Personal and Professional Stories of A Working Human
I was very overweight after dating my first boyfriend. Or maybe I wasn’t. I’m not sure because he used to tell me I was fat all the time so all I saw was fat.
After my first boyfriend I had a string of lovers (fuck buddies more accurate? I just hate that term) who all fucked me in private, and in secret. They would call me over and over again to fuck. And hell I really don’t see the problem with that except that shame feeling I got when they never wanted to be seen with me in public. I had a very low self esteem to begin with, especially after the abusive fuckhead who basically mentally tortured me for a year and a half at the impressionable age of 16-17. So I thought it was fine. I thought to myself “well maybe when I’m skinny, maybe when I’ve lost weight I’ll be good enough for these boys that I love.” Well clearly that’s bullshit, but that’s what I thought at the time and for years afterwards. By the way if any person abuses my child that way by telling them they will only be good enough for them if they XYZ I will fucking end that person.
So I picked up a lot of very attractive people who were down to fuck. But never down to date, or even tell anyone else we fucked. It was always a secret. I can’t even count how many times I have actually been told not to tell anyone. I mean, now looking back on that, that’s really fucking insulting.
I won’t go into every person I fucked or even what happen but let’s say it’s probably about 50-60 people who specifically told me not to tell anyone we had sex. I didn’t come out of that unscathed. Not even slightly. I came out of that part of my life having fucked almost 100 people who never showed me enough respect to even acknowledge we had sex. I came out of that thinking I was someone to be embarrassed by or about.
I tried so many times to be normal and to be strong. I refused sex from people I wanted it from because I thought it was the right thing to do. I had sex with people who said they loved me because I thought that was the right thing to do. But in the end, I just denied every instinct in my whole body and mind and every single time I ignore my instincts I fuck things up. I fucked abusive shitheads who were super controlling, but said they loved me, and I said no to people I really liked just because I thought I was supposed to. I said no because people offered me money. I said no because other people told me to say no.
When I had a crush on someone and they flirted with me, inevitably a friend would tell me “oh s/he does that to everyone” and I would feel absolutely useless and pointless and hideous.
When I moved to Amsterdam I was still in that mode. Fucking people who I thought I was supposed to and denying those I thought were too good for me. When I was offered money for sex one day, while out shopping, I said I couldn’t do that. I would never do that. He begged and begged and I left. But I realized as I was walking down the street, in a city where I knew absolutely no one, that I could do whatever I wanted and not only would no one know, but I’d be making fucking money! So I ran into him the next day and I said yes. He wanted to be seen with me. He didn’t take me out on a date or anything, but we did walk in public together for all to see. That was liberating. He paid me a lot. I started hanging out with the hookers in De Wallen, eventually moved to London, and here I am today! OK, there is so much more to that story but I just needed to get that little bit out before I go to the hospital for a night of fun tests!
By the way the picture I’m sharing with this is not my picture, but I wanted to share it because it makes me feel at home. I lived right next to Oude Kerk, and every time I’d step outside my building these lights would warm my sight.