How To Lose Your Inheritance And Alienate Your Family In Three Easy Steps
As I mentioned in my last post, during my trip to China, my parents became extremely aware of my income source of the past several months. I omitted almost all the details but I’m giving them to you now. This is the most foolproof way to lose everything in a matter of minutes, assuming your family is similar to mine (mostly WASPS with a few Eastern European Catholics thrown in).
Step 1: Make your living through a morally repugnant field.
This step is the most easily modified. You don’t have to make a living off of it. The money could be for a higher standard of living, college tuition, booze, strippers, or the massive amounts of Taco Bell you insist on picking up on your way home, only to sit in front of your computer for hours and jack off to images on the Internet. Whatever. Secondly, the field doesn’t have to be morally repugnant, it can simply be illegal or below your perceived social status. However, violating morals and values is a surefire way to alienate the hyper-religious folk (NOTE: I’m not denigrating religion. Laugh all you want, but I believe in God. I’m condemning organized religion. Difference).
I am more than qualified to comment on this. I’ll assume that if you’ve read this far, you know what I did for my money. I worked hard for it. In a field that’s sometimes considered the lowest of the low, especially by the religious right wing, feminists (but not liberal feminists), and my parents, I rose through the hooker hierarchy pretty quickly. I was making bank. I bought a car. I bought clothes. I paid off debts. I paid for everything. But who cares about fiscal security and responsibility if what you’re doing to achieve it isn’t all pretty and clean from the outside? Exactly. So go on, get out there and reeeally concentrate on offending people’s morals.
Step 2: Hide said living through an ever-growing web of excuses, cover-ups, and lies.
Keep plans vague. Always have an alibi. Have every electronic communication device in your control on passcode/password lockdown. Don’t make it obvious shit, either. For example, if you have an iPhone, don’t make your birthdate or the last four digits of your SSN your passcode. Make it the numerical equivalent of “cunt” or some other four-letter word. This is simple stuff, stuff we all learned back in grade school when we were sneaking out to drink Smirnoff Ice in some kid’s basement. But I’m warning y’all, it is so easy to slip up. You can get comfortable in your web and forget that you have something major to hide. And that’s when it all begins to crumble.
This step was my failure point. While I hid the hooking well, I made a huge booboo in the end. I [supposedly] left my home laptop running and logged into my email when I left for China. My theory is that my dad installed a key-logger on my laptop when I wasn’t looking, as my most recent virus scan pinged a bit of key-logging spyware. Regardless, as I said earlier, my dad hopped on here and found a whole slew of parental nightmares. Not only did he and my mother find my emailed reports from SubtleDig identifying me as the occasional writer for BH, they went ahead and checked out the blog itself. And then they took it a step further and read all of the logged chat conversations between myself and The Boy, including the more recent ones covering my covert vacation with him and my theorized foray into porn. Did I mention they found it on Mother’s Day, hours after I boarded a plane for Beijing? Coming home was less than pleasant.
3. When confronted, adamantly defend your decisions and assert your status as a free adult.
The third step is the most important if you want your entire family ripped away from you. Whatever behavior you’ve engaged in will appear even worse when you defend yourself. There will be yelling and tears and threats. Top it all off by reminding your family that you are an adult, at least from a legal standpoint. This will really seal the deal, and all you have to do to get kicked out and be written out of everyone’s will is count to ten. And there you have it.
Here’s where the story ends for me. A full twenty-four hours after I had arrived back on U.S. soil, my parents dropped the bomb. They knew everything, or at least thought they did. They knew enough. I explained why I chose escorting. I’m twenty-one. I haven’t finished college yet. Tuition just went up another thousand dollars a semester, and my college fund will run out long before I graduate. Bills need to be paid. When my last car broke down in four different ways at once, my only saving grace was the money I had stockpiled for a new car.
Above all else, I didn’t and still don’t want to feel indebted to my parents. I cannot stand asking them for gas money, beer money, spending money, any kind of money. Despite telling me they’ll gladly help me out and then some, their actions always prove otherwise. My mother whines like a five-year-old when I tell her my boobs or my butt have surpassed my current wardrobe and I need new clothes. She huffs and puffs when my tuition needs to be paid, even though for the time being, the money for that has already been set aside. Not even by her, but by my grandfather. My dad gets cranky when I point out that my tires are bald or the house is nearly out of groceries. Every cent they give me feels as though there are enough strings attached to negate the money’s value.
