Wish I Did Not Know

Surviving prostitution is horrible.

I know we are strong, we have empathy, we can be the bravest people I know – but to all my fellow exited friends and colleagues, we live with knowing what we would rather not know.

We know and understand male sexual violence.

We know and understand what it is to be made sub-human.

We know and understand what torture is and how the human being somehow survives torture beyond knowledge.

We are carriers of deep knowledge – heck, we are a resource.

But I and most of my survivors friends would love to turn back time, and to be ignorant.

You live five minutes with even a small part of our knowledge, and tell me you would not turn back time.

I would imagine I never went down the path I did – I imagine the normal upper-middle class background I was born into.

I imagine a world where I had a mother who loved me, or at least put my safety and welfare as a major purpose.

Not the world of knowing I was nothing to my mum – knowing she saw me as an inconvenient, as born evil, as a blockade to her progress.

I imagine a world where my stepdad never meet my mother, a world where he was not even a thought in our family.

Not the world where his wants and needs were more important than my safety.

Not the world where he could randomly abuse me when his whim took him – and always my mother told me how I provoke him.

I had pushed him too far.

I would eat down my hate, my sense of no justice, my fury that wanted burn down my home.

I would imagine a world where I had no knowledge of prostitution, no idea that sex could be nothing, no connection of pain with that sex.

Not the world that I knew from too young.

The world of my six-year-old who run away from school into King’s Cross and Soho, surrounded by noises of women and girl’s desperation, by noises of men wanting to buy me – the child is cheap and ignorant.

The child can be molded into being a sub-human, and it will be no big deal.

The world of my seven-year-old – where she is stood still in Soho, acting tough, acting beyond her age.

She is street-wise, but knows nothing.

She is walking prey.

The world of my nine-year-old – who begun to make death her best friend, and knew suicide was some answer.

I don’t want to know how much my childhood was stolen even before I was 14 and enter the sex trade.

Now, I see the age 14, and see how bloody young that is – but then I thought I was all grown, that I could be hurt or know pain more than I did then.

I like so many survivors of prostitution, was used to abuse but still a child who naive of what torture was and how bad it could get.

Thank god, we were naive for how would still be alive if we had known what we were entering.

For we were entering hell, but like all hells on earth, it was hidden in plain sight.

I cannot write to prostitution without stating that all that I speak to is just common practice in all aspects of prostitution.

I must state that the vast majority of violence done to the prostituted is done in legal, semi-legal setting.

There is no such thing as underground prostitution, for all prostitution is easy for punters to find and consume.

Prostitution is never about sex and relationship – it always about money, power and male entitlement.

So it never hidden to men – those who do not see the violence and hate that is prostitution, have made a conscious decision to turn away

I will see my prostitution, knowing I connect to all the prostituted class. Now I can rise up and find I was never alone, only completely isolated.

So I speak to my prostituted self – speak words of comfort, words of revolution, words letting her know at last she is someone who can be respected.

Speaking to my prostituted self – I hope is part of building a world where all prostitution has vanished.

A world where all the prostituted class can stand tall.

But to build a future, we must grieve and know our pasts.

I will speak to the heart of my prostituted self – to my silent screaming, to that place where body memories come from,

I try by writing over and over and over, to ease my prostituted self – but without full justice, and a sense that the prostituted are respected – her pain seems endless.

I write to my reality of indoors prostitution, a world with no Julia Roberts, no Richard Geres – just desperation, pain and wanting to forget.

I write to each room with a bed where I was raped, tortured and put myself on the ceiling.

I write to not knowing pain – but seeing blood, seeing bruises, and being unable to walk or eat.

I write to not knowing the men – not looking at their faces, not hearing when they spoke, not breathing in their clothes or alcohol breathe.

I write to being in the of being gang-raped – with that sense of having skin, of my guts being pulled out, of hounds of men panting all over me – but finding not only was I still alive, but being gang-raped was quite common.

No wonder I don’t want to know my own truths.

But to understand and to end prostitution, we must know what is done to the prostituted, and name it as torture, as a human rights emergency.

We must allow all those exited folks strong enough to speak to that reality to be published, to be leaders at all speaking events about abolition, and to listen to your exited friends without asking them to censor their truths.

Abolition is a revolution – so don’t dilute it by censoring the truths of survivors of the sex trade.

 

Fractured Memory

I have many gaps in my memory.

This hurts and wounds me in many ways – I feel I am missing too much of my life. I have lost the years between 6 to 27.

It is not fully lost, just in so many fragments I cannot find how to fit them together.

I am a neglected jigsaw with pieces gone.

I want to cry, but I have forgotten how.

I want to scream – but that voice is lost in a past that is shattered.

I want to know my truths – but only touch small edges.

I understand with logic, why my memory is so damaged.

I understand the mind can only take in so much reality of torture, then it cannot hold any more.

I understand that most of prostitution is repeated violence – repeated ways of raping, repeated ways of mentally/physically/sexually torturing, repeated ways of breaking down the prostitute.

I understand that repetition cannot be remembered fully – only remembered until it is discovered that all the prostituted are not to blame, and the violence done to them was pre-planned.

