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 – and 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  – pain is a bit much.

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

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.

You are Nothing

How do I explain what it is and was to be prostituted?

How do I explain, express and try to show what it is to be made nothing?

I have tried with my words on this blog, on Facebook, in speeches and informal discussions to speak to the centre of that black hole. Only to feel my words always just skim the surface.

How is it possible to speak to nothing?

Nothing will come from nothing is the saying that runs riot in my head – leading to a place where despair appears relaxing.

I need to see the ways I was made nothing.

I need to know that being nothing had some meaning.

I need to hold nothing that was my existence and learn to forgive enough to grieve

Then maybe something can be made of nothing.

I feel and deeply believe that push towards full abolition for all the prostituted, we must explore the emotional losses and psychological damage that is the legacy of being prostituted.

We need to think outside of facts, look in grief, stare at confusion and hold hands with terror.

We must learn to be at home with messy emotions, and to learn that some trauma cannot not be repaired only be a shadow.

I feel the abolition movement pushes away the multiple voices of survivors of the sex trade, coz they appeared too messy, too stringent, too full of pain/anger.

But the more you silenced our voices, the more we will appeared to be awkward, too demanding and like a constant scream that follows you around.

We are the ghosts at your celebration, we are the shadow that whispers there is so much more that must be done, we are the black cloud that causes you headaches.

For the constant dismissal of the multiple voices of survivors of the sex trade – except a tiny few who fit your preconceived image of what an exited woman is – is the larger barrier to having full freedom of the prostituted class.

I believed the refusal to listen and hear with any depth our voices comes from a refusal to know and hear negative emotions, or hears ours truths may not easy solutions or fit inside a neat feminist/Leftist box.

To refuse to hear and know the emotions of what it is and was to be prostituted, is to keep us as sub-human, maybe at the best as pets you only bring out on special occasions.

You are keeping us sub-human, as you only allow survivors to speak out under your agenda.

If we dare speak beyond a feminist or leftist agenda, we are put back into a box, and the lid is shut until it felt our language has become your language.

But our truths, our experiences and our pain is more than political debate, more than an example you can learn from, more than another horror story you can tick off.

We remembered the centre of what it is and was to be tortured, we remembered what patriarchy feels likes as it poisons every cell in our bodies.

We speak to emotions that had to be murdered in order that our bodies somehow survive whilst numb to all reality.

We know what evil is as we know how sex trade profiteers operate, and remember in our bodies that punters never accidentally destroy us.

Would you be able to truly hear, hear enough to quiet enough to learn, how we got through that hell – or would prefer we stay safe with “facts” and statistics?

Well, I for one want to go deeper than facts, I want to explore the heart of darkness that made me into nothing.

I want and need to know that part of my life for it made me for good or bad.

I live with trauma, I live with body memories, I live with fragmented memory – all this was forced into me by prostitution. So I want and need to know who I was then to maybe understand who I am now.

I do this for me – but more I hope I can make connections with others who have survived the sex trade, and have huge gaps of loss and memory.

Those survivors are my family, my purpose and my touchstone.

I want to be clear that all forms of prostitution should be classed as torture, that all forms of prostitution is the destruction of human rights and the human soul.

There can never be any reason or excuse for the existence of prostitution – all so-called reasons are just selfish, self-justifying and comes from the idea that all the prostituted are too sub-human to have access to human rights.

So each time you hear, you read or even if you think there is some kind of prostitution that can be made ok – then know you not silencing survivors of the sex trade. but forcing a dagger into our hearts

All forms of prostitution are made to look good by the sex trade – all forms of media will be used to spread the propaganda that we must never look too closely at the conditions that make prostitution.

We must look hard enough to see the dead eyes of the prostituted, we must pretend not to know it is impossible to equate exchange of money/gifts with full consent, we must turn away from ideas like rape industry or paid rape.

We need to refuse to know that if it done to us it would be painful, humiliating, a crime or even an outrage – for we must believed it fine to rape, abuse and tortured the prostituted for they are nothing.

Well, I for one, refuse to allow the easy road of turning away from the terror, pain and confusion that is in all the prostituted.

I for one, need you to see and know that we must know that hell for it man-made and done for pleasure and control.

To be made nothing – nothing but holes for punters to use as living porn-doll.

To be made nothing – nothing than a stereotype of whatever woman/girl/man/boy that the punter wants to use as a fuck-toy.

To be made nothing – nothing can feel no pain or grief as torture becomes the norm.

To be made nothing – nothing as sex trade profiteers pass you round all aspects of the sex trade, move you from street to street, city to city, country to country.

To be made nothing – nothing as lined up like meat for punters to pick.

