It's Time To Come Out

November

     Went on a road trip, met a man who I’d only known in passing from one previous event. We fell in love, he asked me to marry him. I said yes. Crazy I know, but when it’s right, it’s right.

Skype Skype Skype

December
     He comes and stays with me for three weeks. He is totally cool with my job and is trying to find ways to get into the industry himself. He has tons of experience with sex positive living, tantra and just generally having a shame-free perspective around sexuality. The fact that this is how I make my money excites him, and he has tons of ideas as to how we could do it together, branch into web cam (I still don’t know how excited I am about that though… Jury is out), and a variety of other things.

January

     Together we return to his home town and for the first time, I have decided to live completely out of the closet. It’s a weird way to be, but soooo refreshing to not have to navigate the lies. His parents even know and they don’t care! My happiness, and their son’s happiness is what’s important to them. There were a few people who I told that had letchy questions for me. I respect that there are a lot of questions one might have when meeting an escort for the first time, but I don’t think it’s appropriate to open with what specific sexual acts I do. Actually, there was only one person who did that, and I simply excused myself from the conversation. No. Big. Deal. It’s a pretty awesome filter.

     Two days before I return home I had a dream that a friend outted me to my parents. It was a terrible dream. It got one of those, “I’m not angry, I’m just really disappointed in you.” kind of reaction from them, which as we all know is worse than anything. However the feeling of no longer having to lie to my parents was visceral. Later that day I received an text message saying, “Do you work at ... bar on the corner of x and y Street?” That has been my cover story since early 2012. And I did work there, but then I quit when school started up again. I just left that detail out. I did not respond to the text.

     Owen believes in living as your true and authentic self, and if someone can’t handle that, then they are not people that you want in your life. I think that that is a really beautiful way to live.

     I decided it was time to tell my family. I’ll start with my brother.

     “Hey Cam? Yeah. So I need to talk to you. I’ve been lying to our parents for the last two years, and I don’t want to any more. So I’m going to practice on you.”

     “Alright.”

     “I’m an escort.”

     “And you want to tell Mom and Dad this? Realme, are you nuts? You can’t do that?”

     He has a strong argument.

     “I don’t want to lie to them any more. Mom found out that I don’t work at the pub, so I’m going to have to come up with a whole new fake life, and I just can’t do it,” I tell him.

     “Well that’s too bad. If you tell Mom you’ll kill her.”

      Silence on my part.

      “Think of step 9.”

      My brother is 12 years sober; step 9 being: Make direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others. It’s also my personal philosophy that if someone in a relationship cheats, and it will never happen again, their need to confess is purely selfish, as it would only relieve you of guilt and cause great pain to the other person, and most likely destroy the relationship. Both of those theories apply here.

     “You’re right. I can’t tell Mom.”
     The reaction from my brother was not what I expected. I thought he would be cooler about it. He’s a pretty cool guy. I always saw him as a bit of a libertarian, perhaps not when it comes to his little sister maybe. Once we mutually concluded that I cannot tell my mother, and this was the bed which I had made for myself, he starts asking the usual questions. He was hoping by ‘escort’ I meant, I go on dates with people. He was not impressed, but I guess you could say he handled it well. No love lost. He said he would help me come up with a cover story and vouch for me. I was reluctant to pull him into my tangled web o’ lies.

     By the end of that ten hour drive I decide that I write porn for a living. My parents know I write. I travelled extensively in my early 20’s before blogs were all the rage they are now, and they received countless lengthy emails from me raving about my various (mis)adventures. This might be something I can pull off. It’s super vague, something they know nothing about, almost believable.

     Two days later we’re talking. I tell her. She is not impressed. At all. I don’t really remember how the conversation went exactly, but I do remember her asking me this:
     “Well are you proud of yourself?” The question was laden with judgment.

     “Are you proud of yourself? You’re an admin for a company that rapes our planet!” Low blow. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that. “Mom, I’m putting myself through school, I’m self employed. I’m working off my talent’s. I’m not hurting anyone. Yes. I’m proud of myself.”

February

     Things are great! With an exception of my immediate family, I am completely out of the closet. When people ask me what I do for a living I tell them. It feels really great. My Mom has gotten weird about things. She phoned my brother crying a few weeks back terrified that my life was becoming a train wreck. She has also become extraordinarily nice to me.  I was worried that my Grandmas birthday dinner last week was actually going to be a sextervention, so I forced Joon to come with me. It was not. Turns out the world does not revolve around me. Weird.