he did that made Shane think it wasn’t entirely an act. Angel had probably had to stand up for himself, and most likely to guys bigger than Shane.

“I didn’t say you did. He just wants to talk to you.”

Angel glanced Shane over, rolling his gaze to Shane’s toes and back up to his face.

Shane was used to being cruised, but he couldn’t tell if that’s what Angel was doing. The kid didn’t look interested as much as scared.

“I’m the TA.” Shane shoved out his hand.

“Yeah. Hi.” Angel didn’t shake.

Shane crossed his arms, tossing every bit of Angel’s attitude back at him in the form of a cold, hard sneer. “You know, if you want to work in the film industry someday, you’re going to have to learn to deal with a few fags.”

He watched his words sink in. Angel’s expression shifted from surprise to a blush of embarrassment. “Hey, man, I didn’t ask if you were.” His defiant attitude was back, but he wouldn’t meet Shane’s eyes.

“No. You didn’t.” Shane wasn’t letting Angel off so easy. “But I’m telling you now. I’m gay, and you may as well get over it.”

Angel’s eyes widened. “Oh. Well, no disrespect, man. What, you got a boyfriend or something?”

That one came out of left field, but Shane chose to ignore it. “We better get in there before Boehner has an aneurism.” Shane headed for the door.

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Romance Times Round Up!

So I’m back from the Romance Times Booklover’s convention in Kansas City and just starting to get my bearings back in regular life. Attending conferences is like going to the circus, except you’re performing in said circus and the circus is 5 days long. There are parties, workshops, discussions, book signings…more parties. By the end of it I feel approximately the way I did after college graduation. Tweaking, hungover, and like I’ve been having an out of body experience for the past week and have just been poured into my pants.

Here were some of the best parts of the conference (in basically chronological order):

1. The Ellora’s Cave disco party. Each year at RT, one party stands out above all others. This year it was Wednesday night disco. Well done, ladies!

2. The feedback I got from my workshop with Tara Lain and Cassandra Carr. “Sell Fast, Sell Often” is going strong, with several of the attendants saying that it was the most useful workshop they attended. Look for the workshop next year in NOLA, where it will be most likely called “Reality Check.”

3. The EBook Expo. Met many great readers and book bloggers and had an awesome time! I’ll admit–I wish there was a M/M signing, or that the expos we arranged by sub genres, but overall, a total blast!

4. Hanging at the Total E Bound table at Club RT with my editor Stacey Birkel and the unbeatable TA Chase.

5. Meeting Sarah Franz, editor at Riptide. I love her!

6. Chatting nonstop with Riptide publicity chick Stephanie Grobel. She’s like the cool girl I wish I was. In my next life I want to be her.

7. Everyone loving my I

8. Marie Sexton letting me follow her around like a puppy.

9. Beef brisket and pulled pork. Dude–Kansas City kicks Seattle’s ass when it comes to barbecue.

10. The Tropical Lime party organized by Sasha H (aka Caribbean Accent) and Megan Mulry. Such great folks at that shin dig. Had a wonderful time.

I’m forgetting people and places and all sorts of other things I’m sure, but everything that happened could fill a book, much less a blog post. Thanks everyone who organized and attended RT for an awesome time! Until next year…

Daisy

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FRESHMAN: UNCUT Available for Pre-Order!!!

Guess what, guys? FRESHMAN: UNCUT is available for pre-order at Total-E-Bound! That means you can buy it for off and receive it direct on your kindle up to four weeks before it releases on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

You’d have FRESHMAN: UNCUT for sure by May 20th, but honestly, it could be any day now. So go pre-order now!!

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COMING SOON: Freshman: Uncut!

Guess what, chicas? Freshman: Uncut goes on pre-order May 6th at Total-E-Bound!!! It’s a brand new college series, telling the story of Angel and Shane as they navigate their first four years together.

Keep an eye out for excerpts, but in the meantime, swoon over the cover and blurb.

Book one in the Ivory Towers Series

Sparks fly between jaded film TA, Shane, and tough-acting freshman, Angel. Shane gives Angel the sex he craves, but struggles to be the man he needs.

Shane’s too old for Angel. Even if Angel weren’t a freshman in Shane’s Intro to Film class, the kid would be too closeted, too confused, too darn changeable and needy. But when Shane sees the pain lurking behind Angel’s tough exterior, he can’t help but reach out to him and give in to the desire in those scared, brown eyes.

