It means so much to me that an extraordinary amount of people wrote me with letters of support, encouragement, or stories of similar experiences to what happened to me last week. I really felt that I was *alone* in my surreal spiritual first-hand experience last week. I was AMAZED at the outpouring of replies from people who shared personal stories of how people they knew went through almost exactly what I went through and almost all of them have one thing in common. Spiritual experiences can sometimes be perceived as disorders because, frankly, those who haven’t yet reached that level of enlightenment think *we’re* the crazy ones. It’s a beautiful thing to surrender to spirituality and the path I’ve been on is one I’d travel over and over again.

I allow myself to be an easy target, which is why I sometimes receive cruel letters from good people who are deeply insecure. I’ve been called everything from a fat whore to a hypnotist pig to an unfit scary person. Those letters make me more beautiful, so keep sending them! Ironically, one person wrote me today and said I shouldn’t be allowed to do my profession and should change my field. That struck me as funny actually. Didn’t I just mention two entries ago I wanted to change my profession to become a medical doctor? It’ll take years till that’s accomplished, but it’s important to have dreams. Not just that… but it seems equally humorous that one would assume that doctors, hypnotists, well… any profession for that matter… never get sick or get illnesses. Although some might call it denial, I still don’t think I’m sick, and in fact think I am perfectly well (and yes, I can still admit I went 3 nights sleep deprived which may have resulted or been symptoms of the hallucinations). If I were bipolar, I would have really high highs and really low lows. If I had a history of low-low’s then sure, I could see that. But I’ve been consistently high for two years. It’s like an adrenaline rush most of the time and it’s like I’ve been injected with shots of euphoria. The times I’ve been sad, which haven’t been many, lasted at most, two days and they were justified - whether my cat was in the hospital or someone broke up with me or moved out or whatever. So let’s see. In the last 5 years, I’ve experienced tremendous sadness for maybe a total of 10 days. Each one felt justified for sadness. When friend Aaron died, my heart needed to mourn. When my cat was in the hospital (twice), I kept my composure but still felt an ache. When I’ve had relationship troubles, sure I’d cry. It means a lot to me that people have written me and said that’s normal and we ALL go through that. We wouldn’t be human if we never experienced sadness.

Sadness and depression are two different things. I don’t think I’ve lived one depressed day of my life. Not even when I was a child. Sometimes I actually wish I WERE depressed simply so I could reach out to people who ARE depressed so I can help them out of it. Sometimes I wish I could take all the pain and misery from every person on earth and carry it on my shoulders just so other people could feel WELL and ALIVE. But that’s not my purpose during Earth-game. Right now I’m here to help people relieve sexual stress and tension. That’s why erotic hypnosis comes so naturally to me. Fetish is my middle name. Fantasy is where I live. I’m glad that God has a sense of humor with me and allows me to be a sexual Goddess in this game of life because every sign in the world seems to tell me I’m on the right path.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m far from perfect. Sometimes I pretend to be. It’s a game I play. Lately, though, I’ve been stuffing my face with humble pie and the humility tastes really good. I even gave my slave a blowjob this morning for the first time - ever. I did it because I love him and I’m confident enough in my dominant personality to not let labels prevent me from exploring my submissive side too. Anyone who read my journal entries from five years ago knows I was submissive long before I was a dominant. Great mistresses/masters were likely great submissives. How else will the one in charge know what the slave wants? It takes one to know one. Great leaders were likely great followers. It’s how they learned to speak to others and convince them to come along. Great hypnotists were likely great listeners. Great doctors were likely great patients. Now I want to be a doctor because I know what it’s like to need treatment. I know how I want to reach people. I felt that one of the doctors was quite rude to me because he wouldn’t listen to me. I want to be one of those doctors who makes a lifelong positive impact on people’s lives and takes the time to listen and connect with patients. Most doctors, in my opinion, are good people. However, if more of them took communication classes - patients would likely experience healing at a more accelerated rate.

I could write forever. When my fingers design the words that sculpt a brand new journal entry, I get lost in translation. Interpretation is where I tiptoe though, because everyone has different opinions. I only write because I want to connect. It’s hard to find brutally honest people who lay everything out there. It’s a vulnerable journey. If I weren’t vulnerable, I doubt I’d be this successful. If I weren’t honest, my customers would probably see me as “just another erotic hypnotist” or “just another domme on the internet.” There are days all I want to do is put my real name out there instead of hiding behind the fictious name, “Isabella Valentine.” Friends and family say using a stage name is the smart, safe, and cautious thing to do. Others say it’ll benefit future paths to remain cloaked, since I’m technically in the adult field. But I gotta admit, it sucks sometimes to have a real name and a fake name. Thankfully, the two personas overlap nicely and what I believe, Isabella believes. Is it just a name? When I created the character of Isabella Valentine, I gave her a fake birthday and a fake city to live in and fake interests, because I wanted people to like her. However people liked me more when I was honest. And my income more than quadrupled just by showing vulnerability. For years, I’ve poured honesty onto the pages and many people lurk my blog without commenting. Sometimes people have nothing to say. Sometimes they have everything to say but don’t know how to say it. Who is my audience? Anyone who wants to know me.

I’m past the point of trying to impress people. The life I live is the one I’ve designed myself. And everyone has the ability to do the same thing. That’s the difference between someone confident and someone snobby. A confident person thinks, “I’m great and so is everyone else.” And a snob thinks, “I’m great and no one else is.” I can tell you right now that all I want to do is empower people. It turns me on (even sexually) to watch people become their best selves. In the last year, I’ve humbly learned that I cannot change people. Sure everyone knows this age-old secret, but it doesn’t mean I believed it. I can reframe opinions, sure. But a person only changes if they want to change. And THAT is why I’ve learned to find humor in replies from insecure people who send, what I call “target letters,” designed to get a rise out of me. The only rise I might get is a hard clitty.

This does beg the question, are our emotions solid? I can’t help but doubt it. If I had a penny for each time I’ve changed my mind, evolved, or changed my perspective, I think I’d be a trillionaire by now. Answers I gave a month, a year, or five years ago will certainly appear differently now. I certainly hope so, too! If we aren’t willing to improve by changing our minds, how can we be role models for our voyeurs? It takes a strong person to be willing to change course on a different life path. More power to them! If they happen to hallucinate along the way cause they’re having a beautiful spiritual experience, then by all means introduce me to them!

Love
Isabella
xoxoxox