I was enjoying my Sunday very peacefully until a certain someone decided to approach me a *third* time for an arrangement:

And so now this emotional rambly rant forms the basis of my first ever blog post. Whoop Dee Do!

This is certainly not how I planned it. But maybe, I need to let go of that perfectionist side of me. But also: can you really blame me?

When you operate in an environment where you could be the reason someone loses a chunk of their estate because you missed one obscure line in some tax by-law … well, then you would also be enslaved by the need for a perfect result. Honestly, impossible. And yet, I’m still wondering how restaurants get that signature dish right. every. single. time.

But, I digress.

Onto the theme of this evenings subject matter: NO.

I don’t know how high of a mountain top I need to shout this from but I.Am.Not.A.Sugarbaby.

Unless you have a specific domination kink where you would like to sign up for a premium subscription to daily mood swings and goalpost shifting (a suffering only I presently endure as the result of loving myself so toxically and always pushing myself harder the next day) - I’m really not the lady for you.

I’ve honestly tried but I’m simply not mouldable or compliant for that sort of thing. I just want to be FREE.

I don’t particularly want to do anything with that Freedom -besides just being ‘still’ in the state of it.

I can’t suffer Father’s Day with your judgmental adult children shooting me daggers across the 10ft long Mahogany dining room table.

I can’t suddenly ‘get in the mood’ because you decided to pop a Viagra without giving me a heads up - although I must give you 1h notice of my ‘spontaneous horniness’ in advance. I also really don’t want to deal with you feeling ‘rejected’ because I just want to lie alone in the townhouse hot tub with a double Macallan in my fingertips.

I can’t suffer your perverted rookie C-Suite boardroom cuck colleagues trying to offer me a MacBook Pro if I just agree to sneak into their hotel room while you are asleep. How insulting! (To both of us -really,now. Wow)

I can’t deal with having to explain why I blew $100 000 dollars on the credit card on new Mags, surround sound and more Aquazurra heels in whatever is their EU size equivalent of size SA 6 (hint hint, please?☺️). I’m an audiophile and you will simply never know the thrill of cruising at 220 in the deep midnight blue sky with the base speaker volume on MAX! I certainly don’t have to explain anything to myself when I do ‘stupid’ things with my own debit card (not to be mistaken for credit, at least, not at this elementary building block stage of minimal leverage).

And I *certainly* can’t deal with you being imminently constantly worried that I’ll leave you for someone younger because you’re worried that you’re getting ‘older’ and so I have to pay for your insecurities by being your emotional dumping ground for perpetuity…. Even though I certainly would never everrrrr let you touch me if I wasn’t intensely attracted to you to in the first place. Baby…

No.

The answer is no.

And no again. There is no amount of money to justify a Golden Cage.

The answer will still be NO.

Because surely by now you know, it’s not about the money…

I just want to be Free in a World of never ending: national, state, federal, municipal, body corporate, corporate, tax, financial, compliance, rules and regulations. Everywhere. Endless. Comply, comply, comply, comply - or else!!

*Best free licensed portrait style gavel hammer I could find in a pinch*

It’s possible: I may not be as wealthy as you but I’m likely free-er than you.

Stop trying to take that away from me.

Please.

-END RANT-

In other news: I am working on an ‘Invest’ page that will be available here as soon as I can get a break from the corporate plantation.

Kindly note that this is not a traditional ‘Gift List.’ Rather, it is a curated list of items that I intend to treat myself with - to which your assistance is most welcome and appreciated. I also want to avoid a situation where you think you are treating me to a Chanel handbag on a common innocent misconception, and then I find myself having to bite my tongue in an attempt to be diplomatic and letting you know that it’s not really my style ...while you are down 6k. Eish.

Anyway, by ‘investing’ in Miss Serena Jones, you are most welcome to join me in treating myself sooner rather than later.

Despite my cheeky tone right now, I would actually be most grateful and appreciative 🤭

Really and Truly.

Sincerely yours,

Serena

💛

Note to myself:

Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.

Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.

I love you, Serena. Some scrumptious dude told you that Passion for life has no need for vanity and now you have your English teacher rolling in her grave in Birmingham because you have finally realised that it’s better to publish what is ready than to procrastinate for impossible perfection.

Touché my girl. You’re almost ready for the next level xx