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She is not ordinary—so loving her is not an ordinary experience.
It’s entrancing and strange, transformative and lush.
It’s at once pure, high-voltage electricity and soft, pink flowers that become fleshy, blossoming fruits.
It’s the grit of concrete edges, the swaying, resplendent tone of being truly seen.
To love a mermaid is to feel it all—
Yes, everything.
The salt of tears, of wisdom, of joy.
It is to dive deep, to the parts of the ocean where phosphorescent coral reefs lie luscious, waiting to be discovered like ancient treasure.
It is to drop your thick, exhausting armor and the chains of all that hold you back.
It is to know that when we break, death happens, sure—but transformation happens, too.
For in the rich darkness of that soil
New buds, new galaxies
Burst forth with the brave fire of fresh, dewy life.
And we can be all the better, all the wiser for being broken.
To love a mermaid is to dance with your shadows.
It is to face the cold, hard, beautiful truth.
It is to take responsibility for yourself.
It is to peer inside those tender, locked spaces you hide from and see that they simmer with secret power.
It is to bow down to the mystery of life and delight in the emerald seaweed that swirls in ribbons all around her.
To love a mermaid is to give up trying to know everything with your mind. (Stop it, already.)
It is to feel the delicious ache of your raw thirst for the invisible, the unfathomable, the ineffable.
It is to enjoy the wide forests of her multi-faceted flavors—weird, straight-up bizarre, wild, soft, fierce, loving, kind, sexy, angry—all of it.
It is to crave the crisp thrill of new adventure, the warm, exhilarating breeze that beckons when you least expect it.
It is to face your sh*t.
To love a mermaid is to get real.
It is to know yourself, before you can truly know her.
It is look at yourself, before you can truly look at her.
So when you see her, you will not be seeing the thin hologram of your own hopes or expectations or fears—
You will be seeing the vivid, full-bodied magic, the beauty, the wildness that flows forth like a fierce waterfall from her eyes.
To love a mermaid is undeniable—but it is not for the faint of heart.
It is not for those who grasp and claw, who like to be glued to their lover.
For she will need to walk alone sometimes
To swim in those deep, aquamarine waters she is born from, where she must always return.
To love a mermaid is to know where you end and where she begins.
It is to respect her.
It is to give her space
To dive
To dream
To dance naked under pale silver strands of moonlight
To sing out loud with her siren sisters
To listen to the heartbeat of silence
To feel it all
To shed her skin
And transform.
To love a mermaid is to know that life will never be dull.
It will always glisten with something…unnameable.
Something not spoken with words, but felt in your gut in the language of goosebumps
Of dreams, of laughter, of distinct soul boldness, of sweaty, delicious kisses
Of pure, undiluted heart strength.
To love a mermaid is to know that you will never have her completely—
You will never own her, and you simply cannot mold her to your whims.
It’s impossible, so don’t try.
Appreciate her instead, delight in her weird, wild, feminine ways;
She will appreciate you, too—for who you really are
And it will feel so good.
It will feel like freedom.
To love a mermaid is to taste the deepest sort of love
That is woven in mutual respect
And healthy independence.
And from that solid core—the brightest flowers burst forth
To create the most wonderful intimacy you have ever known.
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