I understand that to survive the hell that is prostitution, it is vital to close it down or to replace the violence with inventions of empowerment and having a good time.

All this and more, I understand with a clear logical mind – but it does nothing to end the grief of lost memory.

In this post, I will try an explore memory – maybe speaking to moments/hours/weeks/years.

May I say that I was prostituted between 14 to 27, and previously sexually and mentally abused at home from aged 6.

Those years are just moments to me – for my fractured memory has made the good times disappear as well as the abuse and violence.

I remember standout moments – but with the years of prostitution I cannot see my age, cannot see the exact location, and usually cannot fully the men abusing me.

I remember through pain throughout my body, I remember through sudden terror, I remember and try not to doubt myself.

I remember as I choking without cause, I remember as I try to sleep but feel bodies raping me again, I remember when I try to love my partner and my mind wants violence.

I know memory is trapped inside my body, it trying with desperation to connect to the mind.

My instinct is to disconnect from my body as much as possible – I fall into music, reading, eating, TV and so forth to be away from my body.

Heck, now I have Twitter and Facebook, I can run away even more.

But my body pushing memory into me, even as I choose to run away.

The more I run, the worse the pain and grief gets – so I know I must turn round and confront a past that refuses to be silent.

It is a past made up of rooms.

Rooms in hotels, rooms in flats, rooms above clubs, rooms behind pubs.

Rooms where all I remember seemed the same, though it was different times and many locations.

Rooms where all I saw was the bed, maybe a place for money, maybe see a way to a bathroom.

I cannot remember how many rooms, only know I was a robot just seeing any bed – I knew what I was, and could not imagine a world where I was not a whore.

It was a past made up of punters.

A past where I did not know sex could be done with care, done with love, done without pain.

A past where men enter every part of my body – wearing down all memory that I had ever been human.

A past where consent meant nothing – as I was brought and sold, where could my no have any meaning.

A past where one could keep me as his sexual slave for weeks, a past where gang-rape was normal, a past where torture was rehearsed on my body.

For torture is always rehearsed on the prostituted – we are just living porn to punters.

So it is impossible to fully remember the past.

But I remember enough to know I did nothing to be in the line of such hate and violence.

I remember enough to know all punters will torture the prostituted – even if just mentally or by refusing to see the prostituted as fully human.

I remember enough to know violence is the norm of all aspects of the sex trade.

I remember to know I am only alive by luck.

I remember to be an abolitionist.

Another Christmas, Another Year Gone

I have taught myself to love Christmas – it has been a long journey but the older I get the more I understand Christmas.

Christmas means nothing to my prostituted soul.

Christmas was stolen from my abused childhood.

Now, I hold Christmas to my heart, holding not any religion, holding no desire for commercial goods – but holding out for deeper meaning of what love can be.

Love was a concept I was taught to mistrust.

Love was always a silk glove with a dagger in it.

I wanted and needed love as much as any other human being – so I learnt to block out that longing by freezing out all signs and symbols of human love.

Christmas was love, so I taught myself to hate everything that touch my heart associated with that season.

I hardened my heart, I acted the cynic, I pretended it was just another rotten day – whilst all time an inner crying was reaching for joy and peace.

But how can Christmas matter to an abused child? How can the prostituted know that season?

Tell me would care enough to reach into their hearts – in doing so then maybe truly understand the meaning of Christmas.

For Christmas is not about competing for the most showy present, or who can eat the most.

No, Christmas is a reminder that humans can reach out and care for others.

A reminder that we can know joy in small and big events, and knew joy helps build us up in feeling empathy and knowing we do not need to hardened our hearts just to survive.

A reminder that peace is the long-term achievement that all humans should strive.

Not just the ending of political and international wars – but the deeper peace of reaching out to those we think we do not understand or want as our neighbours with love and empathy.

Christmas is never one day or even 12 – the spirit of Christmas is striving of all that is good in humans for all time, it is nothing to do with religion, it about each human soul finding it is connected to all other humans.

I have no belief in god, religion or any supernatural ways of thinking.

I do not have belief in organised religions, in goddesses, in paganism, in witches, in fundamentalism, etc etc – no I believe in the inner strength and a kind of spirituality in all humans.

I believe we are more capable of love than we know, I believe the human heart is built to connect with all other human hearts.

We closed down our own ability to be good and built a better future, for we are afraid.

Instead, humans find it easier to be cut off from love and built a world that is cold and full of pain.

Each and every moment – humans are destroying hope, destroying our link to understanding others, destroying all that give meaning to being alive.

It is human that destroy the spirit of Christmas – and always we blame everything but our own actions.

So I believe it an act of revolution to stand up for the meaning of Christmas.

A spirit that will rise up all those abused children and all the prostituted living inside terror.

Let me look back to my abused self, and see my desire for that Christmas spirit never truly disappear. I will give a few small examples of my resistance to my abusers murdering the spirit of Christmas.

I was taught there was no Father Christmas in the harsher way possible.

I learnt as I thought Father Christmas was reaching into my cunt and feeling me up.

I open my eyes seeing it was my stepdad – and his French kissing suffocated me as he left the stocking at the end of the bed.

