the blog

One Year, Eight Months

 I began doing body rubs two years ago, following a brutal divorce that left me with no resources and no support system. I had hoped to amass as much as possible of both and end my foray into the sex industry by the end of a year. I planned to buy a car, rent a home, retain a lawyer, and then put my clothes back on and clean houses for a living.

And I did all that. Minus the lawyer.

But then I dated another shitty guy who left me in the same shitty position and, like in a shitty game of Chutes and Ladders, I slid all the way back to square one.

I started the second round defeated. That I had bounced through the same hell with a smile thirteen months before did nothing to embolden me. I had lived this, I had conquered this, and at no fault of my own, I was living it again. Favorite hamster to a sadist.

I could feel that people were embarrassed for me. Worried about me. Disappointed in me. I guess I was too. I had been so idealistic and sure and people believed in me, said I inspired them. I was somehow above the industry in my own mind, and maybe in theirs. “I don’t see you as a…”

It’s been tough to come to terms with everything that I’ve been through, and tough to stand up and say that I’m proud of who I am, no matter what. Because I am always who I need to be. It’s been tough to not feel myself diminished by the labels people slap on girls in my position. Because at the end of that first year, I was no longer just passing through, and my sob story wasn’t gonna save me from the stigma. I was a pro. I am.

But I believe in people, that they do the best they can, and that their best can only be better when they embrace who they are right now, flaws and all. So I’m tired of walking around with my head hung, apologizing to the ignorant for their own lack of understanding. I want to enjoy my life, there is so little of it left before my eternity in nothingness. I’m not sorry, and neither should anyone be for just being who they are.

I’m reminded of a girl I came across those two years ago, clicking through the ads on Adult Search before posting the first of my own. I thought she looked like a brick. All straight lines everywhere and solid with a hard stare. Not mean, just impenetrable. So confident despite her disposition that I guessed she must be spectacular in the world.

She was a pro. I didn’t know how to feel about her, I teetered between disgust and envy. Now I’m stealing her website-with-online-booking idea and mixing myself into a brick. I still don’t know how I feel about us, and I still think we must be amazing.