I soon returned to work.
I knew I had changed. Somewhere.
The perspective with which I viewed the world has changed. The exterior was still me. I still looked like me. Yes my heart didn’t hurt as much anymore. The pain would eventually fade out. But every morning before I went to work, I looked in the mirror and the eyes would always betray a tinge of the mournful sorrow I felt within.
In a way, due to the kind of “work” I am doing now, I see the same reflected within my eyes. If I smiled, I still looked like me. If I laughed, it is still me. But if someone scratched this veneer and prodded deeper, and if I just released the control I was exercising, the crushing pain would flow out and along with it, some tears. In retrospection, being hurt by someone and thereafter, suffering the pain in the heart is different from choosing the current “work” and hurting yourself in the process. The latter is more crushing.
In a bid to forget Wayne and all that has happened, I would pour myself into work. Social activities were often bypassed as I didn’t want to meet anyone except those close friends of mine.
On occasions when I went out with colleagues for drinks after work, they would, with the best of intentions, try to introduce guys to me. Being single and more than presentable, they couldn’t understand why I wasn’t attached. These men would always mistake my quietness for coyness, and think I was playing hard to get. These men came in many forms, sizes and shapes. The professionals, the executives, the bankers the pilots..seen them all. And they would always invariably share what they do for a living, to knock up some small talk, thinking that their success at work was the epitome of what a woman looked at. And with that, perhaps a way into her heart and subsequently to the bed. Perhaps..maybe..just maybe..had the breakup with Wayne been more straightforward and less eventful, I would think yea these gentlemen were ideal partners. Sometimes, being shallow is simpler. Makes life easier. Decide on the route or the man for your life by ensuring he fulfills a pre-defined set of requisites.
But the truth was, I just wasn’t interested in them, in letting my heart be stamped upon and crushed again.
*TBC
Soon in a matter of weeks, I will be leaving the paid sex industry. Had this opportunity presented itself in the week of my debut, I would have been wildly ecstatic, over the moon.
Not that I am any less grateful or happy for the opportunity to finally cease being an FL, but my response to the opportunity was strangely muted.
I have changed.
It struck me that “Nowhere”, is the loneliest word in the English language, and at this time, the most appropriate to describe me. You see? There are only 2 main types of women; nice girls and whores. And I am nowhere.
Day I entered this industry, I would no longer be grouped under the generic tag of “nice girls”. Instead, I would become a member of the sisterhood of whores.
A sisterhood that is as politically driven as in any corporate cut throat world,
A sisterhood where using condoms in blowjobs are frowned upon and being able to boast of a wider repertoire of services such as AR, AJ, COF, CIM, COB etc are celebrated.
A sisterhood where competition is rife and backstabbing common, despite the fact that members in this sisterhood are all female and probably less privileged or undergoing real life issues hence the foray into the industry. One would think that 女人更会帮女人 but nope.
With the last day fast approaching, I would be leaving this sisterhood. And I am nowhere. Because I would never be able to return to the former tag of nice girls.
Thence why nowhere is the loneliest word.
To those nursing or contemplating a foray into this sisterhood, be forewarned that the ability to stay true to oneself and emerge unscathed, unscarred, is a myth. Even with resolve of steel and laser sharp focus on the eventual goal, you will lose sight of yourself. The vision of the former you weakens everyday and the hope that you will exit this line, with at least some semblance of the old you before entering the industry, remains but a mere hope.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
dealmaker
Your story brought a different perspective of a life of FL. Some might be in this for material gains while others like yourself is in this for a different reason.
I believed the sticky notes came from Sam boss’s signature.
The sticky notes in general are good advice. Baring the fact that the advice presented in those notes did hit my FL heart with a swift painful blow, fact remains that whores are for f**king and not loving. Standard sound advice even I would say to a brother or a close friend who is on the verge of falling for any kinds of whores.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
sjb1994
Really feel speechless after reading this tread. On one side, we cheongster will hope for more fish in the pool, but on the soft side, reading this make me feel sad.
Anyway, life still go on. Everyone has their own story, we can’t mind all, so just mind our own business and move on.
Wish you GOOD LUCK, TS!
There is no need to be speechless. Life is a paradox at times.
If we look at the bigger picture on the whole, I reckon it is all about simple basic economics. Supply versus demand.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Princessica
Sis,
We are in the same line and I’m glad u made it and leaving this industry. In this line, u are the only person u can trust. U are the only person who help urself. Others will only help u to an extend and that’s it. I hv been in this field more than u and seen more than u. Its a dog eats dog world. This field, to be honest, is more political than office industry. Because it all comes directly and slam onto ur face. If u ain’t strong, u tend to get defeat very easily.
Pls dun look down on urself. How to define a nice gal? We are here to work, it a service line. Not here to be someone’s wife. It a double life. As long end of the day, u are still what u are, who cares. We dun steal or kill, our consciences are cleared. We will hv a stain no matter wat. Who is perfect in this world? The ans is, no one, not even the purest virgin.
Princessica, you cum up perfectly what life is like as an FL. Both you and I, prior to stepping into this line, would have thoroughly weighed every options available or tried looking for alternatives. And yes, indeed we did not steal or kill, nor cheat or hurt, to earn the money that is needed. I applaud you for the strength you have, for I am definitely weaker than you in this aspect.
You said, at the end of the day, We are still who we are. But the truth is we would have changed.
Regardless of how short or how Long our stint as a FL is, something in us would have changed.
A good metaphor or analogy or example is a soldier going to his first war. Versus a war veteran who has gone to battle 10times. The new soldier sees the first dead casualty of war, a dead body with his brains half blown out and body riddled with bullets. He probably will be shocked, stunned, the image stays with him. For a while.
The war veteran sees the same but is no longer fazed by these dead bodies. He simply walks past these dead bodies. It is like seeing a dead cockroach in the drain. No emotions, nothing.
At the end of the day, this line hat we are in would have changed us, regardless of how minor or how major the change is.
And that change renders it impossible for us to return to whichever tags we were formerly associated with (nice and sweet girls, homely girls, fun loving girl who likes clubbing, etc etc)
At least for me. And I know it because I wonder if the gentleman carrying his young toddler or the one holding his wife’s hands, whom I pass by on the streets, if they visit massage parlours, FLs, WLs or whatever.. It’s a passing thought. But it tells me that my perspective has changed and that I no longer view the world, men, and love with a rose tinted glass.