I wanted to believe in Father Christmas so much, I wanted there to be magic, I wanted one night without being a sex object.

As an adult, I hold on to laying out stockings for all – adult or child – that moment of joy is a gift I refuse to rob from me.

At aged 17, I reached the end of hope, of wanting Christmas to be part of me.

That Christmas, I dreamt and attempted suicide – but somehow life refuse to let me go.

I remember that hell as I cut myself, took pills, and attempted to walk into the sea.

I remember my mother laughing at for being too stupid to even able to kill myself.

I remember all the time my stepdad eyeing me up and down.

I remember his hands in me as I try to eat Christmas meal.

I remember running from that home into punter’s flats or into sex clubs.

I remember being gang-raped over some winter period.

I remember a New Year of rape and abortion.

Happy Christmas and New Year was meaningless for my 17 years self.

But even – there was an inner voice saying you deserve so much more than this shit – something, some spirit forcing me to stay alive.

I wanted to live coz there must be more to live than pain, fear and hate – something that may called love.

My memories of prostitution at Christmas are confused, and full of grief and trying escape the pain.

All I know, that when I was escorting, being girlfriend material – the Christmas period was busy and often well paid.

This was because the punters were greedy and wanting do more sadist sex – they would pay more for that entitlement.

To be brought round the Christmas period, is to be enslaved – it is expected that many punters will own the prostitute for long periods and make her his living porn-doll.

I hated Christmas as a prostitute – even though I got many gifts or trips, and could spend money like water.

I associated Christmas with pain in every cell of my body, it was a time where I touch death too often.

Christmas was a time of torture, a time to forget about hope – a time that would not end.

Only even my prostituted soul held on to Christmas – a reminder of having innocence, a reminder that not all human want or cause pain and hate.

I held on to Christmas as I listen each year to carols, often it was surreal, but it give me some sense of peace.

I held on to Christmas by playing Phil Spector, jazz Christmas classics and Wham – songs reaching to hidden space that wanted joy.

And I held on to Christmas, as I saw children with looks of wonder at Christmas lights – holding to that part of me that just wanted a simple routine life.

So I have written this post, to say however cruel human choose to be – they will never truly destroy the spirit of Christmas.

They may make it hide for a while – but in the long run the courage and determination of those who are oppressed will force joy, peace and innocence back into the world.

Merry Xmas everyone.

 

Invisible Torture

Recently there has been yet more fuss about state-run torture.

This is the visible torture that it is ok to be disgusted by, and to protest about.

This is the visible torture that we can hang our political and moral status on – whether the state is Britain, America, Egypt, Iran or Pakistan.

It is ok to be furious that there is tortured by any State on any person, especially if that torture is done to a civilian male.

But every day in every country, under all political systems – the prostituted are being tortured.

The prostituted have been tortured from the beginning of the invention of the sex trade to the moment you are reading this post.

The mass torturing of the prostituted is the largest form of invisible violence that most societies make the decision to ignore.

The torture of the prostituted is inside every cell of their bodies, the torture is carried from each generation to the prostituted to the next in a the form of deep trauma.

For to be tortured as a prostitute is to lose all sense off a self.

The torture is mental, physical, sexual and spiritual – to be tortured as a prostitute is have no rights, no voice, no space even for silent screaming.

For even if the prostituted can speak out, speak that this is torture – who is listening? Who stop time enough to care?

Where is Amnesty International? Where are Leftist men? Where are the liberal feminists?

All too busy holding up the status quo of the sex trade, keeping it going so they can have the choice to consume or profit from the torture that has become conveniently invisible.

Well, this Xmas, as a gift to all the prostituted – I want all my readers to speak out about the ordinary torture of the prostituted class.

I want you to speak about prostitution as a human rights crisis – say in a clear and reasoned voice/s of how normal torture is all the prostituted.

Speak to the male entitlement that make that torturing invisible – that entitlement that makes all the prostituted into sub-human sexual goods that any may can and will torture.

Speak to all human rights organisations and demand they hold up the rights of all of the prostituted, and hold all sex trade consumers and profiteers to account for the destruction of those basic human rights.

As a gift to all the prostituted, learn to expose the torture as it is and refuse to be part of making it invisible.

Do this, by giving those who have exited the sex trade and have the strength to speak to that torture leadership.

Give us freedom to speak out in our own words, own ways of remembering, own ways of holding our truths.

Have the spirit of humanity not to speak over those of us who have exited – learn to be silent as our pain, grief and fractured memories are able to surface.

It is our time – time for the prostituted to speak with multiple voices, speak from multiples histories and cultures, speak from the street to high-class escorting.

We speak to the torture of the street, torture of the brothel, torture of being made into girlfriend material, torture of exploited teenager thinking her pimp loves her, torture off every woman/man/child trafficked to brothel/sex club, torture of escorting, torture of stripping turning into prostitution – and so many other ways the sex trade profiteers and punters have invented to torture all the prostituted.

For it is very simple why there is so much torturing of the prostituted – it is ingrained in every aspect of the sex trade, that all consumers and profiteers have the entitlement to degrade, torture and humiliate the prostituted at any time, in any place.

