My sex life isn’t as exciting and wonderful and sparkle-filled as my customers might imagine. It’s complex, and it’s messy, and I think if most of them knew, I couldn’t be coveted as a sexual object.
Here’s what’s difficult about working, literally, as a sex object. An object of desire. A paid flirt. A compensated tease: It’s that it then becomes very difficult to understand how to have an honest sexual relationship with another person.
I’m really struggling with this lately.
There is someone that I have the desire to have a sexual relationship with, and yet, can barely bring myself to allow him to touch me.
It’s weird. I allow fifty or one hundred men per night to touch me, to caress me, to put their hands all over me, and it’s never more than work. I don’t feel sensitive about it. In fact, it’s almost as if it’s mundane, routine, generic. It’s a pre-packaged box of Hot Pockets individually packaged to the recipient’s taste, for all I care.
And yet, something about letting someone I love touch me is…hyper-personal, overly sensational, difficult. It brings me to tears, and I’m not sure why. My skin feels…feels like there are a million nerves in every square inch that is touched, or kissed. In an emotionally and physically difficult way. I just cry, and I don’t mean to, but it feels so right to cry.
I don’t understand it. The interaction with guys that just stop in is very superficial and fantasy-filled. The ongoing relationship with regulars is no more than that of good customers to any business—friendly, ordered, and understood to be somewhat minimalistic and based on money/service.
I think I’m becoming very disconnected from the idea of actually having sex, with someone that loves me, for the sole purpose of making love, and actually having to be mentally/emotionally present. I think that bringing myself back down to Earth to be a sexual person (not just a sexual, yet mostly untouchable, object) is getting to me. I think, when it comes down to it, I’ve never learned to be mentally present during sex.
I think that makes dancing easier and making love impossible sometimes.
I never said being a stripper was all roses and honeydew melons.