personal musings, prostitution, relationship, sex industry, Uncategorized

Is a successful romantic relationship with a hooker even possible?

 

            About a year and a half ago, my very very best girlfriend and partner in crime (crime of course being whore-ing) met and fell head over heels for a man who seemed great for her at first and was super into her. She stopped working because he apparently disapproved, fine, that’s her business, and I didn’t ask a lot of questions. We still hung out, but she never came around me without him at her side. Now, I am completely open and frank about my work, and most of my friends thoroughly enjoy my raunchy and sarcastic anecdotes or recaps of a particularly funny client or session. Everybody laughs, it’s just fun. And she and I have some spectacularly funny memories together that we used to laugh about and retell over and over, but we couldn’t bring them up in front of him, because he’d think she was going to become a whore again. Eventually, he convinced her to break off all contact with me, because I am a whore and said whore things and might be contagious, I guess. Anyway, I know this situation is pretty specific to the people involved, but I mention it because when he finally stopped being such a prick, he and I talked, and he seemed shocked to learn that I actually agree that a relationship is unlikely to survive in an environment like this and wasn’t trying to hijack his relationship.

         Jealousy and trust issues, which most of us have, to some degree or another, are like a pool of gas, just waiting for someone to flick a cigarette and set off the alarms.

This is on my mind today because I received an email from a long-time client requesting my services and had to turn it down, the response that is the direct result of a relationship that has been unable thus far to maintain anything resembling healthy status whilst one of us (namely, me, obviously) was giving blowies to strangers for money. I persisted in my chosen profession through hell and high-water, insisting on my independence and indignant at the lack of confidence in my professionalism until finally my ego took a step back to allow reality to sneak in.

I have been with my fiance for almost 5 years, and except for maybe a month or so in the very beginning, and a few memorable situations since, I have a firm rule that he is not to be anywhere in the same building when I see a client, preferably he is not to even know anything specific that could set his thoughts on a course for disaster.

Not that he’d admit it, not for a long time, but for my fiance, the reality of the girl he loved with some stranger sweating and pawing at her had become a problem very quickly. He would be angry and mean towards me when I came home from working, accusing me of being emotionally invested in clients (i paraphrase of course) or allowing inappropriate activities (like kissing or not using protection, both sacred to a relationship but also mandatory safe hooker practices). I told him in no uncertain terms that he should find himself a hobby and to stay out of my business. I was convinced he was just being controlling, I resented his intrusion in any capacity, and we had a very rocky relationship for a while.

Gradually though, after seemingly endless discussions and observations, and some instances where I was put in his shoes, I was able to finally accept his point of view and even understand it.

He asked me to create and post an ad for him to escort, for ladies, to which he received a resounding negative, because…well.. MINE…. and finally, after finding out about a girl he’d been around, who had been basically a sugar mommy type “friend” and I in my jealousy and indignation was ready to destroy him, a girlfriend of mine suggested I take a good long look in the mirror first. How was this really any different from what I do? Well, obviously, I am there during my dates, so I know that it’s just business, that is the difference!

The simple truth is that, in my experience, knowing that the person you love is touching someone else, and being touched by someone else, no matter how clearly you understand in your rational mind the in’s and out’s of the business , it hurts a little, and part of you wants to rush in and scream MINE!

I have read about and seen examples of marriages and other romantic relationship that seem to be successful and have lasted for years, and I applaud everyone involved . Obviously, these people are superhero’s, and so I admire without any hope of achieving same.

These days, I am not working, and my fiance is overjoyed. I get it, I really do, and so I guess my final opinion on the subject is that any  romantic relationship with a hooker has the potential for longevity, however the degree of contentment probably depends on which person is the hooker and which one just has to quietly know about it.

Standard
personal musings, rants, relationship, Uncategorized

fighting shadows …

I don’t know why  lies are so much easier to believe.

I don’t know why I put pen to paper, or open my mouth to speak

I don’t know why I am asked for truth, while they secretly redefine honesty

I don’t know why I am compelled to play along with that disingenuous and rather vague presentation of assistance and support

I don’t know why we are presumed to be so easily maneuvered into a collapse of our constancy, our integrity,  our very common sense

I don’t know why anybody would steal a life,  and I don’t understand why I can’t steal it back

I don’t know how many memories I have forgotten, in my desperate quest for escape

I don’t know how a battle is fought when the war is born from a lie

My heart, in all it’s cold ferocity, aches unbearably in its lonely confusion  I don’t know why I  can never dance in front of you

I don’t know why God pulled you away, or why I can’t  do anything about it

My  love, I don’t know why I  couldn’t make them understand, I don’t know why my tears  were exploited

I  don’t know why I couldn’t believe that justice  would not prevail

I don’t know why innocent lives are pursued with such deadly intent,  or how simple truth can be so categorically ignored

I don’t know how to explain to my children that the country of freedom or the system intended to uphold it

are a myth. Nothing more than nostalgia, a bit of whimsy,  a dream

Justice.

Right. Wrong. Good. Bad.

I don’t know why such simple principles are so used and abused, so filled with foggy gray areas  and predjuce

I don’t know why it is so difficult to see a person, instead of a paper, or to ponder the possibility that there are other possibilities

Your mother asks me questions to which I have no answere. I don’t know when you will come home. I refuse to even allow myself to consider the alternative.

I cannot even fathom the idea…My own psyche will not allow the idea to materialize…my chest constricts, my muscles clench, my head begins to spin

I don’t know if I want to know how to be strong enough for that

Standard