Give Me a Reason to Want to Live

I am falling – falling into a place I know all too well.

I want to cry – I want to scream – I want to smash-up everyone who even think that the sex trade is ok.


But I also want to die – I want to throw in the towel – I want the world to stop for me.

Please give a reason how and why I should not feel this despair.

It is the despair of seeing, feeling and knowing that I and so many amazing women have survived hell – and now our hell is  normal fare inside the sex trade.

Now and then when inside the sex trade – sexual torture is not considered extreme.

No, in most prostitution is seen as weird for the prostituted woman or girl to just do vaginal penetrative sex, to just do blow jobs. Everything is give labels depending on what label the prostitute is put under.

It is extras, it kinky sex, it is entertainment, it is will do for more hard cold cash, it is s/m prostitution – and tons more ways of making the violence and male hatred invisible.

But, prostituted women and girl have etched on every inch of their bodies and minds where every sexual torture has been.

We may never remembered each individual piece of hate and violence put into us. We may never be able to know who the men were. We may find it all become one long memory of having to be dead to survive.

But it is always inside us.

It is in our body memories – as even as our lives are altered beyond recognition from being prostituted – we have pain as our shadow and on occasions our enemy.

It is in the moments we get alert, it is in the moments that we read men’s body language and see danger when everyone said he is nice.

It is there when laying on a bed is like being back into hell.

It is when the barriers of acting hard and tough come when all we want to do is scream, to sob or to run away.

It is there when hope is something that others have, and I cannot imagine.

I lose my fight – I want to die.

It is not death I seek – it is not to be surrounded by such acceptance of the sex trade.

It just that we can speak of our past – but in such a controlled fashion.

We must not be too graphic, but we can say it was terrible.

We must fit into easy stereotypes – be that we took drugs and work on the streets, be that we were trafficked but not internally trafficked, be that we were abused as children, be that we did it coz we were desperate for money.

We cannot say that the sex trade target any woman or girl – including rich vulnerable women and girls, including women and girls who believe the propaganda that the sex trade is respectful and full of glamour, including women and girls who think it would be fun and easy to leave, and especially women and girls who will be prostituted as long as any word but prostitute is used to describe them.

All it take to be trapped inside the sex trade is for a woman’s or girl’s life to fall apart – and to be in the vicinity of the predators of the sex trade – it is scarily that easy.

Remember the sex trade will flatter, will be charming, will give women and girls who never known real love the delusion that they are cared for – all that is grooming.

It is easy to think the prostituted are not you – but every woman or girl is one disaster away from falling into the sex trade.

I know must women don’t want to think this, and so distanced themselves from the prostituted class – and often use stereotyping and very hurtful language to do that.


But your stereotyping and language does hurt – it hurts to the core.

Do not distance yourself by saying that it only happens to women and girls who are not who you think you are.

Do not just say that women and girls inside the sex trade were already damaged before they enter – therefore dismissing the many who had not been abused as children, who were not addicts before being made in a fuck-objects.

Do count women and girls who you decide should not be counted – count those who fall into the sex trade because they thought it might be fun, count those you considered too rich to be allowed to be prostituted – count all those you have pre-planned are not worthy of your support.

The more women and girls you dismissed – the happier the profiteers of the sex trade are.

Remember the sex trade will always paint itself as a caring and ethical employer – so it looks to see what women and girls are considered non-victims of the sex trade and exploits them – knowing it will be made invisible.

The more you divide women and girls in the sex trade – the more it makes me want to die.

So remind why it is worth living.

I fight so hard – but all the time the sex trade is laughing at how exited women speak out.


6 responses to “Give Me a Reason to Want to Live

  1. Just by your being here, the world is a brighter, more beautiful place.
    More and more people are waking up to the truth about the rape industry – its defenders are loud and nasty – but people are beginning to understand, and you are a huge part of that.
    Love and hugs always xxx


  2. I don’t have an answer for you, Rebecca. The answer, as always, has to come from within you. All I can tell you is that I want you to live, because I value you and because not living lets the abusers win. You always have a choice about this but you’ve always chosen to carry on and I hope with all my heart that you continue to do so.


  3. Thanks so much Laurelin and Sue,

    I not sure if I want to die, or to scream and sob at the horrors I have known – and that those horrors are the norm of most of the sex sex trade.

    I not sure if I want to die, or yell with frustrated rage or try to reason with getting a splitting headache with those who back the sex trade.
    As you say, Laurelin, they are very nasty and loud. Although it mostly ignorance or plain lies about the realities of the sex trade.

    There language is like daggers into my heart. So maybe, I don’t want to die – I want more support.


  4. “I don’t want to die, I just don’t see what point there is in continuing to live”

    Is that it? You do so much good here. I wanted to check again and see how you were getting on. I always appreciate your honesty in writing, though it would be better read by someone who has actual influence, no doubt.

    I’ve also been thinking – old advice to you maybe – that if there were important words to pass on to a youngster they would be “do what it takes to feel safe”. The older I get the more I think I shouldn’t worry about not being ‘normal’ but instead do whatever it takes to keep me calm and sane. Without guilt.

    Cruel people laugh because of the effect it has on others… not because they have reason to laugh. It is another form of abuse.


  5. Feeling like it’s all up to you can suck. And pithy crap like “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” I swear was made up by someone who went through nothing worse than a hangnail, locking themselves out, and getting dumped.Maybe all in one day if we really push it.

    Feeling like the last soldier standing can make breathing feel like inhaling concrete coated with excrement. I’ve had to learn that my brain is honestly not trying to punish me by throwing memories around in my head like grenades…it just doesn’t know what to do with them anymore than I do sometimes.

    When I was younger, a counselor I saw warned me ahead of time that, no matter how many good days I might have, major life changes, even good ones, may kick up painful stuff and triggers. It’s a warning I found very useful in life and have been able to share with others.

    You are not mandated to speak to the point of harming yourself. You have a calling, but for a calling to last, there must be balance. It took me 11 years to begin to learn this. It’s all urgent, and there are lives at risk out there. But you have value outside of this blog and your call to speak.

    I hope I’ve not offended you.


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