Hell is a Place on Earth

In this post, I want to reach into my silence.

I am not sure if this will work, or even make sense. But to reach my place of hell, I have to dig deep.

I have no visual memory – when I think I see no images, only I surrounded by feelings or the lack of feelings.

I think I stop seeing coz my mind could hold the reality of hell, so it stored it inside the rest of my body.

So from that place of hell, I was given many gifts.

The gift of the agony of body memories speaking truths to my mind.

The gift of being too alert and sleeping that refuses to be too deep.

The gift of having dead emotions that cannot connect with others.

The hell that is named indoors prostitution – be that girlfriend experience, be that escorting, be that dancing for sex – that remains in every cell of my body.

I am proud to be an exited woman, proud that my blog reaches and changes so many, proud that I still am alive and moving in the right direction.

But the hell I have lived inside, never fully leaves me.

It is hell that grabs my throats choking me as I am determined to live.

It a hell in an endless sickness in my stomach.

It a hell that is laughing at my every effort to just be normal and free from the sex trade.

I fight each and every day for that freedom.

The route to freedom is long, hard and full of traps.

To be truly free from the sex trade and all it mental abuses, we need destroy it root and branch – not pussyfoot with endless discussions or bad laws.

Exited women – and men – need justice.

To have justice, we must see what that means. I can write from my point of view, but I hope my ideas connects with other exited folks.

Justice to me is real punishment for each and every man who makes the choice to consume the prostituted.

By punishment, I do mean a smallish fine and some therapy for punters.

Punters are not victims or unaware of the harms they are doing.

No they are criminals, usually vicious criminals.

Punters do not accidentally pick up a prostitute out of boredom, coz they are lonely or coz they too ugly to get a real woman.

No punters pre-plan buying the prostituted.

Most punters are in a stable relationship, punters are just greedy, callous and cold.

By justice, I mean punters should get prison sentences or at the least, be fined round a tenth of their earnings.

With true justice, it would punters who felt stigmatised – not the prostituted.

To have justice, all sex trade profiteers would be rotting in prison.

I think the minority of twenty years is some justice for choosing to make the prostituted into sub-humans.

All sex trade profiteers get their fortunes from allowing torture, serial rapes, mental abuse, and disappearances of the prostituted.

We must stop allowing human rights crisis.

All sex trade profiteers have made the choice to create a genocide – but all too often it made invisible by being labelled as adult entertainment.

If we choose to not see sex trade profiteers and punters as criminals, we are enabling this genocide.

This is not the time to be a voyeur as the prostituted as burning in hell.

Either stand with us and fight for real justice – or be honest with yourself, and say you can never see the prostituted as fully human, and deserving of full human rights.

I am tired of writing this.

Tired of speaking to genocide, speaking to torture, speaking to serial raping, speaking to mass disappearances of the prostituted.

Tired of helping others with complex trauma from years of punters making them sub-human .

Tired of living complex trauma, tired of sleep pattern going all the place.

Damned it, I am bloody tired that so few care enough to make real and permanent change for the prostituted.

So please do more, we are drowning.



Moving not Running

I am moving home from Manchester to Devon in a couple of months or so.

This is a major event for me, for it my choice, and for the first time in my life this move is not coz I have had to run away.

I am moving to get my mental and physical back on track.

I am moving to be have the good side of my family near me.

I can be a sister, an aunt and a friend to those who love me even when I test that love to it’s limits.

I want a big change, coz I gone as far as I go doing this work by myself.

I am tired of being isolated.

I am tired of just coping with extreme trauma.

I am tired.This change is very scary.

I have always lived and hidden in large cities, now I moving to a market town.

I am moving to a place where the residents are more visible to each, for instance shopping in Devon is slow for a city gal, for so many conversations are had.

I survived my life by keeping my head down, and fading into the background.

I need to learn it ok to chat with others, for it just a brief exchange, not a threat or a sign of vulnerability.

I want to make changes when I move, small changes that may bring the person I wanted to be if my youth had not been stolen.

I want to build on my love of popular culture, love of trivia and love of being in small moments that make a society.

I have always loved history and English literature, I want to find groups to feed that part of my brain.

I am obsessed with the joy of classic American films, not on the intellectual level, but for the stories and entertainment.

I want to go to sports events, say Plymouth Argyle, Somerset Cricket Club and Exeter for rugby.

