Another Year

My 55th birthday was yesterday.

Gee whiz, I made into independence, freedom, and adulthood.

I think to exit and survive prostitution and trafficking is luck and stubborn will to not be destroyed.

This is post is for all exited friends, in America, in Canada, in Brazil, in South Africa, in India, in New Zealand, in Australia, in Germany, in France, in Italy, in Ireland, in Wales, in Scotland and my home country, England – and all the countries I may of left out.

To be exited is to be a family, we may rarely see each other, may only have the internet to speak to each other – but we have a closeness that comes through connections of pain, of graveyard humour, of knowledge of hell that even allies cannot hold.

Let me say, I love you all.

I have never known love like I get from my exited Sisters, and a few exited males.

So, this post is a huge thanks to all my exited friends.

In my thanks, there is space for deep grief, fury and a yearning for real justice.

In this post, I will speak from my heart, not with logic but passion and vulnerability.

I speak to the deep grief that follows being exited, grief become a shadow leading out for justice and dignity.

None of exited friends has not known the face of death.

All had prostituted friends who died or disappeared.

All were threatened with murder by sex trade profiteers or punters.

All were in situations where  they almost murdered.

None thought they would get of prostitution alive or holding on to their sanity.

The reality of prostitution is the vast majority of the prostituted are murdered, commit suicide or too damaged to survive.

Those of us who have exited and then have the strength to fight for real change, we are the lucky ones.

That leaves a deep grief, that is under our skin every moment of every day.

To campaign, to keep on educating the wrongs of prostitution, to live with joy and desire for change with that deep-seated grief – now that is what a hero is, that is true warrior spirit.

All the exited have a strength, a heroic spirit that is a fire surrounded by iron.

I write to the fury of being exited.

A fury that must not be contained to keep others safe by censoring our realities to fit their streotypes of what being exited is.

A fury that cannot rest as all over the world, at every moment there are millions of the prostituted living in hell.

This fury is there every time we see, hear and be contact with the concept of sex work.

This fury dismisses the language of choice, the language of empowerment, the language of fun.

This fury burns out academics, journalists, sex trade profiteers and their friends whohide the everyday genocide of the prostituted with the language of sex work.

This fury guides us back to the core of torturing, the deaths, the brainwashing and the being made sub-human that is prostitution.

Sex work does exist – for all prostitution is a violation of the basic human rights to safety, to not being tortured, to having full bodily control.

Our fury is a translator to all the sex work nonsense. It is a clear-sighted fury.

We are seeking justice that is solid, permanent and built from the knowledge of centuries of knowledge from the prostituted.

This justice is more than the Nordic Model, is need to deeper roots to stay long-term and solid.

It is a justice that listen to the knowledge of the exited about male violence and hate.

To truly end all prostitution and make it seemed unthinkable to do, we must fully focus on who the sex trade profiteers and punters are.

Although there a few females sex trade profiteers – prostitution as an institution is  fuelled by male sense of entitlement, male desire for power and male hate.

This must be challenged through education, through realistic punishment, through society disapproval, and through a true concept of respect for the prostituted.

We must plan long-term and not get restless when little changes in the present.

Aboliition is not a dream, it is a reality that must be reached.

To always aimed below the reach of abolition is a betrayal of the prostituted.

Justice is never reached with half measures – which is why the Nordic Model is not the end – but the beginning of the beginning of the end.


3 responses to “Another Year

  1. Bonjour !

    I translated your last sentence on my Facebook page. I also re-published your text about “Whorephobic”, since I had recently to reply to a man who was using many times this insult “pute” (“whore” in French) – I said that there are ONLY “putassiers” (severe nickname for punters in French) 😉

    Abolition is a Revolution for all of us.
    Sorority !


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