In any event, I was given a choice. I could abandon my [admittedly stressful] way of life and stay at home, with mom and dad supposedly paying for everything, or I could do what I wanted to do and get the fuck out. Not just out of the house, but out of my family. Forever. My parents and grandparents were poised to write me out of their wills. My mother planned to cut off all contact between my sister and me. She even went so far as to say they would arrange a time when they were home to allow me to collect my things. It would be an eviction from my entire life.
I chose my family. I am still hurt and angry, but I’m able to face my parents now without wanting to scream most of the time. No one else in my family has mentioned the situation, and I’m grateful to them. As for the future of the blog, I don’t know where it will go. I’ll continue writing here and there until they get rid of me. I assume it’s difficult to find escorts willing and able to write about their exploits. Perhaps I’m wrong.
I’m almost certain one or both of my parents now monitor this blog, so I’ll go ahead and ask what’s been on my mind for days: Was it worth it? Was all the pain and anger and confusion worth satisfying your curiosity about my life outside the family?
Are you happier knowing?
I’m a big fan of your blog. I think many escorts paint a very glamourous picture of their profession but you really bring it down to earth and drill into it. Sorry to hear about your family troubles. Does this mean you’re retiring?
That sounds about right. Maybe I’m totally off-base as I don’t really know you, but I get the feeling you’re relieved.
Reading through your blog it’s fairly clear you weren’t comfortable with your choices anyway. It’s all well and good and empowering to declare that sex work is less degrading than working 12 hour shifts at banana republic getting shit on for $8/hour until you actually do it. Whether it’s your upbringing or how society demonizes the position, you still end up with a stress ulcer working 2 hours a day.
I hope everything works out for you, and that you keep writing– maybe a different topic, maybe not to pour out how shit your life is to anonymous internet people, but about something you actually enjoy and are passionate about. (Hopefully not your cats.) I’ve enjoyed your blog, and not due to prurient interest, although that is how I found it. Good luck.
I’m sorry – I just have a problem with hookering, and I can’t tell what it is. Probably has more to do with the clients, than providers like yourself. I’m extremely liberal and open-minded, but nonetheless.
I went to Thailand once to see Asia — and not for hookers, if you can believe that. However, it’s so in-your-face — and I’ve seen some of the hottest women I have ever witnessed, anywhere, there, willing to fuck you all night for $40 USD. It made me confront why I wouldn’t partake myself (the dick is a strong contender with the brain) – but I just couldn’t do it.
The reason is — the relationship is dishonest. Yeah, you and the client both know the deal – you bring the sex, he brings the money. But really, the client is lying to himself. Is it really all about the physical pleasure? For that, he could masturbate or buy a fleshlight. Hell, he could screw a fat chick from the bar.
From what I’ve seen – it’s usually more than that. The client does want a connection, a ‘girlfriend’-like interaction— to experience some feminine energy and validation. He wants to feel liked, like he is pleasing to others. He wants to feel sexy and masculine. Nowhere is this more evident than the cases of seen in Thailand where girls will actually BE (read: pretend to be) guy’s girlfriends for months at a time, saying “I love you” 10 times a day merely to extract more money. While having covert relationships with six other foreigners at the same time. This need for female validation/ to be liked by a woman is present in all men, especially those seeking hookers. I DON’T think it’s a product of high sex drive. We have porn for that.
I’m not saying you are dishonest or in the same degree of practice. The guys in your case are not as deluded and are more clear about what the interaction will be. But are they really? I feel like DO want female validation and to be liked, and wanted, and sexy, and even sometimes, connect with a woman. This is obvious even in your own stories – though some men will be more covert about it.
In all honesty, you are NOT providing any of these things, really. You don’t like them – you don’t want to connect with them. Hey, who can blame you? I guess it’s just sad seeing these guys using a temporary reprieve to a major problem in their lives (lack of easy enough sex/ connection with females) and self-perpetuating the problem by making no outside effort to fix it.
But I could be full of shit. I still have a negative emotional response to the idea of hookering, though. Eh, maybe it’s some deluded and irrational belief that men need to earn sex with very attractive women by admirable skills or character (even if villainous) – and I dislike “losers” (c’mon, you know there are some as your clients) getting easy access and the system that allows it. hmmm
By the way, the writing here is impressive. And you sound very mature for a 21 year old (though I’m only 22 so I can’t say much). I guess that probably comes with your line of work/ being in lots of relationships.
I don’t think she sounds so mature. She sounds hardened, and a little bit sad, but about right for her age. But then I’m ten years older.
