My last few therapy sessions have been oddly informative.

I’ve realized I have to not only call a truce between the side of myself that believes in fighting for women’s rights, and the side of me that still believes that all I will ever amount to is a whore… I have to make them get along too.


See, here’s the thing –

I can’t go anywhere outside my bedroom and feel like I belong. Like I am on the same plane as others. I am convinced I am a corrupting influence on others, and that my taint will infect others. Kinda like Lady Macbeth scrubbing her hands clean when there is nothing upon them. Ya, that’s me. Just swap blood for body fluids (TMI, I know).

So my therapist tells me I have a koan to crunch on mentally. The riddle being, how do I remove the taint? Obviously, logic doesn’t work with this. I’ve scrubbed myself clean in showers and baths, I’ve gotten love and acceptance from other people, I found God, I’ve expressed my hellish past in my writings….

And yet…


I started writing about my first experience as a “pro”. I managed to describe everything up til the actual act. Then I froze. Then I got pissed at myself.

What am I censoring myself from? And whom will judge what I write in the privacy of my own laptop, in my bed? (besides myself)

I guess the truth is that my confidence in my sexuality has taken a major hit in the last several months. And since that is the ONE area of my life I have always always always been confident in… I feel like a part of me is lost. Whether or not this ends up being a good thing remains to be seen. It’s effing weird though.

But I promised my therapist I would bring my “first time” story. Which I guess means I have to complete it within the next week.

Anyways. Back to brooding.

Stay Safe.


  1. stellamarr says:

    Lady MacBeth — That’s what we feel right — about being a whore – that “what’s done cannot be undone” feeling. It isn’t true of course, in our case. Because:

    “In the absolute meaning there are no whores. There are people in prostitution for a longer or shorter period of time. There are no ‘types’ of people, no characters. They are people who have ended up in a certain situation. … One puts themselves in another’s place and imagines themselves under different circumstances. It is to look into someone else’s eyes and see yourself. And with this insight comes also an insight into the cruelty of the system which has made her into a ‘type’.”

    –Kajsa Ekis Ekman

    Love to you xo

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