Holly Golightly

Him: Are you fine with us being sexually exclusive? Me in my head: Gago ka ba?

You have to ask me out again. I still want to know how you felt about broccoli as a kid, if you ever mistook it for a tiny tree, gave it a name, and built forests on your plate. Did you ever refuse to eat it, or did you love it in a way that confused your parents? Is that where it began: this quiet rebellion that led to you becoming a vegetarian? I want you to tell me what you think about as you lie in bed at night. Are your thoughts sharp-edged and circling, or do they rock you gently toward sleep? Do they terrify you? Or free you? Do they sound like your voice, or someone else’s entirely? I still want to ask if you stay kind when someone pushes your buttons. Can you recognize the moment anger arrives, and choose stillness over reaction? And if your future child told you they felt different in their skin, would you meet them in that space without flinching? I want to know if you're as attuned to the world around you as you are to the one within. See, I wonder if you noticed my fingernails pressed so hard into my palm they left little half-moons. I wonder if you caught the way I trembled as you spoke. Do your second dates always touch these places, or was this unusual for you too? Do you really wade that easily into the things that haunt you? And finally, I want to know if you felt it too. The palpable weight of our confessions, the depth we allowed ourselves to reach, that charged stillness hanging in the air like something waiting to be named—did it follow you home? Because I need to know if I wasn’t alone in it. And that’s something I’ll only know, if you ask me out again. #Thursday

I’m Holly Golightly, the literary version, not the film. Thought I was Gatsby, but recently realized I’ve always been Daisy, or maybe even Jordan. To some extent, I’m also Vargas Llosa’s Bad Girl and Hemingway’s Lady Brett Ashley.

I operate in male-dominated spaces, and it's not uncommon for me to be the only female at the negotiation table. At times, it's frustrating to be held to a higher standard. But the next multibillion-dollar deal is always around the corner, so we dust ourselves off and forge ahead.

Just last night... Him: When was the last time you had sex? Me: Over a year ago.

Last night: Tonight: Tagaytay

Being a girl is so fun. Just when I start thinking that I might be capable of genuinely liking someone, some guy comes along to fuck that foolish idea right out of me.

Lately on my evening excursions, I’ve been going full floral. I start with a lather of B&BW Rose & Vanilla and follow it up with LUSH’s Ro’s Argan body conditioner. After shower, I moisturize with Sol de Janeiro 68 Elasti-Cream to help the fragrance adhere to the skin. I seal it all in with NUXE’s pink body oil, then finish with a generous spritz of PDM Delina Exclusif. The layering helps with the projection, and I like this little pre-date ritual.

Witnessed this live last night. Had to force myself to look straight ahead. Those arms wtff. 🔥🔥🔥

After he dropped me off near midnight, I spent a few good minutes just standing in the middle of the room, letting it all wash over me, flushed from the wine and from being near him, and thinking about how everyone else pales beside him.

Let's not waste a good question. Currently, Nishane Ani and oud. Which fictional character do you relate to the most?

If you don't hype me up like this when I share pics of the guys on my roster, are we even friends?

I'm a millennial who’s been running around with a largely Gen Z crowd. Yesterday, one of them said to me, "Look at my crush’s IG story. I think he has a crush on someone right now. It’s a crush food chain." Crush. food. chain. Never change, Gen Z.

I like clean lines, checklists, the Aptos font, and schedules that align. I tuck fresh laundry into drawers while still warm and rerack my weights at the gym. I find that sorting each connection into its own compartment is a comforting process: friend, colleague, emergency contact, lover, liability, prey. After months of casual hangs, including sitting down to dinner with my circle, you finally take your rightful place. And as I pulled away from that initial kiss, you murmured, "I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you," and I knew: Soft distraction.

This week's buys: BDK Gris Charnel Extrait PDM Delina Exclusif - repurchased because I left my bottle in my room in Bali

One down, two to go. The last of the three is someone I actually have a crush on, and I’ve learned that the more I like someone, the softer my flirting game gets. I’ve only gone out with him once before, and I swear I could hear Taylor Swift songs in my head right after.

I’m a product of years of therapy. Not for depression specifically, though I’ve had a few depressive episodes. I was on anticonvulsants, antipsychotics, anxiolytics, SSRIs, you name it, to help manage comorbidities. Additionally, because there are no medications specifically approved to treat my personality disorders, I had to rely on wellness strategies and lifestyle changes. (You like my personality? Great, it's a disorder.) That was 10 years ago. Now, I no longer meet the criteria for the diagnoses. Bottom line is, therapy works, but you have to stick with it. Also, it's okay to take the pills.

Two exes told me that if Hozier's Take Me to Church were a person, it would be me.

I can't say it's my favorite, but I like listening to Lana Del Rey's Chemtrails Over the Country Club.

I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart, I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat. - Jorge Luis Borges

When guys talk to their friends about something they're obsessed with.

My posts might suggest that I have a hectic sex life, but I actually have a hard time finding someone I'm sexually attracted to. I could easily go over a year without sex, rather than sleep with just anyone.

Flirted a bit too hard today, and now I have three dates lined up for the next seven days.

Am I a feminist? Yes. Would I let a man get so rough with me that it borders on assault? Also yes.

Not having someone who would let me nibble on his earlobes and grind on his thigh while he works on his laptop, completely ignoring me.