Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Part 4, My Life Had to Get Worse Before It Got Better

I don't even know what to title this portion of my life. Total insanity.

We did this swapping partner thing for about a year and what happens next is so horrible I am not sure I can ever forgive myself for what I had turned in to and what I did. I still feel shame to my very core and only one person in the world knows about this part of me. I haven't finished my 4th and 5th steps and am pretty sure this will have to be included in it. I am praying for the courage to do that.

At this time we were having some financial difficulties, not totally broke, and probably not much different than other married couples with kids, car payments and a house. It wasn't as though we couldn't pay our mortgage or put food on the table but money was very tight.

One day when we were alone and having a rare, quiet, happy moment together my husband suggested that if I was already sleeping with men why not do it for money.    My first reaction was disbelief that he would suggest such a thing.   I told him that I would absolutely never do such a thing. 

But the seed had been planted and the next time he brought up the topic I was more receptive to listening to him.  It was the summer of 2004 and I remember this because there was something in the news about escorts and prostitutes at one of the politcal conventions.  He had done some research and some of these women were making thousands of dollars a day. 

Somehow he convinced me that it was ok and that I was doing it for my family.  No one would ever know and that it was a temporary solution to our money problems. I want to add here that he never forced me to do this. I agreed.

And so for the next year that is what I did. He helped me set up a website and took pictures and voila, men were emailing and I met with them in hotel rooms and sold my body for money.

It’s not easy leading a double life full of secrets and shame. But, today as I reflect back on my life I can see that pattern started at an early age with my family of origin. Years later I still had that fake smile plastered to my face pretending to the world, and sometimes to myself, that all was fine. Even when the pain inside was too much to bear.

No comments:

Post a Comment