I have been unable to write coz my mind cannot allow in prostitution and all that shite.
So, I write to turn on my brain.
Write to cold centre of what prostitution means to me now.
I see only silences and gaps – staring into a black hole, maybe I can adjust to find shapes and meanings to my fragmented memory.
This post is an exploration of trauma, and how it creates those holes in the brain.
I write from experience, but if I can connect that is a bonus.
Prostitution and the violence that is prostitution is repetitive – that makes hard to remember individual punters, individual places, hard to know what age you were.
Prostitution is about learning not to remember, learning to survive the moment and then act as if it never happened.
In all forms of prostitution, violence is a norm, death is all round the prostituted woman.
Think of high rates of suicides, early deaths from ill health and murders of most prostituted women.
Think of how 27 is the average age of death of a prostituted woman.
Think how normal murders of prostituted have become, have always been – so normal that it not worth reporting or having any true records.
Think how many serial murders kill the prostituted, in the knowledge that it is of no importance coz their lives are subhuman.
Like every exited woman I know, I have ghosts in my life of prostituted women who were disappeared or we know were murdered, committed suicide or for too many reasons never could exit.
Those of us who have been lucky enough to exit, we all live with trauma shadowing our lives.
Most of us are warriors who carry the scars and memories with great dignity and courage – but however sorted we appeared, we always carry the damage that the sex trade planted into our souls.
Trauma is more than grief.
Trauma is more than a frustrated fury.
Trauma is more than an attempt to remember and put logic on the holes of our past.
Trauma is that a lack of justice.
Trauma is all those thing and so much more, more that language cannot express.
I write words from 2008 trying to understand – the more I write the more know words cannot express trauma, only touch the edges.
Trauma is the loudest silent scream that seems to know end only it stuck in a middle.
Trauma is an invisible agony, where every wound is dismissed by society.
Trauma is the essence of isolation.
To understand trauma is to see beyond words, beyond the brave exterior – see into the black hole until it forms shapes and forms.
To understand trauma means seeing there can no healing without justice.
Justice for the prostituted has many forms, which I know only the surface of us.
There is no justice when most cultures and societies have made normal that men have the entitlement to buy mainly women as sexual goods.
Of course, this entitlement effects the lives of all women.
As long as men can buy women as sexual goods – all women are stripped of humanity as all they are is to be sexual goods that are can be thrown away.
But, part of the lack of justice is that even as this male entitlement paints all women as non-human, the prostituted are still made invisible and alienated from any connection with other women.
I believe though I know this Male hate and violence is place on all women – the essence of this hate is how men choose to creat a special class of the prostituted to torture and destroy.
If we are to build a route to justice, we must separate the prostituted out – and not always say it about all women.
Think of domestic violence, acquaintance rape, incest, stalking, sexual harassment etc..
All these are common experiences of all females, but most are not on the scale of the prostituted.
Most women and girls live with a constant reality of isolated events of Male violence, many lives with these events occurring over and over and over.
Most women are living inside a crime scene with a sense there could be an end.
To be prostituted is to know hope is an illusion.
The prostituted lives inside all forms of Male violence being into their bodies at any time and in any place.
Men buy the prostituted to rehearse all ways to torture, humiliate, mentally abuse and destroy women.
To be prostituted is more than being raped – it is being so often and so many ways, that all humanity is wiped out.
Most prostituted women have been raped so often that the language of rape has lost it meaning.
All that is left is a sense of emptiness and a fury without end.
The prostituted know beatings and physical torturing in all its forms, especially in the forms which society chooses to silenced and make into the unspeakable.
The bodies of the prostituted are made silent, made invisible and in the long nothing but the living dead.
To be prostituted is to be in a concentration camp of Male violence.
I am just beginning to explore trauma.
Please say what you think, and if you have anything to add or start a conversation do .