So, what happened to me eventually as an sex industry entertainer?
I was beaten, raped, kidnapped, strangled, suffocated, guns put in my mouth, hair cut off, tied up, gagged, put in trunks of cars, bones broken, spit on, kicked, pushed, stalked by crazy men, and during that time I WAS PIMPED for five years.
This was done to the extent that I didn’t even know who I was anymore… I literally became the alter ego named “Fallen” because she was strong, she could handle all of it without mental damage, she could get up after being punched and “knocked out” with no problem… right? She HAD to take over… because she was the only one at the time that could keep that little girl Annie alive…
I never knew that I would ever be pimped… in fact I was against it. But I fell in love with mine before I even knew he was a pimp, and because I wanted to prove my love, I decided to try the “game” and give it a chance. I thought, it couldn’t be all that bad, like the TV and media portrayed, could it? Just like before, I had to learn the hard way! It didn’t matter how many times that I was mistreated I NEVER got used to it. But I would not leave because I was so in love. Every time it happened, a piece of me (Annie) died and “Fallen” would get stronger.
I actually wanted him to brag to the other “old school” pimps that I was “the best girl he had ever had!”
The truth is this, I would have DIED for him… and was willing to go where no other girl would go, just to make him happy! I never let anyone know that he was my “pimp” but would get dirty looks when I was with him…and I started to experience “hate” from others towards him. This hurt me and it drove me to even stand up for him. You know why? Because the hip-hop music I was listening to and the other “pimp” friends we were around had me convinced that “white” society as a whole had it out for them! I actually got upset, and believed that I could help by giving my pimp money…that it would change this unhealthy “oppression” mentality of slavery from the civil war era. In other words, I wanted to “fix” his hurt deep inside his heart.
Is it possibile in my ignorance of the truth, that I unknownly become the “white” slave???
At this point I didn’t care…because I was “in love” and understood his pain…for I had seen prejudice when I was with him first hand! After all, here I was working as a prostitute and had someone that actually accepted me for who I was and what I did for a living! I was convinced that he loved me–you could not tell me otherwise at the time. This belief inside of my heart prompted me to try and prove that society’s thoughts were wrong about pimps–and how they did not understand the REAL reason why the pimps had chosen their profession.
What I am positive about is that there was NEVER intended harm to me on my pimp’s part… he would continue to apologize to me and I would continue to forgive him. I couldn’t help it! I always wanted to somehow “rescue” him believe it or not! This turned into a cycle of severe abuse.