Stalling for Time – Child Prostitution, Adult Prostitution, and the Obscure In-Between from the Prostitution Experience

As I continue to stall for time while I am bogged down with other writings I wanted to share something with you that came across my desktop the other day that might not wind up on your desktop that I think is significant.  This is not a subject that I feel any legitimacy or competency in addressing myself, but never the less I think it is a very important issue, namely prostitution and the sex-trade.  Fortunately my internet antennae are tuned to some excellent sources who can address the issue from rather unique points of view.

This subject of this post came to me originally through Stella at My Body The City:The Secret Life of a Manhattan Callgirl, which linked to this article:

The issue of child prostitution and its supposed alter-ego, adult prostitution, are personal to me because I’ve experienced both, having been prostituted between the ages of fifteen and twenty-two.

I sometimes think of what those who knew nothing of me would have thought of me, as they caught glimpses of me, on the different stages of those seven years.  Who doubts that the majority would have looked at my young teenaged self and wondered what sort of world we lived in?  And who doubts, if they’re honest, that many would have looked at my young adult self and wondered what sort of women populated it?

This is the dichotomy of adult and child and they are viewed as very separate, very distinct, so that there is a clearly perceived line between these stages, these ages, but in fact it is not a line.  It is a bridge.  It is a bridge that spans the in-between; that gap that connects the points in the lives of so many women who were prostituted first as children then as adults.  I lived that bridge in my own prostitution life, when I was turning from a child into a woman, and I was used sexually for money on most of the days that made up my adolescence, as I was before in childhood and afterwards in early adulthood.  And here is the crux of the matter: it was all the same nightmare to me.

Please continue to the rest of the article at TheProstitutionExperience.


Abolition-Love Letters to Our Secret Lives

Every once in a while, unexpectedly, I encounter a reality so crystally clear and real that I have to say to myself, “time to pack it in, fold it down, close up shop, there is nothing I can really say here that contributes ANYTHING to advancing the human condition”.  This has been one of those days.

I noticed I had a visitor, so I followed her home, this is who found there…

An Ex Hooker’s Letter to Her Younger Self

There is really nothing more I can possibly say, except – read this – if you are a man especially, read this.

I feel like such a punter.