To be made nothing – nothing as it becomes normal for the prostituted to be thrown away, or just disappear.

This is all planned and organised – but the trick of the sex trade is to make you believe any act of violence done to the prostituted is random, and can be dealt with.

I hope this post makes sense – please write to me what you think.

 

 

So If It Was Bad – How Come You’re Alive Then?

This is an unanswerable question which is always asked of those of us somehow survived the sex trade.

It is unanswerable for we do not know.

Do not know when so many strong and vibrant friends, and folks we did not know were destroyed by the sex trade.

Do not know how we survived many near-death experiences.

Do not know how we woke each morning after many hours of mental, sexual and physical torture.

Do not know how we survived our many suicide attempts.

All we know it against all that was thrown at us we lived.

That should be seen as heroic – there should parades, fireworks, a day of memorial and celebration for all the prostituted.

But our survival is greeted with silence, with embarrassment, with a conscious turning away from any message we bring with us.

For we should have never survived – never of lived, never of remember what it was to be prostituted, never been alive with a voice and the will to make others listen to learn.

The harsh fact of the silencing, ignorance and closing of those of us who have exited the sex trade is we cannot be allowed to be alive enough have a voice.

This is shown on so many levels – whether by the usual suspects of those who benefit in the continence of sex trade, but also by folks who say they are allies of us.

It is shown every time there are records of murders of females – where there is no mentions of the many murdered prostituted women and girls, no mention of those murdered in the porn industry.

These deaths are made invisible, made unimportant – if mentioned mostly as an afterthought to “normal” domestic violence murders.

But – the murders of the prostituted class is happening everywhere, every day, maybe every half hour of every day.

It is considered that women inside the sex trade are at the minimum 12 times more likely to die a violent death that women of similar age and background – it may as much as 20 times more likely.

If it considered that women may dies at least 2 a week from domestic violence – then try to imagine 12-20 times that number.

But this genocide goes on, for the prostituted are never alone to be human enough for their lives to matter.

That means to murder a prostitute is made into a non-event – it becomes just the throwing away of the trash.

The deaths of the prostituted are mostly unreported. If reported, all too often she is made nameless.

If the murdered prostitute is allowed to have a name, her life is narrow down to “just another dead whore”.

The message is clear – we should not mourn the murdered prostituted, that grief should be for “real” women.

Death was the norm when we were inside prostitution.

We learnt that our lives meant nothing – so most of the prostituted grow hardened to the idea of death.

Sometimes the only reminder that we were alive, was finding we could still feel pain or get moments of grief – or even some connection to what it was to be happy.

To have emotions was terrifying – but they were vital to send signals that there more to life than being buried in the sex trade.

Emotions needed to be controlled – for all too often, sex trade profiteers and punters used any sign that we were still human against us.

To show fear encourage more violence.

To cry was to be laughed at, was to made to cry by yet more violence.

To laugh at the ridiculousness of it all was to be punished.

To be quiet was not to put the punter at the centre of everything.

To show anger was placed yourself in grave danger.

To want to protect yourself would make a danger to the sex trade, so you will be thrown away.

I always laugh with bitter tears remembering that deadening all emotions became the way I survived how bad it was.

Often the real meaning of “if it was so bad, how come you’re alive then?” is – why did you do nothing to run away, or report the violence.

Again this very hard to answer, yes there is a surface of easy answers of not knowing how to report, being taught to trust no-one outside the sex trade, not knowing anywhere was safe to run to – but the real answers are deeper and far more tragic.

Most of us who were trapped inside the sex trade have no clear answers is why we did not run – for to be honest, many of us did run away only to find we landed straight back into the hell of the sex trade.

Running away is very hard if you don’t where or who you are running – sometimes going back to what you think you might understand seems the only solution.

It must be been seen that the vast majority of those inside the sex trade comes from backgrounds or experiences that have taught them that they are less than human – and the skill of the sex trade and its profiteers to keep them as sub-human.

Look at the prostituted class and what do you see.

You will see the majority have experienced childhood abuse.

You will see that indigenous and ethnic minorities women overwhelm who is made into the prostituted.

You will see all man-made disasters – wars, famine, poverty etc – are used to recruit the prostituted.

You will see that the sex trade market is about young flesh – under-aged prostitution is the norm not some perversion.

And you will see that the sex trade will prey on all women and girls – for there a market for everything from posh white schoolgirl to Asians in saunas, from high-class escort to street-based prostitute.

The sex trade never will get tired of exploiting and oppressing the prostituted – and by ignoring their violence, you become part of the problem.

 

Pain in My Heart

I am writing listening to 5 CDs of the King of Soul – Otis Redding – and Pain in My Heart digs deep into me.

