The most frustrating aspect of writing as an exited woman is how so much to support the sex trade is repeated over and over and over and over again,
For those who gained by the status quo of the sex trade, be they pimps, so-called business folks, punters, the media, the film and TV world, male novelists, lawyers, the police and in the end the vast majority of society – will repeat the same old mantras, thinking by repetition it becomes true.
Most of the concepts and expressions repeated are used to keep the prostituted as sub-humans, to keep them as goods to be examined and then toss away.
There may be the facade of caring, of saying it is for the good of the prostituted that we repeat reasons to keep the prostitute in the position of the slave.
I will try in this post to write to some of the most common stuff that is throw at exited women who dare to challenge the status quo of the sex trade – who dare to stand for their human rights, and the safety and dignity of all the prostituted class.
I will try not to be too angry, try to be patience, try to understand your willful ignorance.
That will very hard – for as you repeat your mantras, the prostituted are being raped, are being tortured, are being made into nothing.
As you speak nonsense – there is a genocide of the prostituted class that you make invisible.
So forgive me, if I have lost patience with constant demanding that exited women hear your reasons that we choose to be inside that hell.
Forgive me if my anger gets in the way of your explaining my own life to me.
I had to stop writing this blog for some time, for the pain of having ignorance coming at me was getting too much.
I became afraid I would angry with the wrong people.
I made the choice to give myself treats – for I am now 50, and I needed to reward that I have survive a hell very few could imagine.
I give myself permission to be happy, to be self-indulgent – to refresh my essence that was close to drowning.
I had to have time out – I had to find the reason to be fully alive.
I was drowning inside the repeated noises made about what prostitution must be – never what it is, only an illusion so no changes are made.
The common refrain is – it the oldest profession.
What does means? And if it means anything, what on earth does it prove?
It is used to say it must be “work”, a legitimate employment – so that makes all ok then.
It is said as a response to exited women saying it was slavery, saying their human rights were stolen, saying they were made into goods.
And the reply is – it is work , it is a noble profession it is a sacred duty – heck, why aren’t exited women full of pride for the service they have given all men.
Often the concept of the oldest profession is align with language of the prostituted being like goddesses or great sexual healers.
I, so many other exited women, never notice or felt those great powers. I do not remember having supernatural powers.
Heck, if I had been a goddess – there were more useful and important things I would have done with that power.
I would have gone back in time so I was never abused by my stepdad, never saw hard-core porn, never lined up in a sex club, was never gang-raped, never did Boyfriend Material – never know nothing about the world of the sex trade.
I would have used my power to harm the punters that torture me, to kill the profiteers that sold me.
I would have used my power to free each and every prostitute.
I would not use my power to be a living porn-toy for each and every punter to force in his hatred of all women.
I would not have my power wasted by giving punters endless orgasms – despite my pain, fear and confusion.
There is nothing supernatural about being a prostitute – only men choose to invent a world of whore goddesses, so they can ignore human pain, suffering, humiliation and deep sorrow, as they have free rein to torture the prostituted class.
I am very tired now – I will write again soon.