I have been drinking since the age of 13. I am currently 24 years old. For the past 6 years or so, I have drank alcohol heavily almost every night. If I took one or two days off a week, I felt “accomplished,” if you will. Every week I would tell myself, “Oh, I’ll quit on Monday.” Monday comes and I would be out having drinks by myself wondering what to do with my life… rant
Being a homeless child, I saw a lot of things. I was tortured, raped, abused and treated as an object all of my life. When I turned 18, I became a stripper. All I knew was you dance, flash your boobies and make a few hundred dollars, which was AMAZING!! Right? No. I felt like I had no other choice. I was broke, working two jobs at a Taco Bell and a Subway in the middle of nowhere, Arkansas and needed to get the fuck out of dodge, (and back to Texas!) I had moved there to support my mother after her divorce with my first step father.
After a month of saving making $100 a night, I packed up and drove to Austin, TX. Arkansas strip clubs obviously are very crummy! Anyways, I had a little over 1k and was ready to restart. Arkansas law required dancers to wear pasties that covers the areola/nipples and keep your t-back on while on stage. You must put your stripper outfit/dress back on BEFORE stepping off of the stage and getting onto the floor. There was no such thing as a table dance, if a customer wanted a dance from you, you would take him to the back lounge area and dance, with your outfit on (and shoes off) while a bouncer starred the entire time. $20, clothed dances.
So here I am in Austin, TX. I made a list of gentleman’s clubs I had googled and picked a place called The Yellow Rose. I remember picking it because that was my mothers favorite flower, a yellow rose. I go to the club and get hired on the spot. Nobody really told me what to do or where to go, just pointed me in the direction of the dressing room. As I am walking through the crowd, girls are walking around in just their thongs, titties out, grinding on guys all over the floor. I had a panic attack. What the fuck is this? Is this legal? I thought we couldn’t do that? I thought we had to dance with clothes on?! I was fucked. Shit.
I have my mental freak out moment and get dressed. The girls are absolutely gorgeous here compared to Arkansas! I felt stumped. Here I am, an 18 year old girl just trying to finally have a savings, subjecting herself to be the exact thing she had always been since she was a child – a sex object. I am and was the last person who should ever be in these situations..who should ever be spoken to or treated this way.. All of my life, I have been the object. This was just the beginning to another many years of sexual abuse.
To Be Continued..
I Felt Like Talking 