As a child, I was a birdwatcher, as well badgers and foxes – maybe I can remember how to be that still.

I want to eat and drink out, and use that as a way to people watch and maybe chat. The pubs are great in Devon.

Mostly I want to be with my sister, who is the person who behind me in this move.

We have planned Wine Fridays, that she may teach me how to cook, and we will be in the same town but not in each other pockets.

I need to change, coz I more than the prostitution woman.

To do my work, I need many non-related things to do.

I am proud of this work, but it very draining and isolating.

So please know this move is scary but highly positive.


A Change Must Come

I write and speak for revolutionary change for all the prostituted.

I write to place our voices as independent and separate.

I have closeness to radical feminism – but I write as a radical exited women who make my centre the prostituted.

I have always been Left-wing – but I will never let leftism men off the hook for promoting and consuming the sex trade.

I am a atheist – but I place exited women who do the practical work to make real change, religious or not, above those who do little or nothing whilst labelling others.

I can understand the attraction of being a liberal feminist – but I cannot forgive how they constantly betrayed the prostituted through the language of choice and labour.

So – I speak in the voice of a radical exited woman.

My voice is a scream for radical change – not this snail pace of justice and freedom.

I look to Black Panthers, to the voices of indigenous peoples, to brief recorded voices of slaves as my deepest influences for my will to fight.

I feel betrayed by so many – by the many forms of feminisms, the myriad of the Left, by those who should and could hold up the prostituted but turn to more important causes.

Our betrayal is centuries old – as you turn to more fashionable causes, my prostituted Sisters are living inside the oldest and largest genocide humans have chosen to make.

I am exhausted, I am ill, I feel great despair as I see allies turn away.

I will start by saying do not think just backing the Nordic Approach is enough.

It is a good start, but with enforcement and long- term exiting programmes it is made pointless.

I need proof that it not just a constant debating point or if made law there is the minimum of punishment for punters, and an utter lack of specialist exiting programmes.

All too often the Nordic Approach is seen as a full stop, rather then a good beginning to true revolution.

I will try to explain my dreams of real revolution for all the prostituted.

This may vague, it may appear unattainable – but in this post, I want to speak to my burning inner voice that created my fight.

I speak to my inner voice that drags to the place of understanding that the only real revolution that matter is the complete destruction of every aspect of the sex trade and its supporters.

To really give the prostituted hope, freedom and justice – all Abolitionists must fight for that destruction.

We must stop making punters invisible or into misunderstood victims.

Each and every man who make the choice to be a punter is a criminal and capable of extreme violence.

He has made the choice to be a rapist usually a serial rapist.

He has made the choice to make another human his slave.

He has made the choice to be a torturer.

See punters as they are, not how you want them to be.

We must severely punish all sex trade profiteers – there is no reasons to sell human into the sex trade.

Stop their trade in its tracks.

Stand up to slave owners, stand up to their sadism, stand up to their lack of empathy –  they are cowards not monsters, we can stand up to their hate and fear.

We must place the voices of exited women to the front.

We are the bloodstream of why there must be abolition of the sex trade.

We are the witnesses, we have deep knowledge of male violence and control, we see and know what long- term torture does to our minds and bodies.

Our bodies map out the route to revolution.

Our bodies have witnessed the cold hate and anger of male violence in every cell.

Our bodies know there is nothing accidental when punters destroy the prostituted – it is always pre-planned and organised.

Our bodies know every torture that is called new, is a torture of many centuries of destroying the prostituted.

A small sign of hope is that slowly this torturing is being seen, and not made invisible as it was for most of history.

The only thing that is new in the sex trade the the forms of technology that spread it.

I feel despair – so my stop here.

Please do more, for doing little or nothing is to be part of a genocide.




Time Out of Time

To be prostituted is to have no sense of linear time.

Every moment is the present with no past or future.

Every moment is dragged out or just disappears in nothingness.

How can I remember when time is full of gaps.

Into that silence, my blog is attempting to find words that hold that time.

I see, I know the brief facts that I was in and out, out and in prostitution from aged 14 to 27.

I see, I know the brief facts that I did indoors prostitution – I was brought from pub, taken to flats or hotels, made to dance at club.

But this all in small memories, memories in my body forcing back the fear, grief and confusion.

I cannot place an age on these events.

I cannot see individual rooms, pubs or hotels.

I cannot see faces of punters.

All that is lost in time.

