Sometimes when I tell my truth, I get this said to me –
“If it was so bad, how come you are not dead.”
There is no answer to that.
Maybe it was luck. Maybe I just dodge the bullets.
I am alive, that’s all I can say. But it was not because the sex trade give a damn whether I lived or not.
No, I would surviving the sex trade is inconvenient, and for surviving and choosing to speak out, I am treated as if I would better off dead.
I am not meant to remember what happened to me if I am alive. If I do remember, I should not say out loud and so often.
If I am alive, then my words must be lies or just deluded. My words are not of the common practice of the sex trade, for it cannot be that violent.
To say that violence underpins the sex trade in the vast majority of it’s businesses must show I am mentally ill. For can’t I see it is harmless fun.
And the classic is throw at me, that I enjoy being prostituted, and now I have new friends I am ashamed to admit that.
Well, all I can say that however much supporters of the sex trade try to re-invent my past, I do remember and know that I was tortured, I was raped beyond the point I could count the johns raping me. I was made to nothing.
And instead of dying, I survive.
Deal with it.
I did not commit suicide. God, I longed for death so much and so often. I did not die, though I lost caring whether I lived. I did cut myself, I did drink to death and I did take overdoses.
But I lived.
I did not die from the injuries that johns put on me. I did not die from being strangled. I did not die as I raped anally till I had a heart attack. I did not die as a john raped me in the mouth, anus, vagina and held my throat. I did not die from all the bashing ups.
I just kept living.
I was not murdered. But I lived in a world where women and girls were murdered by johns, and no-one give a damn.
I give a damn, and in living I will always remember that their lives were stolen.
Being alive and knowing the reality of the sex trade is a very truth.
The whole industry wants to be viewed as just “adult entertainment”, that it has little or no violence, and treats it’s “employees” with respect and dignity.
Women who remember and know the violence and coldness that is the sex trade are destroying that image.
When I speak out, I feel the urgency that so many prostituted women and girls are dying to feed the endless greed of the sex trade.
So,sorry I am not dead. Sorry I am so damned inconvenient.
But I am alive. I will say what I know.
I am going nowhere.