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I grew up like some kids, not like all kids. But I think I had a pretty normal life. I was born in the early 1990’s and my baby/toddler photos show some really funky-looking clothing and a bad bob cut I gave myself at the age of four with a pair of scissors. I grew up in a little no-nothing town and my biggest concerns were the flavor of Kool-Aid I was served, my dog, and jumping on couch cushions.

As I grew up, I had many aspirations. My dad worked in health care and I saw him save people and heard the stories. My mom was my rock, my go-to for everything from questions about where I came from to questions about boys, algebra (she was aces with mathematics), and which hairstyle flattered me the most. As a little girl, I wanted to be a great many things. I began reading at the age of three and my imagination grew by the day. I remember a year where the only thing I ever wanted in the whole world was to be a dolphin training veterinarian who had great architectural skills (which would assist in building my own house that I “drafted” on grid paper). Another year, I figured I would be a gypsy (having just finished a great book on the subject of nomadic adventures) and live life on a whim.

But whether it was aspiring to become a doctor, a gypsy, a teacher, a rock star… one thing was constant in my dreams; adventure. I wanted to travel, to get out of the “nothing town” I lived in. Even as a kid, I wanted respect, power, and the ability to do what I wanted. Sure, it’s a selfish, childish dream… but doesn’t everyone want the power to control their own destiny? If you say “no”, then you’re a “sheeple” (sheep person) or you’re just lying to yourself.

I knew I had to work hard, go to school, study, and make a name for myself. I didn’t pop out with a silver spoon in my mouth… I wasn’t in poverty but I wasn’t wearing silk diapers either. My father was an EMT and my mom worked part-time. As I grew up, my dad went back to college and they started home schooling my brother and me. School was hard on my dad… going back at his age and with our household’s lack of predominant income level. Things were strained in my house growing up. Despite that, I worked hard, I studied, and when I turned 17, I graduated high school soon after. Don’t feel bad for me… people out there have experienced much harsher upbringings than I did. I don’t regret anything about my life… every circumstance contributed to the person I have become. And while some people may frown upon me and my choices… I’m a strong, independent person and I’m proud of who I am.

Home Schooling sheltered me despite the fact that I didn’t want it to. When I got to college, I was prepared academically (I even CLEP’d a few classes), socially I was far from perfect. Sure, I had all the confidence of someone who had “seen it all” and was tough as nails. What I wasn’t prepared for was the fact that not all people have good intentions.

These are all stories I can come back to, but suffice it to say the following…

After an experience with one of the first guys I met as a freshman, my next few relationships were short-lived and I blew them up… or maybe it wasn’t so much entirely me. So a year of college, a great job (lasting a year before a lay-off), four lost friendships, one broken heart (later mended), and one destroyed self-image later, I met someone very important.

He was the first one who looked past my stubborn, rough exterior and peeled away the layers to find someone tender and a little broken. He was the first one to hear about that experience with a guy that left me scarred—and when I broke down in tears, he held me. There has been so much love in everything he has said to me, every fight we have had, every tear I have shed (though I like to keep them few), every embrace, every teasing pun or shove… People talk about the time they fell in love with their best friend. There was never a time for me and mine.

I have always loved him.

But this isn’t just about him… I’m taking some time to pour my thoughts out here, about me, my life, and where I have taken it.

We have made one of my dreams a reality. I’m not in that “little nothing town” anymore. And right now, I am just where I want to be. But that year of college left me feeling broke and with no hopeful prospects of changing that. The prices of everything is rising, bills need paying, and I’ve come close to losing everything so many times. I always told myself I would never be a quitter—I never planned on changing that promise.

I live in one of the most expensive places in the country… I want to go back to school, I finally know what I want to do. I’m apparently poor enough to barely scrape together money for bills and rent, but not poor enough to receive government assistance that I have seen people with diamonds, Louis Vuitton purses, and iPhones on Verizon’s network receive. I have held my head high and stared blankly at walls, hoping to receive that small bag from a food pantry in the neighborhood. I found that prayers never really worked for me and when I tried them as a kid, nothing was ever accomplished. If you want something done, you’ve got to do it yourself, not sit on your butt and hope.

So here it is… by day I’m a lingerie saleswoman who gets a four hour work week at a minimum hourly wage. By night? Well, most nights I’m at home, actually. Sure, some nights I go out… but that’s just when the nights at home are slow and the prospects of the city night are high. By night I’m an adult performer. Webcams and stripping. Am I ashamed? No. Am I being taken advantage of?

Hahaha… who is the one dropping twenties to see a pair of tits they could see for free from a quick Google search? Me? No. So who’s being taken advantage of? Me, or those guys emptying their wallets to hopefully sate a desire ingrained in their DNA? Hmm. I guess I’ll let you decide that. I do what I can to survive, and if you don’t like it… well stop reading, ‘cause you won’t like much else I have to say.




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