I am not sure how to write this post – all I know it has round and round for months now.
I have become angry at the concept that I was an “unwilling” or “forced” prostituted girl/woman. Whilst that was true with hindsight, it was far more confusing when I was in the life.
I write this because I believe I was normal in denying that I was prostituted. I was normal in believing it was my choice, and resenting anyone who said otherwise.
I cannot see a real difference between willing and unwilling prostituted women and girls – all are owned by the sex trade, all are living porn for johns.
The only difference is having to believe that is what you are, and to believe that and to stay sane it is vital to think you enjoy and choose the life.
Humans adapt to torture in many situations – we know of the Stockholm syndrome, we are not surprise that hostages adapt, we saw how many adapted to concentration camps. This we see, and now it is wrong, even when the individuals speak words that “it was ok”.
We do not take their word on face value.
Humans are easy to brain-wash. All have to place in a situation where hope is pointless, where resistance is just laugh at and then begin re-molding their reality.
Say it their idea to be in this situation, if it so bad, why don’t run away. Say this whilst blocking every exit. To be skilled at brain-washing, say the individual is too stupid to find an exit.
Say that the individual enjoys being degraded, loves violence.
This are just a few tactics of the sex trade.
Hell, everyone knows prostituted women and girls were born with the urge to have violent sex, to be placed in life-threatening situations and cannot be degraded.
This must be true, for “normal” women and girls would not accept such behavior.
So, the sex trade imprints into the minds of women and girls that make into goods to be fucked, battered and murdered.
The sex trade has made an art form of making women and girls have self-hate and then believing that all they are living porn for any man to fuck.
It has made an art form of making all the violence that men do invisible.
If the violence seeps out to the public view – then there is the phrase “a few bad apples”.
A few bad apples rape prostituted women and girls.
A few bad apples murder prostituted women and girls.
A few bad apples don’t use condoms.
A few bad apples are pimps who beat up their goods, who rape their goods.
A few bad apples traffic women and girls both internally and nation to nation.
A few bad apples that use prostituted women and girls to make porn without paying them.
A few bad apples gang-rape.
A few bad apples sexually tortured prostituted women and girls.
A few bad apples are sex tourists, mostly wanting under-aged girls.
Hell – there is an infection of bad apples dominating the sex trade and it’s consumers.
All I know is I never knew of any good apples.
But if it can blame of a few men who break the “rules” of the sex trade, then we can all pretend it just an ordinary job.
Pretend the the employers really care about the conditions for prostituted women and girls.
Lets pretend briefly that is just sex work.
Lets not think that for the vast majority of prostituted women and girls that their “work” is being put in a room, and then whatever happens is ignored.
She is goods to be used in whatever way the “costumer” chooses.
She cannot be raped, she is not battered, she cannot complain of being put close to death, she can be film without any consent.
She is nothing – so why she have any rights.
He knows he all the power. It is his choice whether to rape her or not, whether to beat her up or just hold her, whether he play life and death games, if he wants to film a record of his sexual torturing – all that is his right, his freedom.
He knows it will hidden from the public gaze, so all his actions will have no consequences for him.
The sex trade thrives on guaranteeing it’s consumers privacy.
Whilst ripping away all privacy from prostituted women and girls. They are always on display – always most remain one-dimensional in order to survive.
Prostituted women and girls must always open to be fucked, that all they are.
I am finding this almost impossible to write, for it is too painful to express.
All I know is that words have no meaning when knowing prostitution from the inside out.
Remembering prostitution is remembering being trapped in the room with endless men who saw me as dirt.
Remembering prostitution is knowing to deaden hope.
Remembering prostitution is forgetting to care about safety, only to be surprise that you still alive and relatively unhurt.
Words fail me when I truly remember.
I have know hate at it’s coldest.
I have live inside torture and learnt to adapt.
All I know was to imagine that was all I was.
Now, the agony comes as I know that was an evil lie.
And every minute, prostituted women and girls are living inside that lie.