There is no freedom from torture for any prostitute – it is no matter if the prostitute is on the street or working indoors.

For many of the prostituted, it can more dangerous to be alone in a room with a punter than on the street, for it private.

There will never be freedom from torture, whilst we only the male entitlement to buy and sell the prostituted.

The greatest gift you can give the prostituted is to fight that entitlement.

Your Sexual Liberation is Our Death

I am always amazed, and deeply saddened, at how the male-led Left fights for human rights and liberation from Capitalism – but has a blind spot when it comes to the sex trade.

But why am I so surprised, for it was the Left that give us Hustler, it is the Left that tells porn is liberating and fun, it is the Left that pushes for prostitution to be framed as sex work, it is the Left that claims prostitution is safe “enough” if it is placed indoors, it is the Left that silencing exited women, it is the Left that lies that abolition is prohibition and some kind of moral crusade instead a radical political movement.

I could on and on and on about how the Left joins with the sex trade lobby to block the abolitionist movement.

The classic blocking method is to claim we must have the sex trade in the name of Freedom of Speech.

This makes no sense – especially when it appears the only people who the Left grant Freedom of Speech are those who gain and/profit from the status quo of the sex trade.

That is the Left are on the side of the oppressor, on the side of the worst capitalistic system ever known.

There is a claim that images of porn should never be banned in the Leftist god Freedom of Speech.

This is nonsense, images are not words, therefore they are not speech.

This concept only works if the viewer or producer of porn stubbornly refuses to see that real harm is being done to real people.

This is done by the Left inventing hate-language to say that women (mainly) inside are not fully human, or the so-called sex is just fake.

This is bullshit, especially with the most common form of porn – free porn on the net.

Consumers of porn want real sex, want real pain, want real degradation – they want porn that grinds women into the dirt.

Consumers of porn will not buy or consume porn that they see is fake – fake porn makes no profit.

But still the Left speak these words of porn – plastic women, only acting, cartoon sex, no harm done.

The Left wants to consume porn – but not have the guilt of knowing that it is real torture, real sexual diseases, real suicides, real rape, real murders that is the life-blood of what they are viewing.

There is no Freedom of Speech for the women inside porn – only penises force down their throats stopping all expression or right to be seen as human.

The Left frames prostitution as sexual liberation, the Whore as the model-rebel.

The Left places the Whore as a goddess, whilst claiming to hate all religions.

The Left called the prostituted sexual outlaws, without asking what we named ourselves or even if we have a right to have a voice they cannot owned.

For the Left speak over the prostituted, speaks through the prostituted, speaks down to the prostituted – never giving the prostituted space and time to speak our own words.

The Leftist male want to own the prostituted, want to claim the prostituted and then use them as any other profiteer/punter would.

This is shown by the Left demand that prostitution be re-framed sex work and placed indoors – with unions, with harm reduction and all others ways the Left can control and speak for the prostituted.

There is no striving for freedom for the prostituted, no place for the voices of the prostituted to be heard – this is no liberation, it just a prison.

But why would the male-lead Left help or even listen to the prostituted – when they can create their own systems of prostitution – and say it is ethical, it is about free choice for the prostituted, it is the utopia that Left-wing men wank over.

For in this fantasy, it is only Right-wing punters/profiteers who are the problem, causing violence and  degradation Рand the heroic Left is there to protect the prostituted.

It is a fantasy which is killing the prostituted class each and every hour of each and every day in almost the whole world.

For these Leftist dreams fueled the sex tourism market, are behind legislation of the sex trade in Germany with no laws preventing violence and hate, are behind the division of trafficking and prostitution to hide most violence.

The Left are punters, the Left are managers in prostitution, the Left do produce porn, the Left creates most of the propaganda that makes the sex trade appears just adult fun.

Remember Larry Flynt likes to say he is Left-wing hero – giving porn to working-class men, fighting for Freedom of Speech.

His hero-label cover ups the racism, women-hating, encouragement of child rape in some kind of fight for freedom and sexual liberation.

It is his language that feeds all the Left when is claims that supporting the sex trade is to build a road to sexual liberation.

That road is made of the terror, the raped bodies, the trauma that will go without full justice, the tortures that are carried in our dreams and each cell of every prostituted body.

If you step on that road without hearing our screaming, our racking grief, our fury that you block out all sound – then you are no freedom fighter, or have any understanding of true liberation.

No, you blood-socked and without any human emotion.

 

Red Warning

I write a lot about language, because language forms how others view prostitution, the prostituted and abolition.

I believe we do not need to change language, just learn to be clearer about how we use or abuse words. In this post, I will write to a few common phrases and words we should not use if we demand abolition.

The first is prohibition.

Prohibition is about the banning of inanimate goods. To speak the language of prohibition, is to say that the prostituted class are not human, but sexual goods.

Prohibition keeps all the prostituted as sub-human – without futures, without dreams, without pasts, without feelings or emotions.

To speak the language of prohibition is to deny that the prostituted deserves human rights, access to full dignity, and to know that crimes are committed against the prostituted.

For to speak the words of prohibition, is to state that all the prostituted are not human enough for violence and crime to affect them.