Pacific Rim University may as well be another planet from the Oakland neighbourhood where Angel grew up. Angel’s fought all his life to get respect, and to stay hard in the eyes of his friends back home. Always the weird kid, Angel was the guy who never hooked up with girls. Meeting his very sexy, very male Film TA, Angel starts to understand why. He refuses to admit he’s gay, but he lives for every one of Shane’s smiles.

When Shane takes Angel to task for his insolent attitude, Angel can’t resist pushing his TA further. He wants Shane to show him, force him, make him accept all the feelings battling around in his mind and his body. But Angel doesn’t just need sex. He needs a man who can help him navigate the new and very raw landscape of his feelings.

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The Demise of the Seven Day Bra-Free Challenge (aka Daisy Has a Tantrum)

Sorry I missed my update yesterday, guys. Most of the day went fine, with me getting assloads of work done and even spending an unholy amount of time on the stairmaster bra-free.

But then I started getting mastitis. Again. A-FUCKING-gain. **stomps angrily gnashing my teeth**

I’m so freaking sick of this effin surgery recovery!!!!! It’s been two months already, and any time I get into a really good swing of writing like a mad-ass crazy person, I start to get an infection. Does my body not understand? I *need* the mania and buzzy feeling to write well! I can’t eat a balanced diet, and rest when I’m tired, and take breaks and still be productive. The awesome comes from the crazy. That’s where it’s born.

And anyway, if I can’t work too hard, play too hard, and write too hard, what fun is life?

Apparently, all it takes is a day or two of flying happily on endorphins for my immune system to decide, “Oh, doesn’t seem like you need us right now. We’ll just pack up our white blood cells and go home, shall we?”

Fuck it. No more elective surgery for me. Yeah, I like my less-droopy boobs, and I do feel more comfortable in a bathing suit, but I’m not sure I’d voluntarily do something like this again. I’m clearly not cut out for the taking it easy you need for a speedy recovery.

Honestly, I don’t know how celebrities do it. Because you know they must have a surgery like every year. They must be made of tougher stuff than I.

Yours in recovery (yet again),

Daisy

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Bra-Free Seven Day Challenge: Day 4

Gotta make today’s update quick, fair readers, because my kids just got back from spring break, and my husband’s not far behind, but I wanted to check in to let you all know how I’m hanging in there.

*Har-da-har-har*

I didn’t leave the house today. Like, literally, which is weird for me. But I did have a realization… Going Braless is like dyeing your hair a new color, you need to figure out which parts of your wardrobe fit with your new look and which clothes don’t work anymore. I have only a few shirts that look what I would call “good” if worn without a bra. Should I decide to extend my braless experience beyond a week I may pick up a few more. Otherwise? I can rotate through the same clothes for a few days just fine.

The weirdest part of the day was when my family got home because I felt like they’d say something about my being braless. Thus far, my kids haven’t. Not sure about their dad yet. I *think* the husband will notice. It’s, like, his JOB to look at my boobs, right? Well, I’ll have to see when he gets home.

Oh, and I did yoga twice today but neither time very aggressively. To be honest, I was so wrapped up in edits I haven’t thought about much else. I guess that’s one of the morals of bra-free living, eventually you stop noticing you’re not wearing a bra.

Still living free and hanging loose…

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Bra-Free Seven Day Challenge: Day 3

Oh God, oh God, I want to put a bra back on SO BADLY!!!!!!!! *Primal scream*

The best I can do is not think about it. I’ll just ignore it until the feeling goes away, because this is why I called it A Challenge. Did I think it would be easy to break the brassiere-wearing habit? For f*ck’s sake, I’ve been wearing a bra every day since 5th grade. I feel naked, deformed, old, and unattractive. I don’t even feel like a woman anymore, but some weird floppy being who’s all misshapen.

**Deep breath**

I’m pushing through, though, dear readers. And I’ve realized my mistake. Today, I tried to wear a fitted, scoop neck thermal. The thing is with clingy material–my boobs aren’t where they are supposed to be (aka lifted) so the shirt looked all wrong. At least to my eyes. And though the waffle-esque material hid my nipples somewhat, they were still too visible for my taste.

Mostly what bugged me was how my boobs splay all wide to the sides. I guess bras do more than hoist, they jam your breasts together in front of you.

Regardless, if I want to survive this braless challenge, I need to stick to loose hippie shirts. Anything else just feels WRONG.

That’s all for today, fair readers. Hopefully, my tale tomorrow will be more uplifting.

Well…maybe “uplifting” is the wrong word.

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