I have been told I am fantasist by sex work promoters.

Hell, I wish I knew nothing about the inside of indoors prostitution. I wish I went on my merry way never thinking about the conditions that the prostituted live.

It would never be my fantasy to be prostituted.

Of course, I had many fantasies.

I wanted to be Lauren Bacall, I wanted to be a highwaywoman, I wanted to live in St Lucia, I wanted to be an famous author.

I had many fantasies.

I wanted to live without any violence, I wanted to loved in a honest way, I wanted life to slow down enough to be secure, I wanted to remember what it was to be human.

But it was never part of my imagination to be prostituted.

All I knew was the cartoon images that we are told is real prostitution.

The image of drugged-out, homeless and living without love street prostitute.

The Happy Hooker with her heart of gold, who enjoys sex and making punters happy.

The escort who is rich, who controls the punters and would never allow them to be violent.

The trafficked prostituted woman who has no rights – is raped beyond rape, is battered, and vanishes when she is too old, that is over 23.

All these images had nothing to do with who I thought I was.

I knew of prostitution, but it meant very little to me till I lost my will to live.

Then I hang out in King’s Cross and Soho – I was so young and could only know what a child perceives.

I was round 9 to 11 when I enter Soho and King’s Cross, I went looking for a place where I could hate myself, and I found it.

I found a place of emptiness, dead eyes, humans in desperation being brought and sold.

I found my Ice Kingdom that many lost children are attracted to.

I found I could fit as I learnt to murder emotions, grow a heart of ice, and to believe I was worth nothing.

I was growing towards prostitution, so I keep believing I was in some kind of control.

It was the control of wanting suicide but not knowing how to die.

It was the control of having some place where I could stop feeling.

It was the control that now is called choice – the choice of a zombie.

So, to survive I decided that I choose to enter prostitution when I was 14.

Tell me, what is meant by choice?

Tell me how I at 14 could of chosen knowing all the information?

Could I know that no matter what type of prostitution I did, violence would be a shadow that would never leave.

Could I know that punters always hold the power over my body and mind, and can rape/torture/murder me as a whim.

Could I know how hard it was to exit prostitution.

Could I know that I would have extreme PTSD as a legacy of many years of prostitution.

Well, I thought I was clued up but I knew nothing.

What became my reality was never part of any fantasy that I had.

It was hell – plain and simple.

I speak to that truth – not some fantasy.

I started this blog wanting to express what it is to be prostituted.

Now, I want to speak to the centre of prostitution – the male demand and those who profiteer from that demand.

The more I write, the more I speak out, the more I listen to my exited friends – the more I know the focus must be placed onto the demand and supply, and away from the individual prostituted woman (man or child).

To face up to that demand and supply, we must explode many myths.

We must know that prostitution is not inevitable – it is not the oldest profession, it has not always been with, and there can be a world without prostitution.

We must think men are better than wanting to be punters and profiteers of the sex trade.

That men can and will learn to see women as equals – not as sex objects, not as sub-human sex goods.

That men can and will learn not to associate violence with sex, that is not to be sadists.

That we can and will make a world where men who make the choice to be punters or profiteers are made into pariahs – and punish in a serious manner.

Damn it, we must want men to raise above demanding and supplying prostitution – that is least we should expect of them.

I am sick of the millions of excuses that men and some of their female supporters make for the continence of prostitution.

All excuses are from a place of a frozen heart, and the desire to keep the prostituted as sub-human.

I could on forever with the words of these excuses, so I will select a few, please feel free to add on if you understand those callous words.

The biggest excuse, the one that it always shock me that anyone can believe – Without the constant supply of the prostituted, punters would seriously violent to real women and children.

Jesus – where to start with that crap.

This assumes the prostituted are too sub-human to be raped, to be tortured, to feel pain and to know terror – only so-called real women and children, that is women and children who are made good by male standards – can know such human feelings.

Another excuse is that prostitution can be made safer by say co-ops, by decimalising all aspects of prostitution, by allowing the prostituted to form unions.

More bullshit, but this is shite is made to make the Leftist punters feel justify as the consume free-range prostituted folks.

Prostitution can never be made safe – it does not matter where it is place, it is does not matter how it is organise, it does not matter what label you put on the prostituted.

