The online diary of a gay courtesan.

We live in a world that is full of people who want something from us. That has lots of possibilities. Some people seek to use us for their various selfish purposes, or simply need a rubber doll with a pulse. Others want to drain us of our energy, or to prop themselves up higher by standing on our shoulders. But… There are those who want to cull happiness and success in us, because it gratifies them to help. And there are others who genuinely admire our strengths, or the ways in which we best our challenges.

All of this up and down with interacting with various beings can break our egos. If self-esteem is like a malleable piece of plastic, then that means with enough bending back and forth it can eventually snap. I know only a few people whom I believe when they say, “I like myself. Alot.” I admire them very much. I think I am beginning to internally embrace a concept that I articulated for myself quite a long time ago: My differentiation between pride and arrogance. On a logical level it makes sense to me, but until now I’m not sure I’ve been ready to apply it.

Put simply, I believe that there is a very distinct difference between being proud and being arrogant. When someone says to you in a negative tone, “Well, that sounded proud!” in my mind what they should have said is, “Well, that sounded arrogant!” And here is why I believe the two should be separated, not connected or juxstaposed on top of each other:

Pride is self love based on truth, and arrogance is self love based on nothing.

My challenge is to accept that which is true about myself, regardless of whether or not it is good/bad, right/wrong, etc. If I know something to be true about me, and I appreciate it, then it is my duty to be proud of that strength/attribute/goodness. Conversely, if I know something to be true, and I am ashamed of it, then it is my duty to make steps towards growth in this area of weakness/difficiency/negativity. The problem with arrogance is that it creates a false strength of weakness, generates lies that have to be forcefully propped up, and then uses the insecurity within the lies as a weapon against others.

I am having this discussion with myself, because tomorrow I want to discuss the problems I have had in accepting compliments and affirmations. After some very good long talks with a beautiful friend, and after an hour-long rant about my perfection from my mother (thank the Goddess for mothers! HA!), I woke up this morning, and for a flash I had a moment of pure acceptance: I am fucking fabulous! It passed, but it’s progress, right? Tomorrow I want to talk about the way the confusion between pride and arrogance stops me from seeing myself as I am (no matter how much others say they see something else in me).

I wasn’t going to write this post. Despite all the ways in which I let people into my world, there are some topics that just seem off-limits; however, I need to begin the healing process, so I am going to blog about this. Even though it makes me feel naked and vulnerable (odd that being naked and vulnerable doesn’t make me feel naked and vulnerable, but that this issue does).

I blogged about two weeks ago that I’d finally forgiven my ex. Within hours of doing that the universe put someone in my path. I thought it was a sign that the world had been desperate for me to meet someone, and that since I’d put it off so long that there was an immediate blip on the radar. I’m trying very hard right now not to be angry, but what I feel is rage mingled with grief. I have been given a very distinct reminder about why I normally do not make myself available beyond friendship.

Allen streaked into my life like some kind of meteor: Brilliant and inspiring, but trailing destruction in his wake. Without realizing it, I had resolved to do everything on his terms, because he is so damaged and hurt that I wanted to make him as comfortable and happy as his ex’s made him miserable. What I realize now is that I made too many concessions, and that I lost sight of my own priorities in a bid to satisfy him and keep him around. When he asked for time and patience, I gave it. When he asked for more intimacy (despite having just asked for time to get to know me), I gave it – on the condition that he not lose interest afterward. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said. So, I gave him what he said he was ready for. I am empathetic to the point of being psychic – I knew something was wrong immediately afterwards. When I finally let my cold walls down, I tend to incinerate people with my intensity. People should thank me for keeping myself boxed in – they generally can’t withstand the shock of seeing me in my fullness. It never takes long for me to burn someone out.

Eighteen hours later he is telling me about an ex for whom he still has feelings, and says he is overwhelmed and needs to slow everything down. Mhm. How’s this for slow enough: When he was online last night, he didn’t even say hello to me, let alone give me the promised response to an email (his preferred form of communication). He simply logged off. I sent him a good-bye text, deleted him from my phone, deleted and blocked him as best I could from other portals, and have decided to go back to my stance of “I don’t date.”

Let me explain that the reason I was completely ready to trust Allen is because we have so much in common: Movement/athletics/physical therapy, exotic dance background, legal adoption by cruel step fathers, extreme abuse by significant others, and a highly developed sense of empathy for others (despite an internal conflict between the need for love and the fear of it). The first night we met, he tipped me a $10 bill with a kind note on it. I have kept that tip for the last couple weeks, because it was special to me. I am depositing it in the bank today, so that I can buy some cat litter with my debit card.

What I have been reminded of is that when a gay guy says “I want a smart, kind, attractive, attentive man to love me,” what he means is “I want several douche nozzles to use me badly. Alot.” This blog takes on a bitter tone that I normally do not vent here; however, it is what I am experiencing right now, and if I am going to assert that adult entertainers have feelings too, then I have to occasionally let you see the darker moods too. I am not well.

This will take some time. But I mend quickly. If the damage isn’t too great. I am fucking fabulous. I want to lay down and die, I am so embarrassed. “I like you so much!” Not enough, it seems. The bad thing about meteors is that even small ones leave large craters.

I’ve said this before, but I want to remind myself and all my adult entertainment friends of something I was told by Carlos (he seems to be my exotic dance guru – and for good reason, too!): Remember that you are valuable beyond what your earn. Separate your self-worth from what you make. You are more than your money.

Working for tips is hard. You can’t plan. Some nights you’re on. Others, not so much. There’s only so much you can do to affect this: You can workout, be nice, and approach every person in the room and still not make good money. You can watch someone who isn’t very attractive, very nice, and/or impressive in some way or another sweep the bar. You simply cannot know.

The reason I’m saying this (and I’m surprised I haven’t blogged about it sooner) is because last night at the club was BAD. It was BAD BAD BAD. So many of my beautiful brothers were taking it personally. We all are vulnerable in this work, since our bodies and our egos are laid bare, but I’d like to remind all my friends that it is not them. It isn’t you, booboo! It’s a combination of factors that you cannot control! You are just as amazing on your off-nights as you are on your a-list nights.

Something you simply must remember is that there are times when you will do well and times when you won’t. Rather than looking at what you make each night, look at your longer goals and averages. Consider how everything tends to balance itself out in a week, or even a month. You have to let the cold water roll over your back. It’s easy to forget how amazing you are, but really: YOU ARE FUCKING FABULOUS.