Hooking is not a mature decision when you have other options open. I’m not making a morality judgment, it’s because of societal perception.
I try to be open-minded and believe prostitution should be legal and regulated in the US, but I would never want a hooker, or even an ex-hooker, as my girlfriend. Beyond the ick factor, I guess I’d assume she was damaged in some way, even if there was evidence to the contrary– and this blog is NOT evidence to the contrary.
@ crazy_dude
Yes, I have effectively retired. I’ll continue to write here and there as long as SubtleDig will have me, though.
@ Rod C and peter
Sorry for the disorder in my response.
I can only speak for myself, but I don’t feel that I’m hardened for what I’ve done any moreso than I was before I did it. My views of men haven’t changed any. Regardless of some of the creeps I’ve met, I’m not jaded or man-hating. I have an awesome boyfriend that respects me and cares for me.
As for Rod not wanting a call girl, current or former, as a partner, that’s your decision. But there is little difference between what I did and girls that spend college getting as wasted as possible and hooking up with just as many guys, except that I got paid for it. There’s less ick factor attached to me (since I have never been intoxicated during a call and always insisted upon protection) than your average barfly. It’s just the thought of my former work that makes you itch. Besides which, how would you know if your girlfriend was a call girl, at least in the past tense, unless she told you? I’m not the Hallmark hooker – I didn’t develop any substance use or abuse issues, I’ve never been beaten or ripped off, I’m no more damaged on the inside than every other girl that’s been treated poorly by a partner. No one can look at me, or even converse with me, and have an inkling of what I did.
As for any discomfort I felt during the course of a call, it was balanced by the money I made. I’m not like everyone else. There are other girls that could never handle it, regardless of pay, and there are those that don’t think twice and just concentrate on the money. My stress came from tiptoeing around my family, not from the job itself. Occasionally, I was put off or bothered by the degree of intimacy some clients wanted to achieve, but it was no different than how I feel when a guy approaches me in public and won’t leave even when I’ve made it clear I’m not interested. It came down to me being uninterested in these men. Sometimes it was pitiful to me how much detail they wanted to feed me about their lives, when I had no significance in their everyday lives and they in mine.
Yes, the profession is dishonest, but peter is right – it’s more about the clients. They deceive themselves, and I played along because that is what they wanted from me. A guy does not ask a call girl if she honestly likes him, seeking an honest answer. He wants more fuel to feed his lies to himself. And I gave that, for a price.
I don’t think there is any room to judge the maturity of my decision, as I think that makes a broader judgment on my overall maturity, and you don’t know enough about me or my life to make that call. I have worked the other “options.” I’ve been a sales rep, a restaurant hostess, a waitress, a lifeguard. It comes down to this: I’m still in school. I’m easily distracted. When I worked 50+ hours a week for barely above minimum wage, I was unable to focus on school and my grades from that time period reflect it. I had looked into jobs related to my academic concentrations, and none were able to fit around my class schedule or vice versa. This job allowed me to make well over what I made in any other job I was technically qualified for while putting in a tenth or even a twentieth of the time, and it was easy to fit into my schedule. Other options do not always indicate a better option. Furthermore, the call as to which is the best option is up to the individual making the decision. I would hope that you, as the mature thirty-something you claim to be, would have realized all of this by now.
Above all, I appreciate the compliments and goodwill. Thanks, y’all.
I get that you’re saying you don’t mind providing sex for money, that’s crystal clear. But I read your blog, and it’s all about how the men are at best pitiful, or skeevy, and how uncomfortable you found each encounter. Maybe you skipped over the normal guys that busted a nut, paid, and took a hike because they don’t make compelling blog posts. Fair enough. But then you wrote about that one evil bastard that, lets get right down to it, raped you by fucking your throat against your will until you almost threw up while pretending the whole time you were his daughter. That is some fucked up shit.
I skimmed that messageboard thread on the train home from work and read about how you give blowjobs without condoms and swallow cum. You certainly contracted herpes from this behavior, even if it’s not symptomatic, and open sores can transmit HIV. Now that’s fairly low risk for the woman (and extremely close to zero risk for the man) but this is your life we’re talking about here. Did you really think about that and run a risk assessment before agreeing to do it?
You also post several times about how “escorting” is legal in georgia or alabama or wherever, and since you never explicitly agree to trade sex for money you’re legally in the clear. Astonishingly none of the jokers on that messageboard said a word to the contrary. Nothing could be further from the truth. If a cop wants to arrest you, he will. Cops can do whatever the hell they want. Thinking otherwise is simply naive and exposes your middle-class white upbringing. You think of cops as your friends. They aren’t, if you’re breaking the law (or have brown skin).
