Ever since the porn convention last weekend in Los Angeles, I KNEW writings would pour out of my heart at different times. One of those times was yesterday, but as I was talking about it with Lee through tears, I was unable to express my heart through writing, until now.

On Sunday morning, I’d been overwhelmed and crying inside because I knew the emotions these women (and men) will experience, if they decide to travel on the road to freedom. It may be hard to understand, if you’ve never been there, but since I HAVE been, I’ll try to describe it.

Even though many people know a lot about me, there’s more to be found out.

When I’d started attending church for my kids, I sat in the pews with many secrets but with only one thought: if they really KNEW who I’d been, they wouldn’t let me be there. I didn’t feel I was worth saving, but my thought process was all messed up.

That’s what dancers and people in the sex industry don’t understand: what they “believe” isn’t the truth.

When I was “in it,” I knew I had power and liked it. I kept the men hanging on and the women at bay. Sex was something I couldn’t live without, and I worked to support my drug and alcohol problem. [Actually, working in the club is what STARTED my drug and alcohol problem.] When I realized I could have people PAY for sex, for me, it was a win-win situation, until later.

Do you know that the dirtiest I ever felt is when I DIDN’T get paid?

Do you understand what I just wrote: when I DIDN’T get paid for sex, I felt dirty. Selling my body had no effect on me. When I DIDN’T get paid for dancing, I felt used. When I DIDN’T have enough alcohol on my shift, I felt unworthy…etc.

I’m not sure when deception became my normal, but it had. Even my first day working in the club ended with me believing a lie. I’ll never forget it, so I’ll take you back there.

Actually, I’ll take you to the interview process: I walked into the club and sat at the bar. The manager came out to meet me, looked me up and down, and said, “You’re hired,” so I came in the next day.

In San Diego, you need to obtain a dancing permit to dance in the clubs, and you obtain one by going through the police department. [Well, it “used” to be that way…not sure what it is now.] Anyway, that cost money, so I needed to make money first and began as a cocktail waitress.

As I walked around in my skimpy clothes serving drinks, I received SO many compliments of how beautiful I was. You have to understand: I wasn’t raised being told I was beautiful, so this was all new to me, and immediately I “knew” THAT’s what I’d been missing my whole life. I’d “finally” found my way…what I was meant to BE.

When you don’t know the truth of who you are, you’ll become anything.

This counterfeit beauty was hard to let go of and was missing, when I was away from the lifestyle.

To see your beauty without having sex, to see your worth without a drink, to be friends with men and not use them, to be friends with women and not accuse them…it was ALL new to me…ALL foreign…but lies (eventually) fell away with many tears.

My heart aches, equally, for the men and women still in bondage.