Prostitution can never be safe when all punters know that fully own and control the prostituted – and in that ownership, punters have full entitled to be as sadist as he can desires and can imagine from his porn dreams.

Punters can and will be violent however society chooses to organise prostitution – so if we really want to end violence to the prostituted , we must punish and re-educate men who choose to punters to stop consuming the prostituted.

That is why I fight for the Nordic Approach as a mighty step toward abolition and liberation for all the prostituted.

A myth that punters love – is that he is controlled and manipulated by the prostitute. This is place by the myth that the prostituted are sex-crazed.

These myths keep the prostituted as sub-human, who have no past and no future – only a present of fucking punter after punter after punter.

Only inside these myths, is an ugly myth – that each punters imagine he somehow special and unique to his prostitute, and then hate the prostitute for allowing so many other punters into her, whilst at the same time enjoying her trashiness that he can throw away as he returns to real women.

To be prostituted is to live inside that sick mind-set – it is to placed as some goddess of sex, then raped, tortured and mentally abused till you know you just dirt.

Our bodies and minds become experimental rats for all forms of mental, sexual and physical torture, in order to make the prostituted know they can never be human.

Punters need to see us as sub-human, they need to rid themselves of having a conscious or empathy – so they invent that prostituted want the violence, that they manipulate punters into violence.

Punters need to believe that the prostituted are bad – so they can pretend it is not real rape, real battering, real degradation or real murder – just sorting out the trash.

Those are a sample of the excuses made for the status quo of prostitution.

Well, if you want to keep the prostituted as sub-human, as goods who cannot know basic human rights – then follow the words of punters and sex trade profiteers.

I want more – I want a world that cannot imagine a prostituted class.

I want to rise all the prostituted to the simple right of knowing they are fully human.

I have been writing this blog for eight years now – and still I am frustrated, still I see the prostituted are made into sub-human.

There have been some positive changes, but from the viewpoint of an exited woman, there has been too much support for the sex trade and its promoters.

I would cry bitter tears, but there is too much to do than wasting my tears.

I can cry when all the prostituted have freedom, are treated as full human beings and truly heard.

Till then, my fight will be relentless.

A major positive in these eight years, and the positive that means the most to me – is the growing multiple voices of exited women is all over social media.

When I started this blog, in England I was an isolated voice, with little or no support.

There were many exited women campaigning internationally, but we were rarely connected.

Thanks to groups like SPACE and STSU (Sex Trade Survivors United), exited are organising on an international level.

This gives us many powerful political voices, we speak out a deeply painful personal and connect our lives together making a loud abolitionist voice.

In these eight years, exited women have invented and rediscover ways to support each other – we are not afraid to face dark terrifying emotions and truths, for we are never alone again.

We can keep some of our pain and truths with our exited Sisters, giving us the strength and courage to fight for abolition.

We can find the language that fits our realities and our fragmented memories.

We can laugh at what others cannot hear or even see, our laughter is our route back into life and is our power-source.

And we can learn how to speak of torture knowing it under all our skins, speak to rape on an industrial scale seeing it our bodies we speak of, and speak for the disappeared and dead for they shadow us as we forge a better future.

All that has happened in less than eight years – but it built on the multiple voices of the prostituted in all cultures and over 4000 years.

Before all history of what it is and was to be prostituted was recorded by those who consume or profiteer from the sex trade.

Now, we are slowly beginning to re-write our history and testimonies to speak to being inside the sex trade and to be made sub-human.

I started this blog hoping my small voice would make some re-think or even act to make real change for the prostituted.

I am shocked and deeply honoured by the fact I read world-wide.

In these eight years, my readership comes from 177 countries – 49 from Europe, 49 from Arica and Middle East, 37 from Asia, 33 from the Americas, and 9 from Australia/NZ/Pacific Islands.

That is amazing, and I feel very proud.

I hope my words helps abolitionists everywhere, and reaches some prostituted women who feel trapped or abandoned, and gives strength to exited women.

But back to my frustration which is the backbone of my politics.

I am deeply frustrated and can feel quite broken by how loud the sex work movement is, and how in the eight years they keep saying the same things over and over.