You didn’t get arrested because you were lucky, white, american, only worked for 6 months, and most importantly ended up at a legitimate (on the scale of such things) escort agency that admittedly took half your money while sucking a significantly smaller amount of the cock but at least didn’t traffic your pale ass to Abu Dhabi, put you to work in a massage parlor servicing 20 guys a day and sleeping on a bare mattress stinking of kimchi in a hidden closet in the basement, or pimp you out locally. Not because it was legal.
You saw the good side of prostitution, you weren’t particularly pressured or exploited or trafficked, and you still got raped at least once. And you were so hardened by that point, a whole four months in, that you didn’t seem to care. Damaged, yes, I think that’s an accurate description. Not broken, but damaged.
I support legalizing prostitution because it’s an inherently victimless crime and like all services that people really, really want, it’s incredibly difficult to actually stop. If it were legal and regulated, it would be entirely consensual and education would ensure that girls wouldn’t be pressured to give head to strange men without condoms “because it was required to work here”. And hopefully over time society would come to accept sex as a valuable personal service rather than something dirty and furtive. Maybe not. But at least it would be safer, and generate less misery than it does now.
Okay, I just had to post again because something Rod C said resonated with me.
This may sound a bit naive, judgmental, or just plain uninformed. But I really, really, really hate it when a woman allows a man to abuse her in bed when she does not like it; i.e. your experience with the Indian dude. Admittedly I know far worse has happened to girls, and you might chalk it up to you being in a position to provide services, but you being an escort really doesn’t fucking matter.
One of my old girlfriends told me that sometimes she would sleep with a guy who would start hurting her during intercourse when he thrusted, and she would show pain or tell him to stop/ let up, but he wouldn’t. I don’t think I need to tell me how absolutely furious that makes me.
This may sound stupid and/or dangerous, but why wouldn’t you be more assertive/ physical in stopping a guy? Is it because it honestly doesn’t bother you that much, and you’ll just take it? Or is it because you fear the guy might hurt you?(I can’t talk much from a guy’s perspective but I think the vast majority of guys would not respond violently). Doesn’t it bother you that this guy might abuse some other girl in the future like that? Or am I just being a classic male with overprotective instincts?
Stories like that anger me and are one of the very few things that want to make me throw fists at a guy. Sorry just venting I guess.
BH,
I totally disagree with your choice. Not that you care, but I’ve always thought that life is all about choices. You make your own and stand by them. Be honest, loyal, and kind, but when others challenge whatever decision you’ve thought-out thoroughly, that’s when the phrase “fuck off” is best used.
You made a choice, and as someone who LOVES my parents to death, I respect the path you chose. I went a year without speaking to my parents and that was hard. It was the only way they knew I was serious about always listening to their advice, but at the end of my thoughts and reflections on what they and others say/said, it is my life. Period.
Memorial Day I flew them into Atlanta and had the best three days with them. At the end of this month I am throwing them a wicked-cool 60th wedding anniversary party in Florida. The point is – sometimes you can have it both ways. I live my own life and I still laugh and cry with my parents; mostly laugh and that turns to tears of the good kind.
I hope I made sense with what I wrote and I also hope you do not take offense to what I wrote, whatsoever. Nothing was meant to be mean or confrontational.
whatisinaname(you might remember that – TiB)
Sorry to hear that this whole deal has caused such a huge conflict with your family. You’re a great writer and I hope that you’ll keep writing… something. Hell, I’d read it if you went back to waitressing and blogged about that. I hope that you and your family are able to come to at least a truce about your choices. I think you are a strong woman (suck it everyone who posted above) and I know things will work out.
Wait…let me understand a few things:
1.) You had an inheritance.
2.) Your family had set aside money for your college tuition.
3.) And you turned to…hooking to make money when that wasn’t enough?
For Christ’s sake. You’re a spoiled little brat. Rod c pegged it. Middle-class white upbringing. You’re entitled. You’re easily distracted and this was the best way to maximize your earning potential?
You make me laugh.
Wait… Let me clarify a few things. Your reading comprehension skills don’t seem up to par.
1a. I’m sure you’ve heard of artistic license. At least, I hope you have. Anyway, it gives me the ability to exaggerate in order to further the plotline or more firmly make my point. Now, if you actually read what I wrote, you would see that I was close to being written out of the wills of every senior member of my family, thus inheriting nothing. Even the unrich stand to inherit something.
