The online diary of a gay courtesan.

Not all that long ago I was asked what I wanted in my connections with people. Well, J.C., I have an answer for you, and before I even write this (and I’m not so worried about whether or not I keep it to 500 words today) I sense it will end up in my Favorites list. This is one of those diamonds I sometimes birth after some painful struggle and terrifying introspection.

First, some background information. When I lived in Los Angeles from 1998 - 2002, I lived within a profoundly dysfunctional relationship with a man named Randy. Randy is wonderful in that he is financially generous and politically honest; however, he is one of the single most emotionally selfish, socially inept, intellectually insensitive, and grossly manipulative people I have ever met. His qualities cannot, for me, EVER counterbalance his negative attributes. And I have been tormented by his presence in my life for OVER TEN FUCKING YEARS… He drives me absolutely ape shit…

And last night he called me at 4:00 am to bitch me out.

I left my phone on, because Matt (whose story unfolds in “Honesty: It fucking sucks,” part 1, part 2, and part 3) reappeared 24 hours after I sent him a “good bye” text. He texted to let me know his phone had been dead for two days (which, for a variety of reasons I don’t care to explain here, I know to be a lie), and that he didn’t mean to come across as “shady.” He then immediately disappeared back into the mysterious labyrinth of his restaurant where time and communication skills are forever lost…

At any rate, I left my phone on in case Matt finally decided to call after all. He did not. But, lo and behold, rather than the person I most wanted a call from, I got a call from the person I least wanted a call from. I remember the phone ringing at 4:00 am, and I rolled over and I actually cursed outloud in indignation. I let it go to voicemail. I checked that voicemail a few hours later, unable to sleep.

And the diamond was forged from within me.

Randy WENT OFF on me. “I’m so disappointed in you as a person! You didn’t call for Thanksgiving or Christmas. You never answer when I call. You always let me go to voicemail, and you never call me back. How busy can you fucking be? This is a bunch of bullshit! I’m getting the message that you don’t want to talk to me or something, and I’m not going to call you anymore.”

Here is what I was yelling in response to him: “I don’t care if you’re disappointed, asshole! I didn’t even THINK to call you, and why would I?? Of course I don’t answer: You’re an asshole! And I don’t call back, because I don’t fucking want to! Too busy to talk TO YOU! What’s bullshit is that it’s taken you 10 years to figure all this out. Don’t do me any favors! GOD!” And I deleted his voicemail, feeling triumphant that I was FINALLY, after more than a decade, not going to allow him to guilt me into talking to him. I am finally rid of this person!

GOD!

And then… well… the moment his voicemail blinked out of existence, I realized something:

It is distinctly possible that I am Randy/Matt. Actually, I’m far worse than Randy/Matt. I have been sick with fretting over not hearing from Matt with any consistency for +10 days, but I have been doing this to Randy for +10 years. Why? Because I can’t bear the thought of the confrontation. I am heaped with guilt at the thought of telling Randy to leave me alone, and to keep his manipulative insanity to himself.

And here I am, sitting by with the audacity to cry over Matt? Oh, my fucking GOD! I don’t know that it’s true, but what if it is?? What if the only reason Matt responds to me (at all) is because he feels, from time to time, enough guilt or exasperation to text or call me just to shut me up, or to give me a dose of attention and leave me to my misery for a while? That’s the attitude I’ve taken with Randy for years and years: “Okay, I will talk to Randy for an hour today, since I’ve ignored him for months, and that’s good enough to get me through for a few more months.”

I’m a horrible person. And I’m a hypocrite. I don’t believe that Karma is a punishment: It is a lesson. And just when I was beginning to wallow in self-pity about how horrible Matt is treating me… the phone rings. That message from Randy was a message from the Universe. I have been accusing Matt of being too chicken shit to just tell me that he doesn’t want to talk to me, but I’m a thousand times more guilty of the same exact cowardice.

Now, the question is this: Do I break this cycle of cowardice, call Randy back, and FINALLY say “I got your message, and I prefer that you not contact me anymore?” Or do I break the cycle of guilt, avoiding the horrible argument Randy will try to start, in an attempt to not respond to yet another ploy?

Randy CONSCIOUSLY uses guilt to coerce people to talk to him. That is the only distinction between how he has treated me over the years, and how I have interacted with Matt over the weeks. Was I, in a more subtle manner, trying to guilt Matt into calling me or seeing me???

I don’t know.

