All the stereotypes that are assigned to prostitutes are not ones that I can relate too.
I came from a good family, with a seemingly normal childhood. However, I assign the reasonings of my entering of the sex industry to not having a Father. There is an old saying, “A child without a Father is like a house without a roof.” Often, I sit for hours at night, trying to piece together the reasons I went against social norms and decided to have sex for money. Even more so, how did a girl, from my cultural upbringing, join such an industry? All my conclusions always fall back to the root: not having a proper Father figure significantly tarnished my interactions with men. My second reasoning is: Western Society corrupted my innocence.
I never had a proper Father figure. My parents separated when I was a baby, and although my Mother remarried to a great man (who acted like a Father) I still didn’t have the real thing. My Father has lived and continues to live overseas for my entire life. We had a relationship, in which we traveled the world together, but it wasn’t a normal Father-Daughter relationship. My Father treated me no different from the numerous woman he frequented with. During my teens, I took my Father’s sleazy mentality towards women to heart. He lusted for women for all the superficial and shallow reasons, and I grew up feeling that was normal. Ironically, most of my clients (initially) lust me for the very same reasons……
As mentioned, my origins are from the East. However, I did not have an entirely traditional upbringing. My Mother is a modern woman, whose own childhood was filled with repression, and as result she chose to raise her children (me) in a relatively relaxed manner. Ironically, I often wished my Mother was more strict with me, because her lack of discipline lead to my insatiable curiosity.
My Mother, in her younger days, was a very beautiful and desirable woman. So beautiful, young, and naive…and unfortunately her beauty captivated a womanizing man such a my Father. My Father neglected and mistreated my Mother, as with all the women he’s had. Thankfully, my Mother had more than just her beauty, and she was brave enough to leave my Father. In our culture, divorce, especially occurring 20-odd years ago, was taboo, and sometimes equated to social-suicide in Eastern cultures.
The brick-wall of family security was broken shortly after my birth, but nonetheless my Mother remarried a good man of European stock. I grew up in a middle to upper class neighbourhood, and my peers and I were accustomed to always having the best of the best. In many ways, I was a spoiled child, and overly indulged (which hurts me now, because I struggle with my addiction to money).
When I was a teenager, my innocence faded. I developed insecurities that I believe stemmed from my poor relations with my real Father. I was growing into a woman, a very attractive young girl. I was getting lots of attention from men, and I liked it. Somehow, I believed I had to please everyone. I started to realize how my looks opened doors, and made people like me (the wrong people, of course). However, I had a mind. I was well-traveled as a teenager, and seeing so many countries and cultures didn’t allow me to neglect my mind. The fact that my mind was constantly observing life often lead me to feel depression. Even before I started having sex, I felt depressed knowing that most people only acknowledge me for my beauty, and don’t care about what’s inside.
When I first had sex for money, I was barely of legal age. I was still finishing my last month of high-school. I was conflicted between two sides of myself: the one that was passionate about the world and knowledge, and the other side who was consumed by society and it’s pressures to be attractive. My curious mind lead to look at the “escorting” section of the daily newspaper. I was curious what these ads were about. I didn’t even know what an ‘escort’ was. I thought prostitutes could only be desperate women with heavy drug problems. I had no idea that beautiful girls have sex with business men and get paid for it.
So I tried it. I worked one night. I slept with men, all of whom were decent and treated me with respect. Most of them were business men, some had wives or didn’t. I made a lot of money, and without effort. At that time I had no idea what “good” sex was. I didn’t realize that men got so easily aroused by just looking at me, and that the actual sex only lasts under a minute. I liked the fact that I didn’t have to do anything ‘disgusting’ and condoms were mandatory for my protection. Despite that, I was terrified to do it again after my first try. I never thought I would do it again..
But what happens is that……the money, the lack of effort and the quickness of it….becomes an addiction.
After six months, I tried again. Like the first time, I stopped and swore I couldn’t do it again. But it was just too easy, and the clients treated me so well. So I went back, and it slowly turned into a lifestyle.
…to be continued