What is play? It's the thing you do with your kids on a Saturday morning without checking your phone. It's the game your dog brings you the ball for, over and over, always ready for the next throw. We protect play for the people and creatures we love — instinctively, without question. So when was the last time someone protected it for you? Better yet, when was the last time you protected it for yourself? If you're asking why your sex life feels stale, flat, or disconnected — I'd bet you aren't playing enough. In bed or anywhere else.

We used to search for them in the backyard, in the gap between tree roots, in the shimmer at the edge of a puddle. We whispered about dragons on the playground. We built whole worlds out of blankets and cardboard and pure, unfiltered imagination. And then one day, we became the adults. And somewhere in the middle of becoming them, we stopped looking. We lost our sense of wonder the moment we became fully aware that we were people — people with reputations to manage, histories to repeat, expectations to meet. The world handed us a script and we took it. We put the magic down. We told ourselves we'd pick it up again someday.

We haven't.

When's the last time you did something purely because it delighted you? Not because it was productive, not because it made sense on paper — just because it made you feel more like you. If you had to think hard about that answer, this one's for you. We spend enormous energy managing how we're perceived, editing ourselves before we even fully know who we are. The fear of judgment keeps us performing. And when we're performing, we can't explore. You can't discover who you actually are when you're too busy managing other people's opinions of who you seem to be.

Read about what community looks like for me, and how I’m gently building my village in a world that often feels loud and overwhelming.