I am writing this because I believe I have made this blog, and all it entails my work.

I want to speak my regular readers, and say please if you can send me funds if you used quote my words or hire me as a speaker.

I am losing money as I write this blog, and often have several days in a state of anxiety.

I want to write deeper in this blog, I want to have the fire of an abolitionist – all that is very hard when my day-to-day existence is so stressful.

I believe I provide an unique voice for the abolitionist movement, and I know my work is used by feminists – especially radical feminists, by academics, in books and articles.

I ask if you used my words, please with respect send me some funds for the use.

Also, I enjoy speaking and feel it is vital for the abolitionist movement – but I cannot do it for free, for I do it as a professional, not as a token exited woman.

Please consider this, and send it through Paypal, just write to ask for my email contact.

All I write and speak to is just the tip of an enormous ice-berg of trauma, memory, pain and grief.

I want this blog to explore and express as much as words can about my time and views of being prostituted – but words can only say the surface, or what my reader/audience choose to understand.

So I have put my fave Aretha Franklin’s album – “I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You” – and will try to go into my deep spaces.

To speak top being prostituted is to enter the heart of hell, but constantly being told it not as bad as you say.

But I know and remember the cold dead eyes of punters and sex trade profiteers – I know with every cell of my body that all violence done to the prostituted is pre-planned and done with a sense of entitlement.

There is and has never been accidental violence done to the prostituted – and the vast majority of this violence is done by men who are very ordinary, often non-violent outside of prostitution, and will be outwardly classed as good men.

But put a punter in a room, give a punter the entitlement to pick the street prostituted, let rich punters own escorts/girlfriend experience, say saunas are for sex, open up strip clubs on the high street – and you are saying violence to the prostituted is our norm as long we cannot see it’s reality.

Punters are raping, torturing, killing and mentally abusing the prostituted every day in almost every country – and most societies make the choice to ignore this genocide.

For centuries, this hell has been made invisible or an non-event – now, slowly and with huge courage the multiple voices of the prostituted are getting heard.

I proud to be in a new book – “Prostitution Narrative: Stories of Survival in the Sex Trade” edited by Caroline Norma & Melinda Tankard Reist, published by Spinifex.

This is a collection of writings of exited women mainly from Australia, Canada, Denmark, Ireland, New Zealand, UK and USA – all speaking to the realities of what it is and was to be prostituted.

Our voices cut through the lies and myths of the sex work lobby – our voices are just a small part of centuries of the prostituted screaming for justice, wanting to explain our hellish conditions and fighting for justice.

I believe I am lucky to live in the beginning of the prostituted being allow to speak our realities in our own language – not the constant translation of those who support the status quo of the sex trade.

Our language is your language – just more raw, more able to face grief, more able to contain agony.

Our language is your language – only we allow emotion space to breathe, only we speak always with ghosts of those who never exit the sex trade.

Our language is your language – but too often you act as if we speak gibberish, or translate our words to hide pain, grief and desire for justice.

I want to live in world where the prostituted can speak out without being watered down.

To that day – I will speak out with the memory of hell, and wait for the non-prostituted to hear clearly the screaming of the prostituted world-wide.

I am very proud of this blog, and all the work associated with it – but I also feel very isolated, and often abandoned.

I know it a long and exhausting road to my dream of full abolition of the sex trade, and it may not occur in my lifetime.

I know that exiting from the sex trade is lonely and deeply isolating experience – and living in extreme complex trauma is a battle only a survivor can fully know.

But, but, but –

I also know there are many exited women who are isolated, and like me fighting with determination and deep warrior strength to bring about real change for all the prostituted.

We need each other in many and often complex ways.

We have so much to offer the abolitionist movement if we had the mental energy to give it.

But with isolation comes deep frustration, a constant self-doubt often entering the danger-zone of self-hate.

I know exited women have an inner strength that others can only see the surface level of – we are experts at hiding our vulnerability, our fears, our nightmares, our body memories – we hide our deep wounds, and put on the face of constant campaigner.

But we are tired, we are only speaking words that you can understand, we are not speaking in the screaming heart of our realities.

How do you speak the authentic language of our prostituted souls – when we are kept isolated, without long-term solid support.

I want and need more time with exited women.

I need the space to rant about the everyday ignorance, insulting language, and general keeping the prostituted class as sub-humans.

I need the space for the graveyard humour that only exited women can hear and relate to.

I need space for our deep grief that we know the insides of all forms of tortures, that we have been raped so often that no language is left to enclose it, that we live inside a trauma that map out our daily lives.

I want to go out and drink with exited women – I want our spirit that celebrate every moment we have the luck to be alive, to build a life no punter or sex trade profiteers can destroy.

I want some kind of holding, some form of sisterhood of our broken pasts and hoped for futures.

I want and need that love and non-judgement only my exited sisters can give.

I want to know my work reaches my exited sisters – and they want me inside their lives.

Am I expecting too much?

I have put this on coz this woman is so amazing.