We must speak to the language of abolition, with no fear or censorship.

Abolition is the language of liberation and giving back full dignity to oppressed humans.

Abolition is lead and informed by those who know the insides of that oppression, which is why it is vital that our abolition movement against the sex trade is lead and deeply informed by those who are exited.

Abolition is a movement that purpose is bring about full human rights for all the oppressed, it is a movement that challenges and confronts those who hold the power.

That is why the Nordic Approach is a vital first step to abolition, for it challenges and confronts the demand and supply of prostitution, and provides holistic exiting projects for the prostituted.

This is a wonderful start to the regaining of basic human rights and dignity for the prostituted class, it a start not an end in itself.

Abolition is the language of knowing freedom is not gained without knowing it is a long-haul, and often a very painful and grief filled road to that freedom.

Abolition is a movement that is built on learning from the past, built on learning from other freedom movements, built on the heart and the brain.

To be an abolitionist is to know and see clearly the pain, the confusion and grief that underpins the reasons to fight so hard.

We must mark and celebrate all the moments or events where we see freedom coming.

We must celebrate each and every we hear of or know that the prostituted are able to exit – whether as an individual or as a group.

We must celebrate each and every time, we speak out and know that we have made others re-think how they view the sex trade.

We must celebrate as governments start to go towards the Nordic Approach.

We must celebrated each and every exited activist for their deep courage and ability to speak truth to power.

The next word is choice.

I believe the concept of choice, especially free choice, has little or no relevance to what it to be prostituted.

Instead, the language of choice is used to poison all debate, and silence the way to abolition.

To be prostituted, is have the choice whether to smash your head against a wall or to take an overdose.

There are no choices inside the sex trade that are not restricted, or out of the individual prostituted person’s control.

If there is choice, then place it where it belongs – all choice inside the sex trade is held by those who hold the power, i.e. the sex trade profiteers and consumers.

When you prostituted, it is common to survive by believing that you must have free choice, and with choice hold the power and control.

This is a lie, that is placed by the sex trade profiteers and consumers, to emotionally control the prostituted.

To have the false belief that prostitution can be freely chosen and somehow remain within the control of an individual prostitute – is to make invisible the structure of the sex trade that is founded on the degradation and throwing away of all the prostituted.

We should look at what is meant by choice when we speak to or for the prostituted.

Choice is used to freeze the prostituted into a short moment in time, a moment where there appears to be control, appears to be some form of power for the prostitute, appears to look like freedom.

The language of choice for the prostituted excludes all mention of a past, all suggestions of a future beyond the sex trade, all connections to being human.

The language of choice becomes a prison for the prostituted.

I say lets study and focus on the choices of mainly men who make the demand and supply for the prostituted.

If you want to study free choice, it is these men that have that entitlement.

To be prostituted, is to know how limited choices can be made.

It is to know that there is no why as an individual prostitute, you can know or have any control over when, how or where a punter will make the choice to rape you, beat you up, or decide to murder you.

It is to know you have no control or way to have an opinion, when a sex trade profiteer makes the choice to move you to another of the sex trade, to another city, to another country, or just to place you with more sadist punters for yet more profit.

That a small part of the reality of being prostituted that is keep firmly hidden by the language of choice.

This just a short post – but I hope you think, and can add more words to be vanished from the abolition movement.

 

Used Out

I have been ill, ill from exiting, ill from knowing the unknowable, ill from not knowing why I am alive when so many prostituted are dead.

My last post was on how pimp-language increases that illness, an illness with no real name just infecting all the brave exited folks I know or have not meet yet.

This post is a stream of consciousness exploring how hard exiting is – how it affects every moment, even the many moments of joy and sense of moving forward.

Exiting prostitution is never easy, time makes it less painful – but the pain is always background noise.

I truly believed that those who have exited or are on the way to exiting the sex trade are some of the most courageous people that I had the privilege to know and to work alongside with.

They all are warriors – warriors who let in the pain even when it is unbearable, warriors who have the silent screaming of embedded grief, warriors who ask questions without wanting or needing simple answers.

They are looking through the eyes of the warrior who understand genocide was their norm.

They speak through mouths that have been blocked by silence and the violence of male violence.

They listen remembering the sound of lost hope, and hear now the call to freedom and dignity.

They find it hard to smell, as every breath brings dead semen, sweat and cold fear.

They can learn to touch skin without having to be dead inside, without becoming a role, without dreaming of suicide.

I would say if you role-models, heroes, or even a route to a better – look, listen and learn from exited prostituted folks.

We have so much to give, so much knowledge that is constantly silenced.

We can be teachers, we are fighters, we can teach how to laugh at hell at the same as planning to destroy it at its roots.

The lesson I would want all abolitionists to take on board, is not to be afraid of grief, pain and the slowness of real long-term change.

The prostituted have live with that grief, pain and lack of apparent progress for many centuries – and we have through silent passing down of ways of dealing, built up our inner strength and desire to live whatever is thrown at us.

Abolition is slow most of time – but it not going backwards, it is moving forward.

Sometimes there are giant leaps – such as seeing the demand and supply must be criminalized; or seeing that abolition of the sex trade is a human issue, not an issue of labour.