But to answer C.J.’s question once and for all: What I want in my connections with people (friends, family, lovers, clients, and otherwise) is for people to keep their expectations of each other’s capacities reasonable; to consider both sides of a situation before deciding who, if anyone, is right/wrong or good/bad; and to allow everyone in a relationship the ability to evolve constantly, and to come/leave peacefully when needed. Whether honesty fucking sucks or not, THAT is what I want to give and get from my connections.

Hi Devon,

Thank you,
Love
Bastian

Dear Bastian,

I am sorry to hear that your heart is hurting. It feels like you’ve been struck by a wrecking ball, I’m sure, and I wish I could snap my fingers and make it stop. There really isn’t much anyone can do or say to make that internal collapsing go away: Time alone will rebuild your foundation. I won’t say that I hope you heal soon, because grief is a process with many steps that all have to be experienced in their proper order, but I will say that I hope you heal completely.

And yet there is good to be taken from this. You gave something very special to Oliver. It says something positive about you that you were willing to take that risk, and I hope you won’t repeat my mistake and cling to bitterness. Time cures, but in the meantime you have to remember to live well without Oliver. You are not responsible for him. You are responsible for you. And it doesn’t matter why he has made the series of choices he has made, it matters only that you acknowledge and move on.

Since I have been in your position many times I can completely empathize with what are probably feelings of anger, sadness, betrayal, loss, and confusion. And I know that it can be overwhelming. But I also know that if you are strong enough to give of yourself to others, that you are strong enough to give of yourself to yourself.

Feed your soul with friends and family. Immerse yourself in the hobbies and passtimes that make you happy. Embrace your pain process, and then let that energy go back out to the Universe. There is a whole support system out there waiting for you, so please do not make the mistake I made so many times: Do not isolate yourself out of fear. Take time to yourself when you need it, but remember to come back out of your dark cave and be warmed in the light of the other types of love that the people in your life WANT to share with you.

I wish you peace,

Devon

This entry is rather belated, in terms of coming after the day we call Thanksgiving, but I didn’t want to feel pressured to write something just for the sake of writing it. I am ready now. I hope all of you had wonderful holidays, and that you were surrounded by love.

I have a great deal for which I am thankful; however, I want to focus on three points here. I am blessed to have a Mom and Gramma who understand me without question. I am happy to be genuinely at peace with the closure I have achieved after my two attempts at dating in the last calendar year. And I am so happy to have grown into a career that makes me feel free.

This year I didn’t feel like being bothered with a lot of company. I wasn’t in the mindset for all the voices and feet that Thanksgiving involves. And I definitely felt irritated at the prospect of running around all over the place to see various sets of people who never even offer to meet me in the middle to make the drive easier. So, I took off from the family scene this time around. Mom and Gramma didn’t question or pressure me. They understood I needed Mom/Gramma time, and there was nothing else said. We don’t really do guilt in my family (at least not when it comes to holiday stuff) . It’s quite refreshing.

Back in February I was upset over Allen. In July it was Steve. For the former I experienced a few months of real heartache and turmoil, and for the latter I was so overwhelmed with car problems and my transition out of the clubs that I didn’t have time to be upset. Both were unresolved until very recently. I have absorbed the lesson from Allen that I put into practice with Steve: I am now fully able to be friends with men with whom I have had failed romantic relationships. I wasn’t open to it before, but I am now. And it is so empowering. I honor and respect both of these men. Walking through the fire burns, but coming out on the other side you can definitely see how the flames do not necessarily sear the flesh. Those licks of heat can also burn away the chaff. It took a while, but my heart is lighter for having known them both.

I am a full-time companion now. I danced with the afore-mentioned Allen at an AIDS charity benefit last Wednesday, and we helped to raise $3,000; however, I did that for free. I haven’t danced in a club for money in months. And I don’t miss it at all. In the bars I had so much stress from worrying about sifting through the crowds, trying to find the people who appreciated me. Now, I know that the people I am meeting are at least interested in me on some level, and I am even finding some of my clients on the verge of becoming friends (a term I do not use lightly).

I hope that you, too, have plenty for which you can be thankful. I wish us all success and happiness. And I hope that you will invest in your own joy, if you don’t already. Make the care of yourself a top priority – only then can you truly give back to the world. Giving to yourself, so that you can give of yourself, is the best way I can think of to create a self-fulfilling prophecy of satisfaction and fellowship.

Dear Devon,

So I was interested in getting to know a little more about you. I was an entertainer as well (ie: a dancer), but never did porn… was offered..  (thoughtfully)…as well as a musician…

I wondered: Is it hard for you to have relationships, because you’re a Sean Cody boy? And, when you do, having sex with so many guys that don’t mean anything, how is different with the person you ARE in a relationship with? Does it affect that person? Do they wind up having issues with it?

