Dream Merchant
I am the dream merchant. Sexually open for the world to see. I take much satisfaction in pleasing you however you my like.
Giving you what you want, I get nothing from it but your money. I don’t care if it feels good.....don’t give a fuck if I cum or not. It doesn’t matter to me; I just want your money.
I let my past get the best of me. I let it consume my mind body and soul. And that’s where I fucked up at. So I’ll make you pay for it. No time for intimacy, love or even a decent conversation. You mean nothing to me; I’m good at lying to get what I want from you. And that’s cash. But looking at me, you’ll never know it.
I will make you pay for what they took from me, by any means necessary. I fuckin can’t stand your nasty ass. The way you look, the way you smell everything about you I have.
That past four years I want........no I will make you feel the same pain I did just because I can.
Be careful what you ask for, I might look like eye candy but I will make your life a living fuckin hell...
©Golden Rays
I’m watching Bill Cunningham show and they are talking to this one female who is prostituting herself for money. She’s almost 30 and she does things for money. Well her friends are one the show to tell her how she needs to change for her daughter and how she’s destroying her life and how she doesn’t care about her child. So the one who was prostituting was like my daughter is taken care of, she’s not here, I can’t see her so who cares. We’ll all three of them are yelling at each other to the point of being loud and annoying. So then she finally came out and said what was going on with her.
She told her friends how she was tired of being raped and abused, how she was abused by her family since she was a child, how her ex-boyfriend had been abusive to her. The men she was with was abusing her. She told her friends that she prostitutes because it’s the only way she deals with the pain that she doesn’t care because she’s tired of feeling lonely and used.
Her friends response was who cares yours still a whole, you’re still selling yourself and their whole conversation ended up being both her friends calling her a weak ass bitch.
I have a lot to say about this whole topic. I understand completely what that woman is going through, I’ve been there before. I’ve hit rock bottom and almost lost my family. A lot of people do not understand the wounds of child abuse/rape and how deep they go. They don’t understand that something that happened to you when you were 5 can affect you until the day you die. It’s a wound that you can’t see and because it happens a while ago from the time we actually come out and speak about it, people automatically assume that we should be over it by now. That we have no reason to complain, that we weren’t killed so that makes it ok. They down play the whole situation and the victims feelings.
We don’t choose to carry around these feelings with us every day. If only you knew how hard it is to get up in the morning and move because it feels like your vagina is being ripped apart because the body memories you’re having from the rape you experienced as a child. Or walking around every day trying to eat because your gag reflex is so bad that it’s hard for you to swallow food because of the oral sex you were forced to perform. They don’t know about the nightmares, the flashbacks, and the anxiety that comes along with it. They don’t understand the shame we feel because it does affect our families. The blame we have when we do into a new relationship and our partners can’t touch us. It all comes along with it.
On the other hand I also understand why she started prostituting. They say that a lot of prostitutes were abused as children which make them more susceptible to being prostitutes, using drugs, being in relationships with abusive partners.
“For many women, prostitution and sexual exploitation might be the only life they know. The average age for girls entering prostitution is between 12-13. ** And studies show that 75 to 95% of all prostitutes were sexually abused as children. ***
http://www.womenslaw.org/simple.php?sitemap_id=148”
I understand how she’s feeling because after I was attacked when I was living on my own I freakd out. At the time I had so much stuff going on with me. I had just started to having bad flash backs again and one night I went out with a girlfriend, I wasn’t drinking I wasn’t smoking anything I was just me and her and I was raped. I don’t remember anything because I had been slipped the date rape drug. My ex- husband (he was my boyfriend) found me on our front door leaned up against it damn near unconscious with a bottle in my hand. I don’t drink cheap alcohol but that’s what was in the bag. I had remembered some parts of it, I don’t remember his face just certain things. Shortly after that rape I was robbed and a friends boyfriend tried to assault me. Frank had started coming around and threatening me because of my ex best friend.
Within that short period of time (a 6 month period) I had been raped, robbed and assaulted and harassed by Frank who was the first man to rape me. I was dealing with the flashbacks from being molested, the body memories from Banky and I had no one to talk to. Me and my ex had broken up because I couldn’t deal with my flashbacks, he told me I had too many issues and I needed help. I didn’t have anyone to go to. I didn’t have support from my family. They blamed me for the rape, my friends at the time thought it was all a joke and I had lost my best friend because I couldn’t deal with the feelings from being abused.
I had actually thought about stripping. But I quickly changed my mind. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to degrade myself, it wasn’t because I thought about my morals it was I thought I was too fat and too ugly to be a stripper, that no man would pay me to take off my clothes and dance for them. So I had seriously considered being a prostitute. It wasn’t even for the money for me. I had felt like if men are going to take it from me why not make them pay for it. What am I getting out of it but being hurt? If they are going to hurt me I could at least get something out of it. I was so use to being used that it was the only thing I knew and felt. I didn’t have friends to talk to, my family wasn’t supportive emotionally, I thought my ex hated me because he was always gone and I was left there by myself all day every day I just didn’t care anymore. As much as I thought about it and as much as I planned in my mind what I was going to do. I never did it. I was never bold enough to do any of it.
The thing about sexual abuse is that it has emotional tolls that damage you more than the actual physical abuse does. If one of my friends called me a weak ass bitch it would probably be the end all of everything. I don’t consider myself weak but I have felt weak before and it’s the most hurtful thing ever to say to a victim (besides blaming them or saying they asked for it). It’s something inside you that hurts so bad that you can’t explain it to other people. It’s a piece of you that gets broken apart and now you have to spend the rest of your life trying to put it back together again. No one understands it unless it’s happened to you before. The outside world just doesn’t get it.
What hurts us more is hanging on to being used to getting abused. After a while after the attacks and emotions we often fall into that victim mode. Where we couldn’t get the help we needed at the time and being a victim is all we know. So sometimes it’s the life that we live every day. It’s so dangerous because when you live the life of a victim it does sendoff vibes to predators. It’s like they pick up on these senses, that’s what they’re good at. It makes us more susceptible to more attacks and assaults. This is not our fault but we can change it with the help of other survivors and advocates.
People may think that we are using what happened to us as an excuse but we aren’t. We don’t want to feel this way, we are just telling you what happened and how we feel about it. We do understand our actions just like you do. We know that we can get through this but telling us to get over it is not one of the ways, especially when we finally do decide to reach out for help.
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