Mostly it is small steps forward, often feeling like we are struck or going backward.

But I do believe the more we allow exited folks to be leaders in the abolition movement – the more the human damage and courage is seen, and the more likely that abolition will come.

We need to learn that pain should always be pushed away.

The more you avoid or bury the pain of the prostituted – the more it screams and crawls it way to have a voice.

The pain that the prostituted have known cannot just be placed into a box, it can learn to be quiet, but always waiting for the time and place to have expression.

It is a pain that all can learn from.

It is a pain that has touch and been inside genocide, and is now a witness to the deadened soul and deep silence that was one reason some of the prostituted survived.

It is a pain that has learnt that male violence is pre-planned, is organised, is not an act of passion but cold hate.

It is a pain where every cell of the prostitute’s body is used and thrown – a pain that there never anything personal about rape, torture or murder of the prostituted, just a consumer with his goods.

That pain must be used as teaching-tool.

We can speak to what male violence is, we know too much, too much so we are told not to speak for male violence gains power by becoming the unspeakable.

To build a permanent road to abolition, we must speak to grief, we must face the depths of grief that is always with the exited.

We carry the grief of knowing the majority of the prostituted have or will never be able to exit.

Oh, some may exit with so much mental damage that in many ways the sex trade still imprisoned, some may exit with illnesses or injuries that shortened their futures, some may not live and commit suicide as the past blocks a route to freedom, and too many are killed coz they seen as throwaway goods.

Every exited person I know of, have the grief of losing prostituted friends – we could not grieve then, but now we fight so no more prostitute goes missing.

A great many exited folks have survivor grief and guilt.

We have no idea why we survived, and too often we collapse thinking of the beautiful and strong prostituted folks who are gone.

It is just luck that we survived – for suicide was our norm or living in order to die, for at any moment we could have been murdered.

All exited folks have experienced near-death on several occasion, whether through self-destruction or male violence.

I attempted suicide at least every 6 months or so, I can remembered punters almost killing me on at least 4 to 7 times.

Living with death was our norm – so no wonder our grief is endless.

Grief is a powerful tool to making real change to justice and returning dignity to all the prostituted.

To allow that silent screaming an expression, is the opening to deeper approach to abolition, is to let out the warrior-spirit, and learn that in silence knowledge can grow.

It is learning to be still enough to see that slow progress is going forward.

Grief open us up to being vulnerable, being confused – but that is not a weakness, it give the humbleness to see we can ask and receive help, as well knowing we will be the helpers.

 

I Would Be Ok with Sticks and Stones

I have been away, away for words used in a casual manner are eating me into wanting to die.

Sticks and stones may hurt you, but words do no harm.

That is just bullshit, and much of the language I will describe is invented or used by the sex trade to control and silence the prostituted, whether exited or still inside the sex trade.

The language that sends daggers into my soul – I will named it as Pimp Language which is used by punters, sex trade profiteers, academics, the mainstream media and liberal feminists – as well men on the Left, men on the Right and Liberal men.

It is a language invented over centuries – though words may change, the meaning of control and silencing has always been the same.

For instance the idea of the sex worker is just an re-invention of the courtesan which is just a re-invention of temple whore.

All those concepts are invented to hide male violence and the prostituted are made into throwaway sub-human goods.

The sex worker/courtesan/temple whore are terms that pretend there can a semblance of choice and empowerment for the prostituted.

This lie is spread into all media, all gossip, all means of communication until it is made impossible that any “real” violence can put into the prostituted.

The temple whore is painted as a goddess, or at the least supernatural.

This is held by the means that is norm of the sex trade in all times, all cultures and is the founding stones that makes the sex trade not crumble.

To call a temple whore supernatural is too convenient – as it always means she feels no human pain, has no desire to leave and can an endless for thousands of men to masturbate into.

She becomes the courtesan, who is allow small amounts of power intelligence as long she always available as a fuck-doll that will be thrown away when she is old or just boring for men.

She becomes the sex worker, who is told she is free and empowered – only to find men will and can be violent her whenever he want, for she is always the whore so owned by men.

It is a system that I named the Alice Through the Looking-Glass Approach – that is a constant brainwashing that bad is good, and bad is the only way to live – a world where sadism is call fun, and all escape is blocked.

To keep the prostituted under the control of sex trade profiteers, it is vital to make all the outside world seemed to there to destroy, or at the minimum unattainable.

Over 4000 years the sex trade profiteers have perfected ways of brainwashing, lying and keeping hidden all outside knowledge from the prostituted class.

This includes giving the prostituted no language expect the language of their oppressors.

So, never say to those of us who somehow manage to survive and exit the sex trade – that it is only words, words don’t.

No if you call yourself an ally for abolition, then learn to shut up and listen hard as we speak to what language and individual word mean to us.

Let me choose some words, some expressions that should either used with great care, or never used when speaking about the conditions of the sex trade.

I choose to start with that word that can bring bile to my throat – “choice” which is often placed like sisters with “empowerment”.

How can the Left and Liberals be so naive or determined not to want to know, that those words were stolen by the sex trade profiteers, and used to manipulate that prostitution is somehow Leftist, is about giving freedom and strength to the prostituted – heck it just a job ain’t it.