Would be cool to know you…

- luis.

Hi Luis,

First, thanks for taking the time to write a thoughtful note. I appreciate it when people talk to me, rather than at me. So, that was very nice.

It’s hard for me to have relationships, regardless of the Sean Cody videos, escorting, and exotic dancing. I have never had a good one, so I essentially made a pretty firm commitment to not bothering with them anymore. Relationships have always cost me far more than they give back. The decision to be an adult entertainer was made after I asked myself (with tears in my eyes), “But how will I find someone after this?” And my response, “If it’s the right person it won’t matter, and none of the others from before my adult entertaining were worth the hassle.” What that effectively means: I have always been better when I’m by myself, and doing Sean Cody was my way of sealing off myself from dating. Now… you want to date me? Really?? Do you REALLY want to date me??? If someone can know all this and still love me, then he is the one I want. I did this not only to make it harder for me, but harder for the “right one(s)” as well. Trial by fire, baby. I want the real thing or nothing at all. I’m intense like that.

So, to address your next question about the difference between sex with clients and sex with someone who “matters.” First: Everyone I have sex with matters. But I understand what you mean. How is it different when I’m emotionally invested? WAY WAY WAY better. I can make someone cum. That isn’t any real big skill. I pride myself on making people feel beautiful, whether I’m “invested” or not. But when I am connected deeply, the sex transforms itself. It’s nothing I “do.” It’s got more to do with what I become. But yes, there’s an emmense difference between the two. And it usually breaks my heart, and is the reason I don’t go there. I’ve made the mistake twice this year of letting people get beyond the velvet rope, and it won’t happen again for a while (person A, person B and the fallout of person B). It’s not that I don’t love. It’s that I love too much. That’s what I need protecting from. Not from others, but from myself.

As far as my career affecting others: I think it affected the two I accidentally bonded with, in that they used me as a trophy fuck. I mean, it’s fine. (No, it’s not fine at all.) But it says more about them than it does me. I slipped. My bad. I didn’t mean to actually like you…

But there you have it: No one wants what they can have. Psychologically speaking, we attach more value to what we have to earn. We attach no value to what is taken for granted. It may seem that I have created an emptiness around me, but (in fact) I have made myself all the more desireable for the right one(s), because he/they can’t have me. I’m a nice person. He/They should deserve me, and he/they should make me deserve him/them.

My friend David, who often manages the door at Swinging Richards, made a comment this evening that made me pause for a moment. He’s attracted to one of the dancers on a romantic level, but said, “Rule #1: Don’t date strippers.”

“Why do you think I’ve been single so long? You say you shouldn’t date a stripper, but I don’t think strippers (in general) should date anyone. But why do you feel that?”

“Aside from the the obvious, I think dancers forget the value of a real relationship.”

“You think we don’t know how to accept anything from people anymore, not even compliments.”

“Exactly.”

And he has a valid point. I was at a birthday party last weekend, and I was being inundated with compliments from strangers. I wasn’t at work. I had literally just gotten off the plane from San Diego less than an hour prior. I was tired. I wasn’t thinking about being on my best behavior. And so I often just half-smiled and nodded as an overly-relaxed gesture of thanks.

One guy snapped me out of my stupor: “You’re an asshole.”

“What?!”

“I just paid you some major compliments, and all you can do is nod your head and look at me with pity?”

Wow. I’d not realized I was coming across that way. It definitely wasn’t intentional. Between that experience and David’s comments, I am realizing that there is a catch-22 going on here. Without compliments I have no external basis for feedback. But compliments individually are becoming more like white noise, especially the ones that seem like empty flattery. Sincere compliments I am still able to absorb some, but as awkward as it might sound, I’d really like it if people would talk TO me instead of AT me.

Some people, who will pointedly refuse to empathize with this “problem,” will say, “You get compliments at all. Stop complaining. There are people who get too few or none.” Yes. This is true, except I’m not complaining or bemoaning. I’m simply recognizing a side effect of this career (and I think all jobs jade us in ways particular to themselves): I have been suckled on compliments/flattery for so long that most of them fall flat. If a stranger forgoes introducing himself, jumps right to flirtation and flattery, and drops compliments overly easily… well… I’ve (without intending it) started giving them the priority I would give anyone at work who wants to talk but doesn’t commit to getting a dance/VIP: I smile, nod, and move quickly to other thoughts.

As much as I have enjoyed adult entertainment, it really can manifest some fucked up psychology.