Their words are made in gospel by the liberal media and academia.

It is easy to believe their propaganda – for it does not confront the male violence and dehumanising of the prostituted.

Rather it paints an image of Pretty Woman as all the prostituted – a woman who cannot be hurt, seems to be empowered, is able to go in and out of prostitution – a woman that does not exist.

She is rebranded as a sex worker – when before she was a temple whore, a geisha, a courtesan, an escort.

In this world of fiction, sex workers are usually Western middle-class white women who choose prostitution as a career or a hobby.

In this world of fiction, sex workers are empowered and can turn away violent punters, whilst being high earners.

This world of fiction is sick when put alongside the reality that exited women speak to.

We know there is no aspect of prostitution that can be made safe – for any punter can be violent whatever label is put on the prostitute he is consuming.

We know the more money a punter the more entitled he will feel.

This entitlement means he will think he owns the prostitute body, mind and soul. He is very likely to be a sadist, and to expect to have the prostitute over a long period.

So, to earn big in the world of prostitution is to be living inside torture and know at any moment you could murdered.

I an exhausted – so end for now.

I do not use this blog to write to what is on the news, but the events in Germany have made so angry and sick.

As I wrote in my last post, this is because of the sheer hypocrisy of the majority of reactions, plus it being used as excuse for racism and ignorance.

It all about making the elephant in the room invisible, or maybe the two elephants standing in that room.

That men in mass crowds of all cultures, all backgrounds and in all times of history has been sexually violent to females.

That Germany has made itself the brothel of Europe – that is it ok to rape, mentally abuse, torture and even murder women and girls as long you pay for it.

It is only wrong if done non-prostituted women and can be framed as not part of German culture.

I have try to stay silent, as bile raises into my throat.

But as I hear German politicians state that violence against is so awful – I want to scream –

Which women are talking about?

Are you talking about prostituted in the mega brothels which are on the increase in Germany?

Are you talking about women inside porn filmed in Germany where torture is the norm?

Are you talking about street-based prostituted women who live with the knowledge that rape is their norm, and they could disappear at any time?

Are you talking about escorts who know sexual torture, threats of death and mental violence inside out?

No – you talking only of the non-prostituted women who must be protected from these nasty foreign men – coz we must not notice that German men could of been part of the crowds sexually abusing women.

Personally, I think you have narrow down the women worthy of your support as white European, who must have German citizenship.

For that will gain you tons of vote – to keep open the sex trade, whilst saying most sexual violence done to German women is done by foreigners and men of a strange culture.

I hate yourself self-serving bullshit – for I sure you know it far more complicated, but don’t care if ignorance helps you stay in power.

I also at the disconnect of many feminists, especially liberal feminists.

I understand that most liberal feminists are pro-sex work, so will refuse to connect the legalisation of prostitution with increased sexual violence to all women.

This disconnect sickened me to the core of my being.

To justify prostitution as sex work – you must ignore all tortures, all mental violence, all the murders of the prostituted.

This is what is being done as I look at too so-called feminist discussions of events in Germany.

There is no questioning of the disappearances of prostituted women in Germany, no questioning the high rate of murdered prostituted women since prostitution was legalised.

There is no interest in everyday tortures that is the norm in German brothels, no interests in how sub-human mega brothels are.

But, if porn-fuelled sexual is place onto non-prostituted women – then it is horrific and becomes an feminist issue.

Sorry, if I cry with laughter at your hypocrisy.

Sexual violence will be the norm as long the sex trade is legal and part of German culture.

Of course, majority of that violence will remain hidden and considered a non-crime, for it will done inside the sex trade.

When we choose to legalised prostitution, we are stating that the prostituted class are sub-human.

Stating that it is impossible to rape a prostitute.

Stating that the prostitute does not have human emotions such as terror, grief or confusion.

Stating that you cannot hurt a prostitute, for it has been decided she feel no pain.

And stating that killing a prostitute is a non-event, just getting rid of the trash.

In that environment, why would any men living in or visiting Germany, thinks that women have rights to safety and dignity.

What the men in the crowd have to learn is to pay for their sexual violence first, then no-one will care.

Post-Christmas is a tough time for me, so I have been unable or unwilling to write on my blog.