Choice is a lovely concept, and for many things it can be wonderful – you choose what music you love, you can choose your friends, you can choose where to have a holiday.

Choice is also a terrible delusion, the language of choice is used to keep the oppressed trapped and silences all questioning of why they are being oppressed.

This is a classic tool of all forms of long-term oppression – and has part of the structure of the sex trade.

To make the prostituted think and believe that it was her free choice to be in the sex trade – is a powerful tool to silence and keep her as a sub-human.

The vast majority if not all of the prostituted are in conditions where her individual choices have no relevance.

Whether the prostitute enter freely or by force, is of little relevance to the punters or sex trade profiteers.

Once you become classed as a prostitute, your individual choices are tossed away – it is impossible to have access to choice, if you are made sub-human sexual goods.

The prostituted are made sub-human – so there is no real violence done to them, no violence for it is decided that the prostituted have no human emotions like hurt, fear or deep grief.

How dare that be named as empowerment.

What is so empowering about being fuck-holes for any and all men?

What is so empowering about being moved from street to street, from street prostitution into a brothel, from city to city, from escorting to inside porn, from country to country, from being a victim prostitute when 14 to an empowered whore at aged 17?

I am so hurting  Рpain is a bit much.

Bloody think before you speak – I am so sick of your language.

A Change is Coming

Last night, Canada become another country that is making hard for men to buy the prostituted. Slowly, there is a change coming.

A change away the so-called norm of men being entitled to buy and sell the prostituted for sexual greed.

A change that it can seen as normal to say prostitution is just a nasty job, but someone has to do it.

A change that makes some women and girls, and some males so sub-human that can be sexually tortured, raped and murdered – and it framed as adult leisure.

I am thrilled that slowly, and on occasions a sudden rush – that prostitution is being seen for what it is.

Seen as a human rights emergency.

Seen as mental, physical and sexual torture.

Seen as the oldest and largest genocide this world has ever know.

I know this is a dangerous time, especially for those of us who are abolitionists and have exited the sex trade.

We are always under attack from the sex trade lobby, that is so normal to us, that we rarely make it public.

Most abolitionists survivors try to ignore the hate and terror sent to us almost every day, hoping they will slowly get bored.

We usually do not publish or acknowledge their constant war on us, we will not give them free publicity or advertisement for their profits on the bodies of the prostituted still trapped in the sex trade.

But I feel on occasions it is vital to speak out against this war on our minds and ability to keep going forward.

First I want everyone on the Left and in feminism, to start taking seriously what is happening to survivors who are now abolitionists – take serious how powerful the sex trade lobby is, and recognised the extreme hate throw at us.

Andrea Dworkin know this hate, and where and why it is targeted at exited women who dare to speak out in particular – she preach that the sex trade are furious that their goods are rebelling, for we should be dead or too damaged to speak out.

The sex trade lobby has total contempt for all the prostituted class, especially those of us who dare to be alive and to be had the strength to say where we came from.

They want us wipe from the face of the earth – preferably without getting their hands dirty by forcing us into suicide.

This is done in multiple ways, but the main weapon is that their attacks are relentless, or it never done by a single “troll” but a highly organised criminal organisations.

This means the sex trade has access to huge amounts of money and people to keep a non-stop low of hate and lies.

They invade Twitter, Facebook, our blogs, our emails, attempt to find our private addresses.

They threaten our mental and physical welfare, threaten our families, and say enough lies that our friends are made to doubt us.

They use our trauma as a weapon to destroy us – saying we were too weak to deal with the “job”, using that we have fragmented memories to “prove” we are liars.

They pretend to be caring – only to say it just a story, and most of prostitution is empowering to women.

They send us invitations to work for them in their lovely brothels – then we can see it not so violent, coz of course they are the friendly caring pimps.

They get punters to write to us to explain how ignorant we are – for we just need to meet the “good punter” to see how wrong we are.

They explain to us how men must have access to the prostituted, coz they are lonely, disabled, unattractive etc. Making out we are evil to deny men that entitlement.

Sometimes, they just lose it saying we too ugly to be a real prostitute, too weak to know our own truths, too sub-human to even be polite to and have a reasonable debate with.

It is their common weapon to tell us that we were never “real” prostitutes – so our tales should be dismissed or shown to be lies.

They say we are paid bags of money to lie about the sex trade.

It goes on an on and on – it is soul-destroying.

Of course, there are highly personal attacks as well as those politics attacks.

We are attacked for being too damaged to know the truth – never that the damage was forced into us by the constant hate and violence that is prostitution.

We are told we are murdering the prostituted by wanting abolition or the Nordic Approach.

It is a slow torture.

I want this to taken seriously, for as the progress to abolition is slowly taking hold – the sex trade lobby will get more aggressive and even less rational.

The attacks on abolitionists who are survivors will get worse – and we need support and your strength.

Thanks.

Contradiction in Terms

This post is written for feminists – to say it is a contradiction in terms to call being inside the sex trade sex work.

This post is a rallying call to stop saying is a labour issue.