To be prostituted, is to know hell, but then each day the evidence is stripped from you.

It see the more you are raped, the more you endured torture, the more you live on the edge of death – the less memory can hold.

So don’t ask an exited woman for evidence.

Don’t ask how many punters?

How often were you raped?

What age were you?

Where did it take place?

Just don’t ask, for that is just another silencing tactic.

Let us speaking our own pace and in our own words.

Allow there to be many gaps and silences – that is normal when the torturing is so commonplace is becomes part of your skin.


Screaming into the Pillow

How do write when thinking is deaden?

I have away from this blog coz I cannot think, don’t want to feel – coz knowing my prostituted years is to know the inside of torture.

I have been writing to this blog for nine years, and still prostitution is very low on the list of human rights abuses.

Still, the prostituted are made to wait for justice, to be given a loud and uncensored voice, to know the true sense of dignity.

I suppose it has been about 3-4 thousand years of not having these simple rights – so it may appear ok to keep the prostituted on hold.

To not see this human rights emergency, is to give permission the punters and sex trade profiteers to continue the largest and longest genocide on earth.

Yes, I call the torture, serial rapes, mental abuse, suicides, drug addiction, self-harming, murders, and lack of access to being fully human a genocide.

That the reality of what it is to be prostituted now, throughout all known history, in every continent and part of most human cultures.

We have spent many centuries making this genocide invisible.

In the written word, the voices and knowledge of the prostituted is censored, or simply wipe away.

Most written word is the language of the abuser – the voices of punters, the voices of sex trade producers and profiteers, the voices of governments normalising prostitution, the voices of academia justifying men rights to destroy the prostituted.

There is a written silence that the prostituted are raped, are murdered – that it can framed as wrong, let alone evil.

In this silence, the genocide of the prostituted is made nothing.

The modern written word has made an art form of ignoring this genocide.

The language that I have to constantly is the words of labour rights framed by individual free choice.

It is a surreal Alice Through the Looking-Glass language.

For exited women, this language is a rope round our throats.

I am see language speaking to free choice connected to prostitution – the language that poison my heart, and cuts out my tongue.

Where is free choice for the prostituted?

Is it in the moment a woman is threaten with eviction, or has too many unpaid bills – and she think prostitution may be easy money?

Is it as the runaway girl is befriended by an older man and told if she loves him, she must make money by being nice to his male friends?

Is it after being surrounded by ads, photos, articles glamourise indoors prostitution, when a student enters escorting or a sex club?

If there is such a thing as free choice in prostitution is belongs to the punters and sex trade profiteers, not the prostituted.

All men can make the free choice never to buy another human for his sexual greed and wants.

Each man who makes that choice to consume the prostituted should be stigmatised – he should be classed as a violent criminal, known as a rapist/serial rapist, seen as a torturer, and too often is a murderer.

Stigma should never be placed onto the prostituted – always it belongs to anyone who buys, sells and consume the prostituted

Sex trade profiteers, whether male or female, should all be classed as criminals and should if sentenced get minimum of twenty years in prison.

Personally, I would give them all life without parole – only a small piece of justice for creating and profiteering from the genocide of the prostituted.

Yes, I am furious, even on occasions bitter – that the punters and sex trade profiteers are mainly allowed to continue their hate and violence with little or no interference.

Men are made invisible when it comes to prostitution.

But these men who make the choice to consume, buy and sell the prostituted are 100% of the cause of the violence done to the prostituted – they are fully responsible for this genocide.

But most societies make the choice to ignore this male violence, and say it all the fault of endless generations of dirty whores.

I would laugh at this upside-down view, if wasn’t murdering my prostituted Sisters everywhere and always.

Instead I cry tears of blood and sweat, at how I live knowing of a genocide – and scream into my pillow.

Only to be told, don’t worry so much, we get to the prostituted after we dealt with more important issues.

Not Your Girlfriend

I was a pretend girlfriend, a girlfriend that was paid for.

I did Girlfriend Experience, and everyday trauma reminds me of that time.

In many ways, it was the worse times that I had endured in prostitution.

But now, it is viewed as romantic, as a new thing, as respectful.

All that is bullshit, all that is said to hide the power and control of the punters who pay for Girlfriend Experience.

Hidden is the mental torture, hidden is the physical torture, hidden isthe degradation, and hidden is murdering of the prostitute’s sense of Self.

to write to Girldfriend Experience, I need to add some context.

