Take it off, Baby...

Rule # Two:
      Be bad but don't become bad.

Involving yourself in bad behavior opens you up to the many effects of rebellion. Some of it can be good if you choose to learn from every experience but as usual, everything has a negative side to it as well. It has always confused me why if you don't pay enough attention you change and not in a good way. If you are really choosing to test your limits just be careful.

My main reasoning for taking this project on was to learn about myself. One of the many conversations I've had with my confidante circled around the fact that society sets out a path for you. Your parents, friends, and teachers all aid this path and push you in the right direction. It's almost like we are programed to do as we are told and never question why it is we must do it. Society trains us to encourage our peers and children to do the same. Automatic submission without objection is what I would call it. We eventually become robots in human life. I was... until my English class.

I did everything by the book. I would complain about the things my parents wanted me to do but I would do them none the less. It wasn't until that English class that I realized I wanted to question; I wanted to fight. So I started. I had a list of things I wanted to do and, yes, a lot of those things had to do with my sexuality.

I had spent years hiding sexuality from my family. Growing up in a Christian home you come to know what is acceptable and what is not. You learn that good people don't do this and good people don't do that. But why? What makes us good or bad? Why is it that I can do good things and still be bad but I can't do bad things and still be good?

This is what I mean about being bad without becoming bad.

As part of my societal rebellion, I recently became an exotic dancer. In other terms, (just to add that negative stigma we are all used to) I am a stripper. I was so afraid that I was going to hate myself after getting up on a stage, surrounded by mirrors and ogling men, to take my clothes off while I danced. As much as I believed that I stepped of the stage knowing I was a natural slut. Even as I walked around the room and talked to men I was completely comfortable. I had felt so strongly about my fear and that going out of my comfort zone to do this wold make me a better person. The initial hype of feeling so confident had me aching with excitement. When I was there I owned it!

One night, the hype wore off. The money had been great and my self confidence had been through the roof but I didn't know how far I had fallen into it until I was assaulted. A man approached my stage and whispered sweet things into my ear. He begged for a dance but demanded a bargain. I was strapped for cash so I agreed. I led him to the back area and sat him down. I watched as the girls finished their dances and walked away. We were alone in a crowded strip club when I started the dance. I fixed my pearls around my neck and slipped out of my sheer dress. I placed one foot to the side of the chair and swung the other over his body. Naked down to a thong, I lowered myself onto his lap and circled my hips over him.

I should have know right then to walk away. I should have collected my money (as the bouncers had told me twice before) upfront.

I had come up with a routine on how to handle unwanted but friendly grazes over my body. I would slip out of it in sexy ways by pushing their hands with a little force onto more appropriate parts of my body or get up and switch my position if their hands continued to travel in the same directions. It had worked so far and my customers were always happy with the dances I gave.

As I pushed my breasts into his face he made his first move. He placed his hands on my legs. I was comfortable with it even as he begged with pressure for me to sit. I started to feel uncomfortable when I felt his penis grow beneath his pants and right at the edge of my inner thigh. I tried to maneuver my way out of it. Again and again I tried to stop what I knew was about to happen. He locked his arms around me and dug his elbows into my thighs to keep me from moving.

No one was around. No one.

I don't want to write about this. I'm sitting here on the verge of tears because I just don't want to write about it. I've talked about it with two people but each person has gotten a more acceptable version of what happened but here I am forced to tell the truth. Here I am writing the truth of what happened and I know that it will make me look bad. I fell into this industry and let something happen because I wanted the money. I subjected myself to something that has made me truly ashamed and I am about to spill my guts as to why.

The DJ rounded the corner and for a split second I thought, "GET HELP!" I reached my hand out but by the time I did, he had turned to search the rest of the club for someone. I put my hand back against the mirror and stared at myself while I grinded my naked bottom and barely covered vagina over this man's crotch. I pushed his hands and told him he was hurting me. By the third time he did it, I couldn't move his hands. I know that all I would have had to do was get up but I wanted the money. I stopped looking at myself in the mirror when he started moaning. I thought to myself that I was the most disgusting person in the world. He asked for another dance and promised me $60. That's all? I was letting him violate me and I was helping him get off just for $60. I started to cry when his moans got louder and his thrusts got more violent. By the end on the song he relaxed against the seat and let me dismount.I had to spend the next five minutes trying to get my money from him. I stood there with my face plastered with a smile and collected my money.

I walked as swiftly as possible to the bathroom and cried my eyes out. I wasn't even going to do anything about it. I was just going to cry and feel disgusting. I couldn't help but look at myself in the mirror and start crying again because I had just let someone do something so vile that I felt like I was vile. I slipped into the industry and became bad.

Money and sex have a weird way of distorting your thought process and your priorities.

I told you that story to explain that I feel I could have done better if I had paid more attention. If I had watched the things the girls did things or recognized patterns or even reflected on my job more often I would have seen it coming.

You need to dare to be bad but be careful that you don't become bad in the process.