seen from Uzbekistan

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Kazakhstan

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Thailand

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Romania

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Yemen
seen from Türkiye

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Living with a narc mother as a daughter…
One thing I’ve learned on this journey without my mom is how to survive without her.
Something she thought I’d never do.
When I hear other women’s stories about their relationships with their mom it really was an eyeopener for who my mother is.
Realizing she would take a man over her only child speaks volumes. Realizing that she would choose her vices over her only daughter. Realizing I was only a pawn to her not a human being.
Going no contact with my mother was not easy. How could it be when she was my everything. Being with her made me realize that isn’t what I wanted for my life. Being in her shadow and playing the role in her fantasy that she’s a great mother when she’s not.
Women my age have husbands and families now. I have a bunny and drive.. not even a car, that’s about it.
So for my mother to break no contact and in the email she tells me “may you found the peace you’re looking for- love you always and forever” without the “I” and you know how that I am an avid reader? That’s when I knew my mother did not know anything about her daughter. Her only daughter.
Not knowing or caring enough for your only child’s safety regardless of who they are with and how old they are is concerning. Not knowing if your only child had a meal that day is concerning.
Hard pill to swallow is my mother hates me. But I can’t take that personally because what she feels about me is not how I feel about me, and she will never get to experience what is like to be me and the circumstances I’m in. Everyday when I neglect myself is the pain I inflict onto myself by how I was raised.
Pain
Unseen
Somewhere in between
Pushing us to
A place we once knew
Through time
Through space
Deep sorrow
Like no tomorrow
Throbbing
Sobbing
Aching
Waking
A new
Tlw
I Am Done.
Being a victim of my circumstances I hold the power I am capable of doing so And I'm thankfully in the position To be able to Do something about it That isn't temporary

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The Tree Stands Tall
As the paint begins to chip the faucets steady their drip. The tree stands tall.
As the floors they strain and creak. Larger pipes protrude and leak. The tree stands tall.
As the crumbling of the walls Dislocation in the halls. The tree stands tall.
Steering in the ship Returned another trip. The tree stands tall.
No longer feeling weak. Free of misery overcoming defeat. The tree stands tall.
Heeding of the calls. Guided steps deter the falls. The tree stands tall.
~Odalys M.~
Self
She used to believe
that she could find her Self
if she searched enough
beneath muscle and tendon,
under the tissue,
behind the bone,
or pressed deep
into electric matter
buried beneath
dreams and neurons.
But she was seeking
and digging
all wrong.
It was shattered into fragments.
Scattered in the dirt.
Gathered up in parchments,
strewn in straw behind barns.
And it could take a lifetime
but if she could find it
maybe then she could love it.
So she started searching
in the dust that scatters
from the moth’s wing at night.
In words and paper
pencil and pigment.
In the tears of strangers
and friends
and enemies.
In the moss on a cobblestone
and bark on the tree.
In the remnants of stars
and dew of the dawn.
To unearth her Self
from the corners
and the cracks
the open fields
and rusted gates,
clay in the earth
and marble on the headstone.
Gathering the fragments,
dusting off the dirt.
Reading the old parchments,
sifting through the straw
and spending her whole lifetime
because if she can find it
then she can learn to love it.