Parallel Universes

Sometimes I feel as if I exist in a parallel universe. I have worked in the sex industry for going on almost 15 years, and some of the horror stories I hear leave me floored, gasping for air at times. The absolutely cruelty of one human to another is sickening at times. But, even when I was working in the brothels of Germany, I would hear even then of girls getting into situations, and I would think, how the hell is that possible? Then, I realized what was the fundamental difference between me and some of the girls was. This was a job and work for me, I also had the entire support of my family! Everyone knew what I was up to. I would be seeing a client, and tell him hold on, I need to chat to my mom, or brother. I didn’t realize at the time I was in a very, very tiny minority. I thought everyone was like me, came in did her job, left when home to family, a good home cooked meal, and to help the little ones with homework and read bedtime stories. Remember I was in my 30’s when I started this work. Again, even when working with women who were vulnerable, they don’t cry out for help, or even hint that they are in trouble. Never do you see them crying on a shoulder or begging for help. They like me would come in do their job, and leave. Where they went to, no one knows.

I have always had the support of my family. Yup, they knew what I was doing, and as supportive as they were they worried, whenever they heard of something bad happening to a woman in my work, they would call me to  see if I was ok.

When I would tell someone I was working with, that my mother knew what I was doing, they would look at me in shock, and exclaim, “Your mother knows!?” It seemed natural for her to know, I mean she is my mother, why wouldn’t I tell her what I was up to, I wasn’t ashamed of being in a position to earn a living for myself. Then the penny dropped. What they were shocked at was the fact I wasn’t ashamed. I wasn’t hiding my head in the sand, I was quite proud to be a hooker, I was quite proud to care for my family. Sometimes I have to adjust to my inability to feel shame for being a hooker. I have tried, I have tried to feel guilty, I have tried to find the wrongness in what I do for a living, I have tried, but every time, I see the light of joy in the little ones eyes because they are happy. I can’t feel bad. I am over-joyed, I want to dance and sing, and shout it from the roof tops. I AM A HOOKER! I AM A PROSTITUTE! Yes, I do indeed, because I am so grateful for being in a position to earn a decent living on my terms. To come and go as I choose. To work when or if I want to work. This is a luxury I never take for granted. It is a precious thing indeed to be in a position of being able to take a week off, spend the day in my pajamas, order take out sushi, and just chill.

2 thoughts on “Parallel Universes

  1. God, you’re so lucky that your family know. I think the hardest thing about this is the duplicity – and the guys who don’t pull back their foreskins when the wash their dick…!x

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