Rejection by a Trick Should Not Hurt. But online Reviews Devastated
December 21, 2021 Additional Commentary to a Top Post
It is always difficult to believe that you should or should not feel a certain way, only to find your emotions betray you by giving in to the feelings you do not want to have. When it comes to being an adult services provider, you know that you “should” not care what the client thinks of you personally. He does not know you, and although there are exceptions, in most cases, he is not interested in getting to know you. You do not know his name, he does not know yours, and there is no need to be forthcoming with identifying information. You are probably not going to have a lasting relationship outside of this strictly transactional rendezvous. What difference does it make if this guy thinks you are overweight, or too old, or calls your breasts “cute little saggers.” What does it matter that the guy says, “I like you because I am over my desire for young, gorgeous women.” Are you really supposed to consider the question he poses after the encounter: do you think what you do separates you from God? You understand that you are there to perform a service, just like a plumber or an electrician. You want to get your money and get out of there. Not everyone is nice, you are well aware of this simple reality, so why trip out?
But what do you do? You trip out when you hear criticism. Naturally, making yourself vulnerable by doing something private opens your heart when you want to keep it walled shut. But let’s be realistic. You know yourself. Even if you were a plumber or an electrician you would be hurt by criticism. Not all providers are addicted to drugs, but typically the ones who work the streets have issues with addiction, in Honolulu the addictions are drugs and gambling which vie for the #1 spot in the lives of the sufferers. Addicts have behaviors and thinking patterns that are standardized. One of the addict behaviors that is normal for this subpopulation is the hyper-senstitivity to criticism. We addicts are self involved people who never tire of engaging in conversations about themselves as both the speaker and the listener. Isn’t it ironic that these people who get their feelings hurt so easily, and who hold grudges like they specialize in resentments, engage in behavior that society particularly dislikes, which is the addictive drug use/illegal gambling. Many argue that addicts should not be shunned or denigrated but there is little to recommend the countless ways that addicts go about getting the money to pursue their compulsions. Addicts need a lot of money every day and they would never be able to hold down jobs because their minds are too caught up in the obsession. What you have to do to get money you do not deserve, and get it right now, well, those actions are not nice. They shoplift, steal identities, rob their families, pretend to need funding to pursue cancer treatment, sell drugs, work as prostitutes on the streets (where people can see providers trying to get customers and this negotiation is not appropriate for public view). Addicts in Honolulu refer to whatever they do for their hustle as “work.” The most innocent of “jobs” is panhandling, but society is not going to look kindly upon the people who accost them as they exit 7-Eleven, while staring hungrily at the hand holding the change from the convenience store purchase.
No, people don’t like what we do, and what we have to do, to do what we do. And we agree with these people! We have been these people! For sure, there was no one who would have had a greater contempt for me than the old me who had never flicked a lighter or so much as seen a drug outside of a high school health class textbook. We never thought we would live like this. Yet, criticism from people still hurts. The personal insults from tricks who see more of us than the people trying to dodge the panhandler outside of 7 Eleven are not any easier withstand. People think addicts do not care what society thinks of them, but it is not true. We care deeply. We just don’t let anyone else’s disapproval of who we are or what we have become, stop us. However, as we go about our business, we are torn up with what we have heard about ourselves. One thing we are not is surprised. Rarely do we hear a criticism we have not already used against ourselves, and we are almost always harsher with ourselves than other people are with us. We are labeled outcasts and we re-affirm our untouchable status every thinking moment.
Original January 2019 Post
I have worried that if I am honest about my pain in my posts that people would think I was just feeling sorry for myself and dismiss my writing as the same rehashed sob story.
I need originality because I want this site to be something special. I don’t have anyone my life. To take the honesty up another painful notch I am going to admit that people don’t bond to me. I don’t know if i was damaged in early childhood foster care and developed, or shall I say “mis-developed,” maladaptive social skills. Or maybe i was born already damaged and that’s why long term foster parents told the judge no thank you when offered the chance to adopt me. Either way I came out of that experience unable to sustain relationships. My birth family didn’t look for me, nor were they interested in meeting me. There were no childhood friends or college buddies,and I didn’t even know exactly what i do or don’t do, I only know that people drift away. They might dislike me, but they never feel an emotion as strong as hatred toward me.
Into that lonely existence came drugs, which necessitated a constant source if quick cash. I was 23, young and beautiful enough to skate in my looks without worrying about my off putting nature.
In fact, the indifference people felt was an asset. My inability to stir strong feelings made me feel safe in a high risk occupation like meeting up with strangers, often for sex, but not always. What always happens is that I was alone with unknown men, totally at their mercy. And unbelievably, in spite of everything I had been taught to expect , I never had a trick hurt me. I’ve never been hit, sexually assaulted, stalked. Because i don’t matter enough. After years of work in the same place I have had only a handful of regulars. I was never a kept woman but depended on the kindness of a succession of strangers. I was always ashamed that I couldn’t cut it as a sugar baby, and this is easily the most embarrassing truth I’ve shared with you my dear readers. I owe imthe truth to you because you are the only people who seek me out on a regular basis. I’m honored.
I once had a friend who had been a medic in Vietnam he was a black man and I think he cared about me before he died. He used to scold me and say quotation marks you always be falling in love with the tricks! Quotation marks. That’s not what you’re supposed to do I wouldn’t see it that I fell in love all the time but I did care what they thought. I recall one heartbreak I thought we had had a good time. We actually had a good conversation, and I looked forward to seeing the person again then I read the online review he posted. Not good: he didn’t like my place he said it was a mess, which it was at the time he had assured me that it was all right, that he didn’t mind but of course he did. he mentioned that we had a great conversation but I was good company, I looked good but that he would not repeat. And those small limp phrases seared my heart I have the most superficial connections? Did God make me do flawed that spreading my legs isn’t enough to bring people back. my friend who died had once laughed at me and said it was convenient for me to make my problems a cosmic conspiracy because then I did not have to take responsibility. before he died he had been helping me to see where I went wrong socially, all the little things that I was not aware of until he mentioned them to me. No one understood that even though I have this great vocabulary I have no idea how to proceed socially and have no idea why I go so very wrong I only know but nothing has changed. And I live in fear that I will grow too old to be able to pander my physical where’s because then we’ll I have I hope I will have my writing because if not… no I dare not contemplate