Thursday, February 2, 2012
Whoops!
Sorry, folks. Please bare with me while I try to figure out how to customize my blog and work the kinks out. Thank you!
My name is Elizabeth, I'm 28, and this is my blog about being a stripper. You may be thinking this blog will be all about dressing room drama, drunken stripper mischief, and bitching about bad tippers. Well, there maybe some of that, but mostly the reason I decided to this blog is simple. My 6 years working as a dancer traumatized me and I am hoping that telling my stories will help me to cope in some way.
Im not here to pass judgment on the sex industry or anyone who works in it. Though I am not currently working there's a strong possibilty that I may return to the granite in the future(I generally work at Larry Flynt clubs which have granite stages). However, I can say with 100% certainty that I was traumatized by the industry, the customers, the drug and alcohol abuse. It's ok, put the box of kleenex away and tell the string quartet to pack it up, I'm not playing victim here. I'm just stating a fact.
When I first decided to become a dancer I was 23. It was something I wanted to do. I was a huge dork in highschool and I had fantasized for years about what it would be like to be that seductive, sex pot who could get men to empty there wallets for me. I also have the soul of a gypsy and the idea of being able to roll into any city I wanted and work really appealed to me. I love a good adventure and am never happier than when I'm at a Greyhound bus station waiting to be taken far, far away from the small Gulf Coast town where I grew up, which I hate more than giving a lap dance to a sweat pant clad patron. I also was a notorious flake and had burned quite a few bridges with employment which in a small town is not good. I say flake, but the real reason I have ALWAYS had trouble holding down a job is because I have suffered from extreme anxiety, panic attacks, and bouts of depression since I was a teenager. Hmmm, strange. Someone who suffers from anxiety but yet can get up and show her tits on stage?? But you have to remember, Elizabeth is the one with anxiety. Pandora can do whatever she damn well pleases.
I remember my first night dancing. It was at a club located in one to the more popular vactation spots on the panhandle of Florida. It's an average looking club and a good place to start out. I was very scared and I sat there for like two hours before ever attempting my first stage set. Finally, the DJ gave me a half assed pep talk in an effort to get my confidence up, but I think he was really trying to say, "get your ass on the stage or get the hell out of my club." So I got my ass on the stage.
It was obvious to the more seasoned dancers that I was as green as the pot they were about to roll up and smoke in the dressing room so I was subjected to listening to thier motherly advice. "You'll never feel the same way about men again," or "you'll never be able to have a normal relationship again." Of course, me being the type of girl who has to touch the fire to know it's hot I didn't listen to any of it. I truly thought that I was just different and that there was nothing about my experience in the industry that could change me in any way. Ha...ha ha.
Six years later I'm waking up in the middle of the night with cold sweats and flashbacks. It's true my issues go far deeper than the fact that I was a dancer, but I'll get to that in a later blog. I do know, however, that there is a lot wrong with me that would not be had it not been for the dancing.
I said earlier I might do it again. Why, you might ask, would I want to go and do a thing like that if it's caused me so much pain? Yet another one of the pitfalls of the sex industry is it is extremely addictive. It's what I know. It's how I have made a living for years. It's also got to do with the fact that I got fired from my job right after Christmas for being hungover which is, by the way, the most absurd thing I have ever heard of. It's a freakin restaurant...people with shitty jobs drink!!
Anyway, that's my story for now. Hope you found it interesting and/or informative. More to come!!
Im not here to pass judgment on the sex industry or anyone who works in it. Though I am not currently working there's a strong possibilty that I may return to the granite in the future(I generally work at Larry Flynt clubs which have granite stages). However, I can say with 100% certainty that I was traumatized by the industry, the customers, the drug and alcohol abuse. It's ok, put the box of kleenex away and tell the string quartet to pack it up, I'm not playing victim here. I'm just stating a fact.
When I first decided to become a dancer I was 23. It was something I wanted to do. I was a huge dork in highschool and I had fantasized for years about what it would be like to be that seductive, sex pot who could get men to empty there wallets for me. I also have the soul of a gypsy and the idea of being able to roll into any city I wanted and work really appealed to me. I love a good adventure and am never happier than when I'm at a Greyhound bus station waiting to be taken far, far away from the small Gulf Coast town where I grew up, which I hate more than giving a lap dance to a sweat pant clad patron. I also was a notorious flake and had burned quite a few bridges with employment which in a small town is not good. I say flake, but the real reason I have ALWAYS had trouble holding down a job is because I have suffered from extreme anxiety, panic attacks, and bouts of depression since I was a teenager. Hmmm, strange. Someone who suffers from anxiety but yet can get up and show her tits on stage?? But you have to remember, Elizabeth is the one with anxiety. Pandora can do whatever she damn well pleases.
I remember my first night dancing. It was at a club located in one to the more popular vactation spots on the panhandle of Florida. It's an average looking club and a good place to start out. I was very scared and I sat there for like two hours before ever attempting my first stage set. Finally, the DJ gave me a half assed pep talk in an effort to get my confidence up, but I think he was really trying to say, "get your ass on the stage or get the hell out of my club." So I got my ass on the stage.
It was obvious to the more seasoned dancers that I was as green as the pot they were about to roll up and smoke in the dressing room so I was subjected to listening to thier motherly advice. "You'll never feel the same way about men again," or "you'll never be able to have a normal relationship again." Of course, me being the type of girl who has to touch the fire to know it's hot I didn't listen to any of it. I truly thought that I was just different and that there was nothing about my experience in the industry that could change me in any way. Ha...ha ha.
Six years later I'm waking up in the middle of the night with cold sweats and flashbacks. It's true my issues go far deeper than the fact that I was a dancer, but I'll get to that in a later blog. I do know, however, that there is a lot wrong with me that would not be had it not been for the dancing.
I said earlier I might do it again. Why, you might ask, would I want to go and do a thing like that if it's caused me so much pain? Yet another one of the pitfalls of the sex industry is it is extremely addictive. It's what I know. It's how I have made a living for years. It's also got to do with the fact that I got fired from my job right after Christmas for being hungover which is, by the way, the most absurd thing I have ever heard of. It's a freakin restaurant...people with shitty jobs drink!!
Anyway, that's my story for now. Hope you found it interesting and/or informative. More to come!!
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