I have reaching into my heart, trying to see beyond its coldness, desire to be dead. I reach for my heart, and pain is always the cover I have to break down.

I play Otis as his voice breaks into joyful pain, and I learn what life can be.

He reaches beyond my solid wall of ice, and reaches to the many years his voice give me the freedom to cry, scream and kind of sing along with his simple words.

Soul music has given a reason to live – be it Northern Soul, Motown, Atlantic Soul, Stax Records, Gospel or just soul coming down the radio from somewhere I don’t know yet.

My heart is nourish by soul whether sung out of Georgia, Chicago, London, Tokyo, New Orleans, or so many places where music is the voice when all words are lost.

Soul music evolves but keep a solid centre.

Soul music belongs to all who seen, known and survive pain – soul is part of our skin.

Each day soul music reminds pain can be grieve over, each day soul music nourishes hope that pain cannot be forever – and each day soul music give us laughter, desire to dance and sense of freedom even as our oppressors think they have won.

The passion, the simple words, the reaching into all human emotions, the voices of many oppressed makes soul music unconquerable.

I learn in my moments of deepest pain and confusion, that soul music could reach me like no other music could – except Mozart.

Soul music was and is my desire for a future in freedom and justice, soul music was and is my route to know hope can be solid.

Soul music taught me I could still dance even as I thought my body and spirit had been destroyed by punters and the sex trade.

Soul music is the sound of defiance, of staring down those who oppressed us and saying there is deep part of my essence you can never owned or ripped apart.

Soul music was the gift of privacy when I had little or no space to call my own.

I had soul music before and after punters had though they had total control over me.

I scream to Wo-man with Etta, play Do-Right Woman with Aretha, had Dusty make cry with You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me.

It was my medicine, my therapy – it was my door to knowing a world beyond being raped, owned, tortured and being on the edge of death.

There was nothing simple in love of soul music – there is nothing simple in the oppressed discovering freedom.

It was music that connected to other music that had raw edges and give me another American culture to belong.

I grow to love country – especially honky-tonk, bluegrass, Cajun and outlaw country.

I grow to love city Blues.

I grow to love jazz, especially be-bop, swing, jazz/blues singers, New Orleans sound.

I grow to rock ‘n’ roll, especially rockabilly.

I grow to love disco.

Music became my saviour, and music was making my oppression more painful for I became aware that wasnot what I wanted.

I was becoming aware of every rape, aware of all words that made me into dirt, aware that I was nothing.

I begun to sing along with the music played as punters owned me – singing without paying attention, singing to disappear, singing to find a part of me had some defiance.

I placed myself in grave danger by singing or even mouthing the words.

Punters hated that I was human enough to sing, human enough to do two things at once.

I know my singing was my way to say – you don’t own my heart.

You will and can rape close to death; you can and will torture me with words, torture me with ripping at my sexual being, torture me by pretending to kill.

You will and can force me to stay awake, deprived me of food. You can and will smash my body into pieces while you are laughing.

But you – the punter, the sex trade profiteer, the justifier of the continance of the sex trade, the academics who say only Happy Hookers exist, the by-standers who ignore the pain of all the prostituted – you can never take away my music.

And I know you must hate that.

I know that the prostituted were never meant to be human enough to have a space to have the true freedom to love music.

I know that the prostituted were invented to be sub-human sexual goods that have only one purpose – to be living porn-dolls for punters to mastubate into.

We are not meant to hear music, to read books, to even be in shops.

We have no life or purpose beyond being holes and a comforter so punters are never violent to real women and children.

We have no past, no existence outside those punters and the sex trade.

To show even a hint that we are human, is for any prostitute to place herself in deep danger.

Much of the violence done to the prostituted is done when the punter see the prostitute is a person.

I was beaten up for reading, I was raped sadistically when I laugh at the TV, and singing to music was a route to hell.

For the prostituted are meant have no voice, no sense that they could matter, no real intelligence – the prostituted cannot be human.

No, the prostituted are meant to be whatever the sex trade and punters say they are.

A prostitute can be allowed to read or talk clever – as long she knows never to speak as she is raped, and never think her words matter.

The reality of prostitution is that it is assumed that most of the prostituted will be voiceless and nameless.

It is a world where the punters and sex trade profiteers see all the prostituted as interchangeable – as sexual that will be used over and over and over, and then thrown away.

The prostituted are never meant to discover that they are human, and to regain the fight to live, to exit and with great fortune to speak out for abolition.

We are meant to be dead or too damaged to become fully human.

I discover soul music was route to knowing there more to life than the sex trade.