Devon Hunter

Okay, a little background about what’s going on lately. I’ve been pretty open about being an escort with just about everyone. I tend to treat it the way Madonna did when pictures of her came out in Penthouse way back in 1985. Her response was something on the order of, “Yeah. And?” It kinda killed that particular controversy.

I didn’t become an escort to shock people. In fact that has nothing to do with it at all. I embraced it knowing it would be controversial, but I didn’t make the choice for controversy’s sake. And it’s a good thing, too: No one I’ve met thus far has been particularly shocked. Not that I’m disappointed, but it’s rather surprising. Family, potential partners, friends, and readers all have the same response: “Okay, just be careful. I’m not gonna judge you.”

This is fabulous on the one hand, but it raises a question on the other: Have we, on some level at least, moved into the post-controversy era? Have so many people been exposed as adult video models and exotic dancers on American Idol that no one cares anymore? Did reality TV finally drive the first nail into the coffin of prudence/prurience? I certainly hope so.

As far as family goes: Mom knows. So does Gramma. My sister knows. I told Dad, and he took it as a compliment to himself that his son is a “stud” (even though I’m adopted, and it’s not his genes at work per se). I’ve not told Dad’s mother, because although she is probably a teensy bit more liberal than she pretends, she does still send me conservative political emails about what Rush Limbaugh “thinks,” so I just don’t wanna go there right now. I’ve not told my uncles, but I’m not close enough to most of them for it to matter, and Uncle Greg would probably just laugh and give me his rendition of the Celtic Warriors’ greeting (which is using the heel of the palm to rub quick circles in the center of the friend’s chest while grunting “AAAAAARGH!”).

My friends haven’t judged me negatively at all. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Not a single one is anything but supportive.

In terms of personal relationships with other men: I didn’t escort until after breaking it off with Steve last summer, so there was no one to tell until Matt back in December. He didn’t care about that. He has other issues, but my escorting isn’t one of them. “J” (someone I’ve talked to on and off for nearly four years, but never dated) decided to finally pursue me right in the middle of this Matt situation, and he isn’t offended (in fact, he asked if I thought he could use escorting to pay off his house). “A” is another guy who has shown interest, both in me and in escorting. Shawn, a model in D.C., is definitely not put off by it. In short, while I’m trying to heal from Matt there are people pursuing me who aren’t allowing my being a courtesan to dissuade them in the least. How fucking irritating! OMG!

To put all this into context, a reader in Canada named Doug shows my blog to his mother. Doug is about Mom’s age, if not a few years older. His mother is thus older than Gramma. She said to Doug that I am “possessed of the refined sensibilities that demand a well-appointed house.” Aside from being utterly charming in an Old World Colonial manner, her comment shows that even Canadians of a certain age don’t care about all this (but they have a vastly different sexual culture north of the U.S. border). She went on to say that I “should marry a doctor.” Doug is going to ask her advice for me on finding a well-appointed man. She is concerned about my safety in escorting, to which I replied, “I meet worse men dating than I ever have escorting.” Doug’s father has said, “When men say they love you, remember that they also love Ketchup.” Mhm. Perhaps I should stop threatening to move to Canada and just do it?

So, all in all, I’ve been expecting a big hullabaloo, but society at large has given me the Madonna treatment: Yeah. And?

I think I’m completed elated by this.

PS

Don’t forget to place your vote for Best Escort Blog for the 2010 Hookies by visiting my ad on Rentboy! The check boxes are at the bottom of the righthand sidebar.

OH MY GOD!!

I don’t remember how much I’ve talked directly about it, but I used to be an educator for six years. I was a high school teacher and a college professor. I left, not because of students (who can definitely be challenging), but because of administrators and their bullshit politics. I am not the one to berate in front of parents/students/staff, I can tell you that much… I was so miserable within the institution that I ended up on medication. It was a rough time. Bad.

Anyway, from time to time a former student will find me on Facebook, and it is so overwhelmingly gratifying to see how well they’re doing! I remember them as teenagers or undergrads, so when I see these beautiful women completing degrees in law or nursing, or who are going to graduate school, and who tell me that it was ME who helped them get there??? OH MY GOD… you have no idea how much I wish I’d gotten that while I was still teaching… But, better late than never.

I loved my girls. I really did. I was in love with them, and they were constantly breaking my heart. The day I wrote my resignation letter for the high school was when I realized that I’d given all I could, and it would never be enough to fix the hurt and abuse many of them suffered. But today I got friend requests from over ten of my girls… TEN… And they’re all alive. They’re not only alive, they’re surviving. Better yet: They’re thriving! And it almost rips my heart out that they’ve become the incredible women they are. ME! ME! I inspired them to leave the neighborhoods that sought to clutch them and hold them; to break out of systemic abuse; to aspire to successes that no one else dreamed for them. ME!

If I’d had a little more of this nourishment as an educator I can tell you I would have never left it. But no. Our system is set up to blame every short coming on teachers, rather than on parents who don’t raise their children. Rather than on kids who have decided to refuse to learn. On political structures like No Child Left Behind that leave almost every child behind… And now they want to tie teacher pay to student achievement??? You must have lost your damn mind…

But, better late than never… I never regretted being an educator, but now I can look back, and much of the bitterness about those six years has evaporated. And this shines a bright light on a simple fact: People will extend beyond themselves time and again for only so long; however, a little simple recognition is sometimes enough to completely revitalize a drained battery. So, if you are in a position of power; or if you are someone who is guided by someone doing his/her best to help you learn; or if you see someone who is threadbear in his/her soul… THANK HIM/HER FOR THE GOOD WORK BEING DONE! You may have no idea how valuable that actually is.

Hearing from Whitney, Megan, Kelli, Kim, Xenia, Tiesha, Leslie, Melissa, Jessica, Byrd, Robyn, and all my other dance babies is a gift I never expected, and one I wish now I’d gotten sooner. Knowing that they respected me (even if, as teenagers, they didn’t know how to express it), and that they have remembered me gives me something precious, and brings levity to the memory of a very dark time.

ME! It’s because of me…

PS

Don’t forget to place your vote for Best Escort Blog for the 2010 Hookies by visiting my ad on Rentboy! The check boxes are at the bottom of the righthand sidebar.

I get a massage almost weekly without exception. I need them. Between working out, dancing, traveling, and life I have to. I don’t have health insurance, so I have to take care of myself with exercise, diet, and massage. I intend to add a bit more cardio to my life, and I am going to (at some point finally) add yoga back in as well. I really cannot recommed enough that you find a massage therapist with a healing touch.

And how can I not share that with someone who needs it? A friend has been in pain. Finally last night I convinced him to go with me. I got mine done, and then he laid on the table after me. It was so gratifying to see the changes in his body taking place as Ron worked the knots, kinks, locks, blocks, and regrets out of my friend’s back, legs, arms, neck, and feet. I felt like I’d done a double-session, just by watching the second hour. I was surprised at how nice it was just to watch the process that I find so healing.

Today my friend is smiling, breathing, laughing… He always does this, of course; however, today he is doing it with a levity of spirit. And that is really amazing. Both because he feels better, but because I do too. I really enjoyed doing this for him, and I hope I can keep tripping over little ways to give back to the people who feed my spirit.