I have hit a blank – a blank of fear and grief.
Words cannot fall on the page, so I will write to my blank and see what happens.
I have waking up into deep sadness, waking into a blank of terror of knowing too much for words to fit what I am thinking.
I was a Whore – I write now to the meaning of that, the meaning that leaves me so blank.
A saying that leaves an open wound, a wound that refuses to heal –
Once a whore, always a whore.
I know this to be true – and it silences me when I cannot write.
I am very proud of this blog and all the work I do because of it – but sometimes I bloody of dragging round that I was prostituted, that now I have become the role of the exited woman.
It is a role I can do, it is a role that I am proud and very honoured to do – but it is a role where I am terrified of losing myself in.
I am scared I will never know or find who I really am – am I ever more than the role of the Whore whether exited or not?