I live with trauma as a shadow, but in the last few weeks, a deep sadness has almost paralysed me.

I know working is some cure, but I also this blog scares my soul.

So I choose to have a hiatus.

In that space, I let myself touch places I have little expression for.

I find Winter a time of stillness, time of deep memories and a time where I can be safe enough to be vulnerable.

To truly recover or at the least being able to live after prostitution – Wintertime is needed.

It is my oasis for my wounded warrior soul.

Now, I will go back to writing, to attempting to speak to the unspeakable, to write what I am scare to even know.

I will start by explaining why I do not use trigger warnings for my work, but I will write as frankly and clearly as I can.

I will not use trigger warning because I believe the truth of what it is and was to live inside oppression must never be censor or made safe for the reader.

This is doubly true when the writer is a survivor of oppression – then the words must be written without interference, without an environment of feeling our words must be tidy up in order not cause offense or hurt the feelings of our readers.

I believe the reader of this blog must be adult enough to control their own emotions or sense of what they think is right.

If my words hurt, offend or make you uncomfortable – you can always make the choice to not read it.

But you do have the right to say I must place trigger warnings on my truths and opinions. That is very controlling.

In this post, I have decided to go in many directions. It may be rather confusing – but rest assured, it all connected to surviving prostitution and all that entails.

One thing I need to write about is Germany and the sexual violence over New Year.

I have some on Facebook about this, but here I wish to explore deeper the connections of this sexual violence and legalised prostitution, and speak to hypocrisy that holds.

Germany has made the choice to become the Brothel of Europe, making prostitution a tourist attraction and huge cash-cow for the economy.

In this environment, extreme sexual violence to the prostituted is the norm.

Torture is commonplace, the prostituted disappear on a regular basis, and the murder rate of the prostituted is outrageously high.

All this male violence is made acceptable, for it done to the prostituted class – so is done to throwaway women.

So, I was very surprised at the shock and horror that men in Germany used New Year celebrations as excuse to sexually abused women.

But then, it was perceived to be done to non-prostituted women – so then it could class as a crime, as real violence and a threat to German society.

But still nothing is being done to end the torturing and murdering of the prostituted – no, the sex trade business in Germany is running same as before.

For the prostituted women are not worthy of being class as good German women – they are foreign, they must be sex-crazed, they are greedy, they are too broken to bother with.

No, for Germany to still rich and imaging it is a moral country – it must have a constant supply of the prostituted – even I only so we can know what a good woman is in contrast.

I do write this post to make sense, but to allow my mind catch up with grief and anger. That is why it a stream of consciousness.

I cannot write to what prostitution was to me in January – only that some of my worse and most soul-destroying events happened at this time of year.

I touch suicide often in January. I tried and fail to die for many Januaries.

Now, as memory kicks in I feel the pills, the cuttings and dreams of death by my side.

Death made more sense than life when I was prostituted.

But then how do you make sense of being inside prostitution?

January was a time when punters enjoy being sadists, when rich punters wanted to destroy the body and mind of the prostituted.

My nightmare scenario was being brought by a punter rich enough to keep me for days or weeks.

Then I had no free will, no access to safety, no right to dignity and no memory of self-respect.

Instead, I became a robot, only waiting for commands to know how to pretend to be alive.

In that environment, any form of torture was done to my body and mind.

I had no human rights – for once I had been brought I was no longer allow to be human.

I will write to a few of the tortures that circle my mind as memories. None are remembered clearly, all viewed through a fog of wanting to not know what is true.

To be the perfect whore, I taught myself to block out as much as possible, and to shut as much pain as possible.

But some get through.

It gets through being forced head-first into water and anally raped.

It gets through being beaten and raped for falling asleep from exhaustion.

It gets through being suffocated with a pillow as rape continues on and on.

It gets through being forced to read Lolita and de Sade.

It gets through hearing the pain and fear of other prostituted women, as I wait for my turn.

It gets through wanting to not know that prostituted women just disappear from my life – not allowing thoughts of murder or torture in, but pretending they have somehow exited.

That is a tiny part of my memories – so much more I could scream out to you.

I will end here, coz this just a hello again – a getting back onto the horse.