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Where to begin

We won’t start at the beginning because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from post modern film, it’s that the telling of a story can start almost anywhere as long as the rest of the story is unfolded carefully like reverse origami.

Maybe a year ago will be our jumping off point.

One year ago I found myself stuck, I have EDS and a slew of mental health issues which led me to feel like I couldn’t keep any job if my life depended on it, and I would be a full time dependent forever living off of my partner till the day I die. I’m also a creature of comfort who wasn’t built to last, I cope by giving myself indulgences both experience wise and material. So I toyed with the idea of stripping for money; if you’re reading I know this seems out of left field. I spoke to a friend in the industry who said I should get all of the “paper work” so to speak covered and that she would get me connected with the club she was at. This process was expected to take about 3 weeks in which *i expected* to chicken out. 24 hours later she called me while I was at a local event with some friends and said I could start the next day. Management called me within the hour and I was given the go ahead for a trial shift the following night, all they asked for was my name to be, we will call me Amber for the purpose of this story. I started the next day in what little lingerie I possessed and much to my surprise I was good at it. Not only did I do well but the job allowed me to be active and also get lots of rest, while working minimal days with the rest of the week to recover.

I learned as quickly as I could, trying to master the hustle. Grow a backbone but also be charming, move quickly but give enough time and attention to the men it mattered too, with my first nights worth of cash I bought an xpole the only home pole I could shove into my tiny basement apartment and I practiced every day. Within a month I could do a handful of fancy tricks and I’d watched enough girls to know what really drew positive attention.

I’d never had enough consistent money to pay a bill let alone buy a spur of the moment plane ticket if my heart desires. I felt like I finally cracked the code. That’s when my life really changed.

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Tumblr is dead haven’t you heard

I think that’s the perfect reason to make this my thought dump.

It’s not that everything I think is sad or that my story is entirely miserable but I guess I need a place to be dramatic and vent my deepest thoughts.

Everything has been a mess and there’s a part of me that hopes no one ever sees this, but if you do end up following along on my not so private telling of my private life, then I guess welcome to my diary.