It is not new, punters have always wanted full control of the mind, body and spirit of the prostituted.

It is just a new label for an old concept – it could known as courtesan, as a geisha, a an long-term escort.

Rich punters have for centuries owned the prostituted for days, for weeks, for months and for years.

In this ownership, punters will delude themselves that is not dirty prostitution – no she is his mistress, his company or his girlfriend who just happens to gets gifts and money, and never turns his want for sex away.

I know my trauma, my pain and my deep grief is not unique, it an ancient from the centuries of rich punters consuming and destroying the prostituted.

To be inside Girlfriend Experience, is to only survive by losing any sense of Self.

To have a Self in that situation, can be too painful, can put you on the edge of madness, and often lead to suicide or self-harm.

To know at the time, that you all your human stripped from you is too much to bear.

To be in a situation of luxury, or a situation where money wipe out all that may be happening – and know it a situation of total torture with no exit.

That is impossible to know, it is too surreal, too cruel, too terrifying for the conscious mind to compute.

So the truth of oppression, truth of pain beyond language, truth of being a slave even with his gifts and his money – those truths are stored in the subconscious only to come back as complex trauma.

I had no power in Girlfriend Experience, I was enslaved but had to imagine I had free choice.

All that time, I had to be alert.

Alert enough to act the perfect girlfriend in public.

A girlfriend who the punter could show off to his family, his friends and his business partners.

I was shown off at parties, in pubs, at family occasions – shown off but always reminded by mental or physical violence that I was nothing but his Whore.

No gifts, no praising and no amount of money could stop the violence or his hate.

Many punters would frame their need to be violent as a punishment for not being his perfect girlfriend.

I was punished for not knowing his family and their background.

I was punish for sleeping when being of sleep for days.

I was punish for laughing.

I was punish for reminding him that I was still human not his sex doll.

So to survive I had to be alert to his moods.

It was exhausting being Girlfriend Experience.

It is still exhausting as it sits in my trauma.



Drowning on Dry Land

To be exited is a long and often thankless role.

It is about finding who you are when just being human seems a mystery.

I write this blog to see and know what is human, what it is to with but beyond trauma.

To be exited with the knowledge of endless rapes, knowledge of how human can torture every part of an human mind and body, knowledge of what goes on in the sex trade is made nothing – so nothing can matter.

This is to drown on dry land.

How as an exited woman can I make sense of a world that refuses to allow the prostituted, exited or not, to be fully human?

How do I live in a world that constantly changes the rules of male violence to allow prostitution to be made normal?

I live in an environment that is Alice Through the Looking-Glass, where black is white, good is bad, and I know my head is going to explode.

In a world where the voices and demands of punters and sex trade profiteers are put on pedestal – and exited women are more than silenced, they are called mentally ill, made non-existed, and thrown away.

In a world where all male violence is a game, role-playing, harmless fun.

A world where being behind closed where many strange and entitled punters is safe.

A world where everything is the free choice of the prostituted and in many ways it is the punter who is oppressed.

This world does not exist, but constantly it is made to exist by the lies and brainwashing of the sex trade lobby.

What is so hard is how many, including some so-called allies, choose to believe their propaganda.

To believe the sex trade lobby – the authentic voices of sex trade profiteers and punters – is to think, know and say that the prostituted can never be made fully human.

Well, as an existed woman, I am bloody sick of being nice about you throwing away the prostituted.

What does being nice bring but pity, apathy and being patronised.

Instead, I want to question some common assumptions that are drowning me and my exited pals in this desert.

Why do you see limited choices for all oppressed groups except the prostituted?

Why do you think indoors prostitution is safer than street prostitution?

Why do you say the only push into prostitution that matters is poverty?

Why say it is S/M sex, boys being boys, or harmless fun when it called torture and rape in the world outside the sex trade?

Why do you say there no such thing as internal trafficking into prostitution?

How do you justify external sexual trafficking as economic migration?

How can you think that punters are a small minority when most long-term prostituted women have been consumed by hundreds of punters, most one time users?

How can prostitution ever be made safe – when the norm is serial rapes, all forms of mental/sexual/physical torture is common?

Do you really think this extreme violence is new – when it from all centuries and in most cultures?

Do you have serious and thoughtful answer to any of these points – or do you hide your head in the sand.

Answer me by seeing the prostituted as human – that is a good start.