1b. I still have it because I chose my family over my job. Again, those darn reading comprehension skills would come in handy.
1c. This relates more to your third point. An inheritance generally comes from someone’s death. I’m not waiting for a family member to keel over so that I can financially feed off their demise. And I’M a brat?
2. Money was set aside for college, but it wasn’t enough to cover the more than 170 hours I will have accumulated by the time I graduate with my degree and all the trimmings. It will run out. The money for the remainder has to come from somewhere. Since I wanted no debt, a loan would be illogical. Since I have trouble balancing studying and working a full time job, a “real” job would be illogical, as well as inefficient.
3. So as you can see (hopefully), yes, I turned to escorting when I concluded that an inheritance I have not yet inherited and a college tuition fund that will run out before I graduate would not magically pay for the remainder of my undergraduate education, much less graduate school.
Oh, and I just reread everything Rod C posted. Nowhere did it call me a brat. Immature, sure, but at 21, who isn’t? Last point – last time I checked, the ability to make $400K pre-taxes working 40 hour weeks without needing an education or any true marketable skills is a pretty good maximization of earning potential. The typical “rich” professions put in much longer hours, generally require extensive education, and are often hampered by debt stemming from earning the needed education.
I’m not bothered by name callling, but an intelligent insult will have a logical base. Yours does not. Now, if you don’t mind, please put your helmet back on, sit down, and shut the fuck up until you have something useful to contribute.
I see you’re in college, too. Your stupidity makes me weep for our generation.
Holy shit. I havent been here in a while but fuck. This is an extremely disappointing thing to come back to. We’re friends and everything, and I dont at all look down upon you for your profession, but there was one thing i was never clear on: when was it going to be enough? You got the car you were saving up for, you were making it through school okay. You had enough for 170 HOURS!? Seriously? That way more than it takes to graduate where I go to school, by several semesters. I know your major is a rather difficult one, but do you think that hubris and greed played some role in your demise? I’m not insinuating that it did, rather, I am legitimately asking your thoughts about it. Also, I think you are a great writer. A shame that you are back to being XXXX instead of BH, but I hope you stick around anyway.
Regards,
rvb
Rocket,
When the HELL is the 160 blog going to go live? I have been waiting for almost two months and every day I check and every day I get more pissed off.
BH, it’s your parents’ job to explain what led them to those threats, but when I have thought about it from their perspective, I can see why they would disapprove. The threats, not so much, but the disapproval I get.
You say that what you do is no different than the average barfly, except you get paid. And I agree with you on that – there is also a lot of pretty girls essentially trading sex for purses/whatever from their sugardaddies. The thing is, those girls are not a good thing to compare yourself to. You sound like a very intelligent and strong young woman, write well, and I am sure you have a lot more to offer. Yes, nothing that pays as well now – but there is a reason the earnings are so high – among many things (as it has been pointed out), you can contract STDs via your mouth, some of the experiences you describe really sound a lot like rape, and it subjects you to a lot of emotional stress (even when you were just hiding your line of work from your parents).
I can understand why your parents would rather offer to give you extra money than have you continue escorting – I would do the same if I had a daughter. Granted, I am 25, so that probably doesn’t count.
Now, the way they went about doing this does not sound very good, but they are probably just trying to protect you. That said, threatening to cut off contact with your siblings – that is not their place, unless your sister is 3. And taking you out of their wills? Yeah whatever, there is a lot of people who have less (education, talent, etc) than you and are fine. And making you move back in with them? What else do they plan to do, take away your cellphone and make you go to bed at 8pm? Whatisinaname said it right, you are an adult.
It’s probably a bit late, but negotiating a middle ground between moving in like a 15 year old, and cutting off all contacts would make most sense. You should still try for that. Your parents clearly love you, and you clearly love them, and as adults, you should be able to come to a compromise.
But then again, I went against my parents, and not only left home, but left the country at 18 to become a doctor in a society that doesn’t look down on female docs and doesn’t expect them to start popping out kids at 18 and shut up and cater to their man. They were not happy (to put it mildly), and are still offering me a house and a car back at home, while I keep accumulating loans here living in a shithole – but I know I am happier here. In the end, it is your life, and you have to be able to look at yourself in the mirror. I’d rather drown in debt than get a sugardaddy/escort, but that is my choice, and noone elses.
Sorry for my post being so long, but I wish you luck in whatever you do, and I hope this whole mess just makes you stronger.
I can’t believe I’ve been going for years woituht knowing that.
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