I am very proud of this blog, and all the work associated with it – but I also feel very isolated, and often abandoned.
I know it a long and exhausting road to my dream of full abolition of the sex trade, and it may not occur in my lifetime.
I know that exiting from the sex trade is lonely and deeply isolating experience – and living in extreme complex trauma is a battle only a survivor can fully know.
But, but, but –
I also know there are many exited women who are isolated, and like me fighting with determination and deep warrior strength to bring about real change for all the prostituted.
We need each other in many and often complex ways.
We have so much to offer the abolitionist movement if we had the mental energy to give it.
But with isolation comes deep frustration, a constant self-doubt often entering the danger-zone of self-hate.
I know exited women have an inner strength that others can only see the surface level of – we are experts at hiding our vulnerability, our fears, our nightmares, our body memories – we hide our deep wounds, and put on the face of constant campaigner.
But we are tired, we are only speaking words that you can understand, we are not speaking in the screaming heart of our realities.
How do you speak the authentic language of our prostituted souls – when we are kept isolated, without long-term solid support.
I want and need more time with exited women.
I need the space to rant about the everyday ignorance, insulting language, and general keeping the prostituted class as sub-humans.
I need the space for the graveyard humour that only exited women can hear and relate to.
I need space for our deep grief that we know the insides of all forms of tortures, that we have been raped so often that no language is left to enclose it, that we live inside a trauma that map out our daily lives.
I want to go out and drink with exited women – I want our spirit that celebrate every moment we have the luck to be alive, to build a life no punter or sex trade profiteers can destroy.
I want some kind of holding, some form of sisterhood of our broken pasts and hoped for futures.
I want and need that love and non-judgement only my exited sisters can give.
I want to know my work reaches my exited sisters – and they want me inside their lives.
Am I expecting too much?