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My Weekend Home

September 22, 2013

Hello everyone! How was your week?

Needless to say mine was a bit stressful. If you’re new to the party or missed Sunday’s post go check it out here.

Well I guess you actually don’t have to because I’m about to tell you.

A few weeks ago I told my aunt that I am a stripper. Why did I do this? I wanted one person in my adult family to know. I wanted to know what the reaction would be and I trusted my aunt. I figured in the far off world of someday my family would find out and I wanted one person on my side or one who at least knew and got to a point of being ok with it. I was ready to tell my Aunt.

Yeah I done fucked up there.

My aunt was shocked and dismayed. Now I expected this, my family has never had anything that brought them even kind of close to my world. My aunt and I began a conversation about it. I expected the conversation to take place over a long period of time. A continuing conversation that would grow and develop into reaching a mutual understanding.

Yeah… No.

My aunt came to visit me over the weekend. She met my boyfriend. (By the way- guy I was regularly fucking? We decided to try and date. That’s actually going really well.) We talked. We did fun things. She openly talked about some concerns she had about me dancing. She asked the boyfriend how he was ok with it. She asked questions about my safety about how and why I started dancing and didn’t just ask my parents for money. I thought we were getting to a good spot.

Well after she went back to my hometown- did I mention that the entire maternal side of my family lives with in fifteen miles of where I grew up? Nope? Well they do.

Either way, after she went home she went to my parents house. This isn’t an uncommon thing. My family is close and spends lots of time at our house. Apparently the whole story just burst out. There was crying and other not good stuff.

Several things came of all of this. My mom called me upset over the phone about 10 minutes before I had a study group of 6 people coming over. I was completely blindsided by this. Floored in fact. I answered the phone all excited. All “yay talk to my mom then study group then stay over at boyfriends.”

NOPE! Not what happened.

Do I sound selfish here? My parents had this huge bomb dropped on them, a bomb they have no idea how to handle and I’m all like “look what it did to me.”

Is that selfish?

My mom cried a lot. Not to me on the phone though. I was told this by my brother when he called to yell at me for letting them find out. In his words it crushed my mom. My dad actually drove up to where I live, a 4 hour drive, just to talk to me and drove back home after. My daddy cried. I’ve never made my daddy cry before. I don’t think I’ve ever made my mom cry before.

Why is this so hard for my family? What about it makes it so difficult? Why does the fact that I’m a stripper make them react so strongly?

My family is religious. I am no longer religious. I haven’t been religious since I was sixteen. I’ve said many times that religion is science we don’t understand yet. I believe there is some form of deity, I believe in ghosts. I even believe in some paranormal things. I just also believe the explanation for all of those is science we don’t understand yet. I think morals come from a persons life lessons and life experiences. I don’t think there is a man in the sky who makes laws and gets cranky when the people who never see him don’t follow them. I think all things have energy- good or bad- and focusing that energy is what makes things happen. I guess if I had to put a label on my beliefs I’ll label it Pagan. But I think a Christian prayer can be as effective as a Wiccan spell. To me its just energy moving in a direction and causing things to start happening.

My family believes differently. They are conservatively liberal. They don’t understand how a good girl from a good family can strip and still be a good girl from a good family. They’ve never even been close to my world. They cant even begin to grasp that I can take my cloths off for money and still retain my self-respect and dignity.

And I don’t know how to explain it to them.

They don’t think its worth the money no matter how much is there.

Which to be honest, is really damn good money. I’m hoping to pay off my current loans in 5 years. How awesome is that?

I don’t know how to explain to my parents that as good as the money is, its more than just the money. I like to dance. I like my job. Is it a job I want for the rest of my life? No. Do I want to keep it right now? Yes.

I just have no idea how to explain that to my parents and them being able to understand. They don’t have the tools to understand. I actually went to my parent’s house yesterday and am writing this post from the living room couch. We talked a lot yesterday. It was hard. They feel that they somehow fucked up in parenting, that when I tried to tell them things they didn’t listen or weren’t supportive and it led to all of this.

That isn’t true.

Yes there have been a few spots in my life they could have been more supportive but lets be honest that can be said for every parent in the world. That fact has nothing to do with how I became a dancer.

It was good though. We did talk about some things that needed to be talked about. I told them about my religious beliefs. They told me they didn’t care. My daddy cried again. He actually told me there were times he wished he could be more like me. That he is so proud of me and how I stand up for those who cant stand up for themselves and I do what’s right. He told me how hard it is for him to know that and see how I can still be that person while being a stripper.

And I get that. I get how hard that is for them. I really do. And I have no idea how to explain it to them. I did try. I tried to tell them that aside from the icky side that’s publically displayed and shown to them. That is very hard to explain though. Especially when the people you’re explaining to come to the table believing it is morally wrong. Plus they are my parents. I’m my daddy’s little girl. They don’t want to think about strange men staring at my mostly naked body and paying to do so.

I get all of that.

They actually want to go to family therapy. The three of us. I’m ok with that. They don’t want to “fix” me, they want to fix us. I think that could help them get to a better spot. Trust, communication and all. I did however, make one requirement. I have to see the therapist on my own before we go together. I refuse to go to anyone who is already biased against strippers. I don’t have time for that in my life and I wont make time for that.

So for now I’m going to play it by ear. Let my folks get to a better place and keep the lines of communication open. The hardest part for them is going to be realizing that I didn’t have a huge traumatic hurt in my life that drove me to this. I was just flat broke and decided to do something about it.


From → Who Knows What

  1. emeraldjewelsparkle permalink

    Hugs xoxo

  2. Maria permalink

    Love chica ❤

  3. rachel permalink

    Hi girl i know this happened kind of a while ago, but i just came across this awesome blog of yours reading through because you word everything so perfectly in explaining why you do what you do. I cant imagine how ur family feels, but i can totally relate in trying to find the right things to say
    and explain to THEM why you do it. I notice that i go home to bed without a worry in the world, curled up with my kiddo saying “made enough money tonighy for bills and some to take my daughter out this week”. I wish i could explain that to my family without anyone feeling like they went wrong with me. As far as i know, i got fkn smart. But yes i know, good luck tryin to make them see that. (((HUGS))))

    • It’s so good knowing that there are others who “GET IT” I get home and smile knowing I have enough for the week and a little extra to save. I still havent figured out how to explain to my parents how good that feels. They didn’t go wrong with me, I just made different choices than theirs.

      I agree we got smart and do what we do- others just can’t see that.

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