Born to Be A Prostitute

I was BORN to be a PROSTITUTE.



Now many of you will think that cannot be possible, but I am here to tell my story.  The story of a girl who knew she was going to be a hooker when she was 7 years old, and that was 7 years old in the seventies, we did not know much back then like we do now. I turned my first trick at age 16 and am still working after thirty-five years. This is my story of how I was born to be a prostitute.



I was born in June of 1965 in a small hospital in Detroit, Michigan.  My parents had been married just nine months prior to my birth.  My dad was a welder at the time and my mom stayed at home those first few years after my birth.



Somehow we ended up living in Long Beach, California and I have many fond memories of my life during those years.  My dad had gotten a welding job at the Naval Shipyard and my mother delivered mail for the United States Postal Service.



I remember flying kites, going to “the pike”, a carnival type place on the beach, going to the top of the hill and looking down on Los Angeles, and my dad taking sexy pics of my mother. Is this what started my path to prostitution?? Seeing my mother sexualized by my dad?!?!



For me to claim I have many detailed memories of those early years in Long Beach would make me a liar.  What I do remember, however, was that we had a great home, had family outings, and we all seemed happy there.



That is until my mother wrecked the USPS delivery truck and was put out of work and on narcotic pain killers.



This started a whole new world for my parents. My mother became addicted to pain killers and so did my father. They had many parties, and started hanging out with a rougher crowd.



There were a lot of Hell’s Angels around back then and my dad even had a chopper. My dad began selling drugs, for money or habit, I’m not sure, but they had both, money and a habit.



I actually took a bottle of his pills and passed them out to neighborhood kids, playing “doctor”. Someone’s parent called the police and when they found me and questioned me, I lied and said I found them down the road.



It was party time all the time for my parents and their friends, after all it was the late 60’s, early 70’s, a time of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. My dad told me til the day he died that had he known all his actions would have caused me to turn out the way he did, he would have done it all differently, I do not blame him for anything, my life has not been all that bad.



My dad was now disabled due to gran mal seizures, an epileptic disorder, that they didn’t know much about back then.so he wasn’t working anymore. He did take up photography and had his own little darkroom in our home, where he developed his own film and apparently did other things in there that I was too young to know about.



There were always beautiful, sexy women hanging around, even during the day, when my mother was at work, I loved looking at them and wanted to be like them.  Unfortunately, My mother caught him cheating and she beat the woman’s ass outside in the driveway, while I watched from the dining room window.  I don’t remember feeling anything about it.



Life was one big rock and roll, drug infested party for my parents and their friends, that is until one night, they were having a party, there were so many people there.  Pills were in piles on the kitchen table and everyone was having a good time.  My brother was, maybe 1 or 2 years old, sleeping in his room, and I was probably 5 or 6.  I kept going to the kitchen for water, of course, like any kid, I wanted to know what was going on out there.



That is when I seen my dad beating a guy up and throwing him out the back door.  The next thing I know, there were men raiding our house, I was scared.  These men were cops, my parents were being taken down.  They had everyone on the floor, and I heard one of them asking what to do with the kids.  I remember running over to this woman, named Joy, and grabbing onto her, begging them to not take her, cuz she was pregnant.  They actually listened to my pleas and left her to care for my little brother and me.



Three days later, my mother came home.  I didn’t see my father again for, maybe 2 or 3 years, he went to prison.  Years later, as an adult, my mother joked that she would have been home sooner had she not taken a handful of pills as the raid was going down.  Ha Ha Mom, real fucking funny.



So, as you can see, my early, formative years were built around sex, drugs, and rock and roll.  Where all these experiences a foundation of whom I was to become later in life?? Would the next 10 years of my life be any different or make a difference??  Part 2 will show you that I was Born to be a PROSTITUTE!!!! 



Please leave your comments and questions, as I would like your opinions and thoughts on this.  I will reply to you!*!*!*!



Thanks for reading and sharing, ~~Peace Out, Sassy~~