You know what, I think I regret my previous post. I still get defensive about prostitution and my ex-pimp. Apologies. My instinct is always to defend, but rationally I know it's not right. What happened to me wasn't right.
I remember being a bit 'wonky' and not all there after the effects of a ketamine binge were wearing off, and getting a call from my dealer asking me to come down and see him. I get in the car. There's two men in there I don't know. He starts driving and I'm still a bit wacked-out, I have absolutely no idea where we are going.
When we arrive, I'm taken into a house where there is another man I don't know. I'm offered cocaine and alcohol which I accept because I'm fucking anxious and drug-dependent. In the end, I was left with 3 men that I had never met in my life, while my dealer went home and left me there.
I had sex with all 3 of them. What did I get out of it? A quarter ounce of more ketamine and a chivalrous
lift back to my hostel (that I lived in after being released from a psychiatric hospital).
I was 17 and these were all grown men.
This went in for a few months (I was one of the lucky ones and I know it). When I told my support worker, she moved me out of the area for my own safety. And what was my response to her? Calling her every name under the sun and crying my eyes out because I wanted to stay.
Why? Why would I want to stay in that situation? Because I'd known my dealer/pimp since I was just 14 years old and had fancied him ever since. We had a sexual relationship and I wanted to impress him, I wanted to make him happy and do what he wanted me to do. I wanted to be close to him, and the more entangled in the drugs and the sex I got, the closer I felt (the more times we had to talk/meet-up/be together).
Fucking pathetic.
And you know what? If I saw in the paper that this man had been arrested, I would be upset by it. Even sadder.