This post is saying to all feminists to go deeper into the emotional deadness that is the backbone of all aspects of existing inside the sex trade.

I am and always will be a feminist, a feminist of old-fashioned Dworkinist kind, feminist that believes in learning by listening hard, a feminist who find too much feminism is too timid.

We are too timid to take the measure of the sex trade and to confront by any means.

There is no more direct action against porn and sex trade – just endless conferences, blogs that tend to be read by those who agree with us, and the inaction of Twitter and Facebook “debates”

We are too timid to say and speak the conditions for the prostituted class – especially timid to speak to their common torturing, timid to stare down into their emotional void.

It has become like Andrea Dworkin and her like never existed.

Could it be that the “discovery” that Andrea Dworkin was prostituted, was able to speak to the unique deadness of being inside that world – meant her words were and can be dismissed.

For the history of rebellion against the sex trade has always been about never allowing the voices of those who know the inside of existing that world being made to disappear.

There has always been women and men who have exited the sex trade who have spoken out against it.

Always our voices are silenced, are taken over to fit other’s agendas, has been dismissed as individual stories or signs that all the prostituted are mentally damaged.

The language of rebellion and striving for full human is part of all the prostituted – for we have known genocide, know extreme physical and mental torture, know nothing to us is personal is just commerce.

Our multiple voices can never fit your agendas, never be push back to just facts and statistics, never be truly heard until you can hold and truly heard our haunted emotions.

I write now to feminists, but of this about all our allies.

To hear and be a true ally to exited women is to learn to less timid about hearing dark emotions.

We are angry – but not the simple angry of now, it is an angry of nearly the whole of human history being built on the concept that having a prostituted class is reasonable.

It is an anger of knowing how huge that is – that we cannot just look to our time, place and culture and think solves prostitution and porn.

The sex trade has been embedded in most of this world for the minimum of 3000 years – it is not Western/Eastern thing, is it not a Christian/Muslim/Jewish/Buddhist/Sikh/Atheist thing, it not Fascist/Communist/Capitalist thing – it is part of all of them.

But it is about the male entitlement thing that all male-formed religious and political systems have.

That is why the sex trade can embed itself into the vast minority of cultures or ways that people are controlled by religion or politics. For it can fit in with most cultures which were formed for the benefit of powerful men.

The sex trade is a parasite who go under the skin of every culture and slowly sucks it dry.

In the end, since at the minimum of 3000 years it can be almost impossible to separate the wants and greed of the sex trade from what is considered any individual culture, individual religious/political ways of controlling, or even what make any country stand out.

The skill of the sex trade is to make itself acceptable and view as harm-free by adapting to the culture wherever they see a new market.

That is our anger – the anger of seeing what others make invisible or walk by.

We are grieving.

Our grief is partly the grief of never understanding why we survived, when it is just a fact that the vast majority of the prostituted disappear, lose their minds or are dead.

We have survivor guilt and grief – but we are given no space to speak to that.

I cannot understand a feminism that does allow the prostituted to grieve – to speak to that sense of chance that is surviving the sex trade.

I have seen the grief express round rape in feminism, seen the grief of domestic violence inside feminism, even the grief of childhood abuse laid bare in feminism.

But the grief of the prostituted is made to be small, made that it must stay controlled and always to be acceptable to others.

I am sorry to say this is keeping the prostituted as sub-humans who are not allowed to feel like other women.

Our grief is huge – but your fear of our expression of that grief does not make it smaller.

I want feminism to be less afraid of staring into the darkness of what it is and was to be prostituted.

I cannot understand any form of feminism that is not prepared to learn, and to be quiet enough to hear exited women.

After all, we are witnesses to what male violence and control is.

We are and were at the coal-face of patriarchy.

We know in our bodies, in the killing of our emotions, in becoming sub-human – what it is to owned and manipulated by pure male power and sense of entitlement.

We know without any doubt that all male sexual violence is never accidental, or an one-off, or some mental slip – it is planned and an act of power done by very ordinary men.

We have live being sub-human – being holes to masturbated into, being a mouth/anus to be penetrated, to being a piece of meat to fuck until dead or made nothing.

You cannot understand the reality of being prostituted until you know beyond facts what it is to be brought and sold, what it is to be sexual goods that are passed around.

You cannot understand our realities if you do factor in grooming, the skill of all punters/consumers and sex trade profiteers to mentally break down the prostituted.

You will never understand the sex trade if you do see how they can control their sexual goods – often till the point that it the oppressed who become recruiters.

I believe for feminism to move with exited women – it need more courage.

We need to give less space to trolls who are mostly sex trade profiteers or punters.

These trolls don’t listen to anything that feminists or abolitionists say – all they want is tangle us up in endless “debates” that go nowhere, hoping to grind us down or at the least prevent the practical work of forging abolition going forward.

Feminists need to stop speaking over or for the exited women, especially to stop using our ideas and words and saying you invented them.

Feminists should not treat resistance to the sex trade as something new – but know it built on a long and very noble legacy.

Feminists should be so scare of looking in the void of what it was and is to be in the prostituted class.

I want to get back the courage that I call the spirit of Dworkin, the spirit of every Whore who woke up and saw her reality.