And I’m a Christian, monogamous and modest.
Here’s my story.
When I started this whole thing, I was nearly fully covered. I figured I would sell a few panties, make some cash and quit. Little did I know, I fell in love with the job and it has a name. Sex work.
Now growing up, I thought sex work strictly meant prostitute and fortunately, I learned a lot after getting into this field. I’ll get to the point shortly but bear with me for a minute.
My initial panty selling was just my lower half. Only the parts of me showing a panty. Then I would show more but blur out my tattoos and my breasts. Then I would show my breasts. Then maybe show a tattoo. I would wear masks in my pics and vids. Then eventually I just decided to take it all off, mask and all and that was a HUGE decision, plus not an easy one.
Going mask-less and showing it all isn’t for everyone and I totally respect that. It’s absolutely a personal decision and it worked really well for me, but it wasn’t something I would have done years ago.
Since I was a teenager, I wanted to be a model. I even went to a modeling school, did magazine type shoots and runway stuff for local pageant type things, but due to my height, I wasn’t considered the “right look” for modeling. At only 5’7’’, I was considered short. I also was told many times to lose weight. I was shy and very modest, so I wouldn’t do a lot of things the modeling “people” wanted. They asked me to lose weight and I got so skinny that my mom eventually got a little worried. I was a size 4 at my smallest and for my frame, it was just way too thin. When I was still not good enough for modeling, I gave up. But I was determined to find something that worked for me.
Image was a huge focus growing up. I grew up in a strict religious household and church and my image was a reflection on my parents, so I always had to look my best. It was a lot of pressure on a girl who didn’t know where she fit in. I wore glasses, had constantly fluctuating weight, dark freckles and hated dresses. I was a tomboy and I was okay with that, but it wasn’t okay with what I thought society and my church wanted from me. As I got older, I got more depressed and confused. Wearing too much black, my eyeliner was too dark, my boots were too punk, the music I loved was too secular. I couldn’t express myself in any way and I was so confused, and I was told all of this was wrong.
As you could probably imagine, I went a bit nuts when I hit 21 and it was legal for me to buy beer. I got my first “real” boyfriend, had my first sexual experience, drank A LOT and hung out at hard rock shows and around people who did nothing but smoke pot and surf. It was cool for me. I loved it, but I still felt out of place. I felt almost invisible. Something wasn’t right and I figured out many years later that it wasn’t my clothing, the people I was around or the music, it was me. It was my own head telling me that everything about me was wrong. I would tell myself I wasn’t thin enough curvy enough, tattooed enough, tan enough, my boobs weren’t big enough, my butt wasn’t small enough and I didn’t measure up. No one said this to me, but me. I am sure it came from many sources, but in the end, it was my mind that told my heart I wasn’t good enough.
After a sexual assault in my mid-twenties, I felt as if my body wasn’t my own. I felt like I should dig way deep down inside and hide there. Showing myself was wrong, shameful and not what good, Christian girls did. And after my assault, I felt like I committed the ultimate sin. I blamed myself. Because of this I drank a lot and began self-mutilating. I felt so much shame that I thought my body did this to me and it didn’t deserve to be pretty. I drowned all my shame in alcohol and it took a lot of trauma to realize I couldn’t do it alone.
Now a days, we are bombarded by images of what media thinks we should be or look like. Instagram or YouTube, on Twitter or Facebook, but fortunately, the body positivity movement is huge and it’s growing, which is amazing and that is a big reason I kept doing what I’m doing now.
Yep, I told ya I’d get to the point!
Once I started showing my body, all my body, I started feeling something I had never felt before—empowerment.
That was something I put a lot of thought into. It was not overnight, and I struggled with it. When I finally did it though, I felt like I stripped off a part of myself I was afraid of and took back control of my body and my mind and that was the most important thing to me.
I could do anything and everything I wanted and no matter what anyone said, it was accepted. The fetish community was supportive and uplifting. I could show my size 16 curves, my 197lbs of butt and tummy with its rolls and still be considered sexy. I was told I was beautiful, stunning and delicious. I was told things about myself that no one ever said to me and the best part? I believed it.
See, strangers have nothing to gain by complimenting you when they are surrounded by thousands of women with different shapes, sizes and colors. They don’t have to tell me nice things, they can do it to anyone, but when they did it to me, I believed it. Believing it made me feel no longer invisible. Believing it took work, but the fetish community helped it seem a lot less daunting.
Being a sex worker, gives me control. I am in control over my body. I am control of what I share and how I share it. Deciding to sell my panties and do videos and other types of adult work gave me back control. It allowed me to understand that it’s okay to be sexy and sexual and remain in control of my body. No one, not my buyers, not even my husband owns any part of me and realizing that was the start of my healing process.
One of the biggest parts of being a sex worker that I love is I control who I give myself to. I no longer feel like I owe anyone a part of me. I am married and monogamous. Just because I am sex worker doesn’t mean I want to or will have sex with anyone else. I strictly separate my work and my personal life and that’s part of the control I need.
I can honestly say that I feel better now than I ever have. I am still healing every day. I have depression, severe anxiety, nightmares even. I see a doctor and I am being taken care of. My life is up and down, but I’m human and that’s my story. The greatest part of my story is being a part of a community that is supportive and that shares my story. I’m not alone and I don’t have to be.
Just like this job, my faith is a personal thing, too and I believe I am okay. I have a personal relationship with God and that’s between me and God. God has helped me through this process and I don’t believe he would want me to suffer, but he would want me to heal. I don’t believe God is ashamed of me and I don’t believe anything I am doing is wrong.
Outside of sex work, I am just an average 42-year-old woman. I pray everyday, don’t go to church or read the bible. I go to online twelve-step meetings, I make jewelry and rescue cats. I have my insecurities, but I work on them daily. I like to dress in shorts and a tee shirt, flip flops. I still dress quite modest and that’s my choice. Not because I want to cover anything up out of shame, but because I want to be in control of when I show it and who I show it to.
That’s my story.
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