--disclaimer: I’ve read some stories of support in quitting in this forum, and wanted to share my take: Partly as an affirmation for myself, partly to share my modest life experience, and lastly, to share a beautiful thing which occurred to me through this industry recently, --
To summarize previous posts on this quitting/falling in love with SPs it’s said to be almost impossible to quit and opinions vary on what is “right”. Like many, my case is one of indecision and moral dilemma. Since I was 18 (I’m now 32) I’ve been in a relationship with someone I didn’t consider at first consider to be my life partner. At first I looked for a band-aid approach, for gratification and to provide something that wasn’t there. Bad decisions led to worse and my circumstance was eventually complicated by the addition of a young family. In spite of the putrid relationship I was convinced that separation was not the answer. With a combination of counseling and self-restraint things gradually improved for me, and two years ago I decided to quit while I was ahead so-to-speak. Yes, I finally knocked some sense into myself and decided what I wanted to do with my life.
They say third time is a charm, and I think that is an understatement. I am an exceedingly rational person, and so I battled my demons of discontent and regret, trying for 2 more years to ascertain what I wanted by a process of elimination. My to-do-list was a spreadsheet. My hard drive stacked with photos and videos of women, organized according to their physical features and the form of deviant act performed. I searched endlessly for wisdom, in literature, in the bible (which incidentally did not paint a clear picture of prostitution for me). My search narrows, and I find myself again (Thank you, Montreal) faced with the uncomfortable dilemma of breaking my pact to meet The One for one last shot. I’m succumbing to temptation now, for weeks, months, and the search intensifies to hours spent comparing reviews, checking availabilities, asking myself “why am I so weak?” And so, I asked for courage.
I considered that maybe the bulk of my failures to-date came from simply being unprepared, or half-assed in my approach. If I was going make it through to the other side it would have to be a ritual cleansing. The biblical cycle of death and rebirth, and this would necessarily be uncomfortable. It might seem ridiculous, but I prepared for weeks, mentally, physically. Even resorting to voodoo. All I knew is that I knew nothing, Whereas I had constructed an emotional safety net up to this point in my life, I felt like making this choice was the equivalent of cutting the net and jumping, and I was downright terrified. Finally, as much by premeditation as by serendipity, I took the plunge. Needless to say, it took more than one attempt. On the eve of the second try I had already accumulated a feeling of disgust. I reminded myself that I’d expected this to happen. All day I spent cursing my stupidity while meditating on my goals for the visit and building apprehension. On my way out to the appointment as if to add to my resolve for this occasion I deleted gigabytes of my meticulously catalogued pornography, forever. Try as I might to convince myself that this would be the last One, I could feel a fear creeping in. In the car outside the location I sat for a good 30 minutes deliberating whether a good or bad encounter was theoretically a better outcome, and I reminded myself that whatever happened in that room, good or bad, the most difficult part would be what came after. The last thing I can remember distinctly is counting the doors to the room from the elevator. I mused that if my bullshit plan were to come together I should technically be a different person altogether when I counted those doors back.
I suspected there is a particular emotional makeup that makes a man liable to fall in love with an escort, and I considered myself in that camp. Such love as I knew it though was common and selfish. Manipulative messages to coerce words in return. Giving a bracelet expecting it to be worn so that we can occupy her thoughts. I readied myself with a reminder not to give in to these types of foolish thoughts, thinking naively that would be the largest obstruction in my conquest.
The door opened and what appeared before my eyes was nothing but an angel. I became overcome with the feeling then and there, that if this was going to happen, she would be the one. And so, I began to tell her something I didn’t think she would want to hear. I spoke to her honestly of my plan, that I wanted her to be my last, not knowing what to expect as a reaction, and I asked for her help. And then something happened that I could never have foreseen.
This magnificent creature - this angel from heaven – led me by the hand and showed me what love is for the first time in my life. She showed me that true love is unconditional. Love is selfless. Love is trusting and carefree. True love is relentless and only creates more love, without expectation of return. For you see, knowing full well that she had nothing to gain, this girl obliged my request. Even when I myself didn’t trust the words that came out of my mouth, she had faith and believed in my fight, and she sent me off to battle in style. And my God how could I not love her in return! But as this euphoria washed over me, I began to realize the gravity of my quest. Once again my curiosity getting the better of me I’ve searched for my soulmate and found her, here in the hands of others. And I am helpless to act because to love her and even to consider pursuing it would be thus to betray the trust she just gave me. So I conclude then and there that the only way to return this love is by adopting her very essence of life; and to give love to others as unconditionally as she gave it to me. The struggle is real. Each day afterward as the perfume smell on my sweater fades away I try ever harder to remind myself of what I must love and why.
