Writing Whilst Listening to Prince

I have decided after a very hard time, a time of attacks, a time of memories of things I don’t want to know – and a time of wondering if an exited prostituted women are ever given real permission to be fully human in the eyes of society.

I have decided to write to and through loud sexual music, whether that be soul, blues, jazz or 80’s pop – now with the ultimate in sex with damned fine tunes, Prince.

I write to and away from my subconscious – I write to the spaces I would run from if I just surrounded myself with silence or non-sexual music.

I write to confront how prostitution formed my sexuality, how it made the death of sexuality – how I struggle to find I can have some freedom with being a sexual human being.

I have been living inside sexual violence, and knowing I am a sexual object or tool for violent men from aged 6 to 27.

I am 49 now, and only in the last ten or so years have I known that sexuality could natural and not performing for others. Only recently have I known that I receive sex for my own pleasure, without bad consequences or having to be punished for being “sex-crazed”.

Yes, I was abused by my stepdad. Yes, I have been date-raped.

But, it was the prostitution and being inside porn that destroy my freedom to know my own sexuality.

I think I have been a lesbian from a young age – but with so much porn, men wanting me to perform “lesbian sex” for their wanking, or as an excuse before forcing “normal” sex into me – I became terrified to express my lesbian self.

I hated being with men – but then the vast majority of men I was with had brought me, and so thought that they owned me.

How do you discover your own sexuality when from aged 14, every sexual event put into you was brought and sold?

Most prostituted girls are at the age, where the non-prostituted girls who are relatively happy, are discovering how to be sexual.

Remember a large percentage of girls enter prostitution round the ages of 12 to 15 – the age of discovery, the age of separating from being a child to slowly getting to be a woman.

You do not discover your sexuality when you are being fucked by the hour.

A prostituted girl grows up very fast. She learns how save her life and hold onto to some sanity by performing.

It is that performance that destroys any access to her own sexuality. To owned your own sexuality when inside prostitution would be a luxury – and that would like finding a unicorn for most prostituted girls.

I am screaming inside as I write this – screaming as I see and know that I had my adolescent stolen and made into mud.

No wonder that as an adult – being sexual for me is about being detached, about trying to remember how ti appear like I am in the moment, and trying to have an orgasm without falling back to faking it as ever.

I like most long-term prostituted woman can put on a convincing performance – but having women telling how great I am at sex, when nothing has happened inside me – only feeds my self-hatred.

If I cannot even be fully with someone I love – then how can ever rid myself of the poison that the sex trade put in love.

I fall back on pretending to be celibate, pretending I can live without sex. I build up a firm network of real friends – and close down lust, or just simple yearning to be touch as a sexual being.

I so scared of that detachment, that deadness that crawls into me whenever I am on the receiving end of being sexual.

I have women who I give them orgasms, I fulfilled their needs – but I wanted or got little in return. They think it is cool.

I don’t – so I will never do that any more.

No, it the same as prostitution, just without the money. I am just a tool for their orgasm.

I hate that I hadso many years of faking orgasms in the hope it may prevent some of the punter’s violence, may make him be in me for a shorter time – or may just boost his ego enough to make him think he is a sex-god.

I fake orgasms now, even when safe and with women I do and can trust – I have faked them for so long, it is unnatural for me, when on rare occasions, I actually do cum.

If I cum, it can and does triggers so many dark parts of my life – so I try to remain inside being fake or celibate.

My heart is breaking as I write this – for access to knowing your authentic sexuality is the prize for becoming a full human.

That is what is stolen from the prostituted class.

Losing you own sexuality, and having it manufactured by the sex trade is the ultimate act of turning prostituted women and girls into sub-human.

Why be human when it is your role is to be holes, mouths, and hands for men to buy and sell? When your parts of body are just for punters to wank into, and fully conquer the prostitute enough that she will forget she ever was human.

Why be human inside porn as your body is pulled at, and is crammed full of penises and objects? How can you stay human in porn when it done over and over and over – till you know nothing, only hope you look happy as pain, terror and degradation is killing you.

And how after that, can you walk away from the world of the sex trade, and just fall neatly into understanding that sex can be mutual, can be and should be without violence or the desire to degrade.

How can the exited woman go from one world to the other without trauma or self-hating emotions?

We are sexual, but often we pretend we don’t care – for to express the deep void of fear and hurt that has stolen our sexuality is too hard.

Ah well, there is always Prince and the blues.

6 responses to “Writing Whilst Listening to Prince

  1. This is brave and unblinking. Brava.

    Re: “how, after that, can you walk away from the world of the sex trade, and just fall neatly into understanding that sex can be mutual, can be and should be without violence or the desire to degrade?”

    It’s certainly been difficult for me — I didn’t fall neatly into sexuality that was caring, giving and intimate.

    But it is possible, at least some of the time. What helped me more than anything was doing body work like yoga, alexander technique, feldenkrais, yamuna ball rolling — which is phenomenal — these are all disciplines that bring your mind and body together — you don’t have to think about it, it just happens. It didn’t happen overnight, but after months of this, I felt I was living in my body, rather than being detached from it. At first it hurt, like thawing after frostbite. Now I so look forward to yoga and yamuna ball rolling, practice feldenkrais and alexander technique — because it feels delicious to be focused on living ‘in’ my body.

    So that stuff helped enormously.

    What also helped enormously was my relationship with my husband — it was unlike any I’d had previously — he was committed and in it for the long haul. I made a concious decision to try to ‘stay’ through the emotionally running away — dissociation — when I was with him, whether we were sitting in the car talking or being intimate. I was very mindful of the fact that I wanted to let this wonderful person into my life, even though it scared the hell out of me. It didn’t happen overnight either. But I’d take a few moments each day to conciously tell myself how much I wanted to let him in, how important that was to me.

    Eventually all of this worked. I’m not saying I don’t ever have dissociation during sex, flashbacks here and there, but by and large I’m able to be present and fully alive in the moment, with and through my body.

    A yamuna body rolling kit costs 60 bucks, which is a lot I know. But if you do it every day the results are amazing.

    So much love. Thank you for your brilliant writing as always.


  2. This would have been so difficult to write and it is heart- breaking to read… cannot help but think of all the women and girls who have had and are having their sexuality stripped away from them, for someone else’s orgasm. I am hearing all those women screaming. And grieving. Thank you for another wonderful post xoxo


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