I will be good. Because if anything she believed in me.
To summarize previous posts on this quitting/falling in love with SPs it’s said to be almost impossible to quit and opinions vary on what is “right”. Like many, my case is one of indecision and moral dilemma. Since I was 18 (I’m now 32) I’ve been in a relationship with someone I didn’t consider at first consider to be my life partner. At first I looked for a band-aid approach, for gratification and to provide something that wasn’t there. Bad decisions led to worse and my circumstance was eventually complicated by the addition of a young family. In spite of the putrid relationship I was convinced that separation was not the answer. With a combination of counseling and self-restraint things gradually improved for me, and two years ago I decided to quit while I was ahead so-to-speak. Yes, I finally knocked some sense into myself and decided what I wanted to do with my life.
They say third time is a charm, and I think that is an understatement. I am an exceedingly rational person, and so I battled my demons of discontent and regret, trying for 2 more years to ascertain what I wanted by a process of elimination. My to-do-list was a spreadsheet. My hard drive stacked with photos and videos of women, organized according to their physical features and the form of deviant act performed. I searched endlessly for wisdom, in literature, in the bible (which incidentally did not paint a clear picture of prostitution for me). My search narrows, and I find myself again (Thank you, Montreal) faced with the uncomfortable dilemma of breaking my pact to meet The One for one last shot. I’m succumbing to temptation now, for weeks, months, and the search intensifies to hours spent comparing reviews, checking availabilities, asking myself “why am I so weak?” And so, I asked for courage.
I considered that maybe the bulk of my failures to-date came from simply being unprepared, or half-assed in my approach. If I was going make it through to the other side it would have to be a ritual cleansing. The biblical cycle of death and rebirth, and this would necessarily be uncomfortable. It might seem ridiculous, but I prepared for weeks, mentally, physically. Even resorting to voodoo. All I knew is that I knew nothing, Whereas I had constructed an emotional safety net up to this point in my life, I felt like making this choice was the equivalent of cutting the net and jumping, and I was downright terrified. Finally, as much by premeditation as by serendipity, I took the plunge. Needless to say, it took more than one attempt. On the eve of the second try I had already accumulated a feeling of disgust. I reminded myself that I’d expected this to happen. All day I spent cursing my stupidity while meditating on my goals for the visit and building apprehension. On my way out to the appointment as if to add to my resolve for this occasion I deleted gigabytes of my meticulously catalogued pornography, forever. Try as I might to convince myself that this would be the last One, I could feel a fear creeping in. In the car outside the location I sat for a good 30 minutes deliberating whether a good or bad encounter was theoretically a better outcome, and I reminded myself that whatever happened in that room, good or bad, the most difficult part would be what came after. The last thing I can remember distinctly is counting the doors to the room from the elevator. I mused that if my bullshit plan were to come together I should technically be a different person altogether when I counted those doors back.
I suspected there is a particular emotional makeup that makes a man liable to fall in love with an escort, and I considered myself in that camp. Such love as I knew it though was common and selfish. Manipulative messages to coerce words in return. Giving a bracelet expecting it to be worn so that we can occupy her thoughts. I readied myself with a reminder not to give in to these types of foolish thoughts, thinking naively that would be the largest obstruction in my conquest.
The door opened and what appeared before my eyes was nothing but an angel. I became overcome with the feeling then and there, that if this was going to happen, she would be the one. And so, I began to tell her something I didn’t think she would want to hear. I spoke to her honestly of my plan, that I wanted her to be my last, not knowing what to expect as a reaction, and I asked for her help. And then something happened that I could never have foreseen.
This magnificent creature - this angel from heaven – led me by the hand and showed me what love is for the first time in my life. She showed me that true love is unconditional. Love is selfless. Love is trusting and carefree. True love is relentless and only creates more love, without expectation of return. For you see, knowing full well that she had nothing to gain, this girl obliged my request. Even when I myself didn’t trust the words that came out of my mouth, she had faith and believed in my fight, and she sent me off to battle in style. And my God how could I not love her in return! But as this euphoria washed over me, I began to realize the gravity of my quest. Once again my curiosity getting the better of me I’ve searched for my soulmate and found her, here in the hands of others. And I am helpless to act because to love her and even to consider pursuing it would be thus to betray the trust she just gave me. So I conclude then and there that the only way to return this love is by adopting her very essence of life; and to give love to others as unconditionally as she gave it to me. The struggle is real. Each day afterward as the perfume smell on my sweater fades away I try ever harder to remind myself of what I must love and why.
I will be good. Because if anything she believed in me.
