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Diary of an Internet Whore, 2020-08-27 I know, I’m “suppose..
🕑 Added 2020-08-27 17:10:45 +0000 UTC Diary of an Internet Whore, 2020-08-27 I know, I’m “supposed” to get back right away to the part of the story with my sister, but this isn’t a story on a linear timeline. It’s all messed up, like my head and my emotions most of the time. I used to always pride myself on being a rational person that analyses everything and makes wise decisions, until I realized that I am mostly guided by my passions and fall into utter despair when I do not allow myself to be and feel. I think that’s where a lot of my self-doubt, shame, and guilt comes from. I always wanted to be some kind of savior for my family, to be the responsible one that does the right thing at the right time. As a kid, it was nice not to have too much discipline, as I was free to go about and do my things, ride my bike with my friends, come back late, eat at whatever times, play video games super late, dwelve on my somewhat unhealthy obsessions as much as I pleased. I’m not really sure why, but at a quite early age, this lack of accountability just felt wrong. Although I didn’t have the maturity to understand it, I kind of took it upon myself to become the responsible one. I was also the eldest son (feels weird to say that now that I’m a chick, but oh well, that’s what I was back then, at least physically) and our life was erratic at times and it was difficult for my parents to get by. I make it sound like it was bad, and sure there were lots of people around us who had an easier time financially, but we never lacked food or anything. I know we had it good compared to most other people on the planet so I can’t really complain. Where was I? The guilt, the shame, the responsibility. We had it rough for a while, and we also had bullies where we lived. I was always the smallest in class, smaller than the girls even, with long blonde curly hair, an easy target. We moved a lot, I went to 3 different elementary schools so making friends was always something to start over. Eventually, I was just hiding in the library, reading books. I learned a lot of things. I loved novels, but I was also deep into scientific books, reading about the secrets of the universe. I loved Isaac Asimov’s scientific writings, they fuelled my mind, and not only this, but all this reading gave me an edge on other students. If I couldn’t be popular, I could certainly be the smartest. I applied to a school for the gifted, has to pass some tests, and I got in. My family was proud of me. Everyone always thought of me as someone with brains who’s gonna make it using his (now her) brains. Years later, I graduated university with honours and grants. So that’s where I’m getting to. In the car, telling my sister that I am venturing into the unknown, into pornography. Coming out as a full-blown shemale some four years ago was already quite the shock to everyone around me. Nobody had a clue of why I had always been such an unhappy person despite always being successful at what I set myself to achieve. My problem was that I was successful at portraying this persona I had built, but I was totally failing at being myself. I thought that who I am, my inner feelings and passions were shameful perversions that should be repressed to the furthest recesses of my soul. I had to set the example and inspire and save everyone... but I lost myself along the way. Truth is, the only way to save others is to save yourself first. How could I have ever believe I could help my family become happy by preventing myself from being happy myself? I was so prejudiced against myself, I was doing more damage than helping. My first great lesson regarding this paradox was how all our relationships improved when I came out and started transitioning. There we were in the story: I had to come out again. If I started pulling away once more, we’d get back to the same vicious cycle. So I spilled the beans. I told her. I’m an Internet Whore, sister. I suck dick and get fucked on camera for a living. To my utter surprise, she didn’t have a knee-jerk reaction. When she learned about how I had been doing, how I had been living, she first asked me why? She asked me if I was safe, how things are going with my partner? Am I being made to do things I do not want to do? Am I comfortable with all this? She also said she was sorry, that she knows one of the reasons I wasn’t coming back to live at dad’s home was because we always get into fights her and I about stupid things. I was surprised to get an apology and told her I’m aware I’ve been struggling a lot in the past 15 years and I really wasn’t easy to live with. I was so filled up with anger, despair, depressive thoughts. I wasn’t a really pleasant and easy-to-get-along with person, so I can’t blame you for having reactions yourself, but you know that these past couple years I’ve had it even more difficult. I know you all thought that I’d suddenly become happy after coming out, but it’s a process, and I’ve worked really hard to try making it on my own and back lucks keep happening. My life fell apart three months ago, I lost all my jobs, my apartment, most of what I own, I moved in as a last resort with my then boyfriend, and things didn’t work out and I ended up on the streets, I really needed a break and a warm welcome home you know, to feel like I have a home. But it felt as if I don’t have a home. Like I’m a burden, like you didn’t want me there. I would have appreciated some support even if I am moody. Who wouldn’t be when they lose everything, their job, their home, their belongings, and their boyfriend, all in such a short timeframe? And I’m tired, tired of working so hard and hating every day of my life, striving to reach a goal that keeps slipping away from me. I told her that not all is bad. The more I think about it, the more I’m seeing the positive. If all my life hadn’t fallen apart like this, I would have never taken the gamble to do what I’m doing now. Truth is, I was slipping into unhappiness again, I wasn’t seeing anyone, I was always typing away behind the keyboard, translating reports, manuals, working and working and always feeling exhausted and not seeing friends and family and being bitter. I’ve been trapped behind a computer screen for 20 years. What good is it to become beautiful if nobody ever sees me, and worse even, if it prevents me from spending time with those I love? It defeats the purpose. So yes, sister, I am doing better. I realize that I’ve been asking too much of myself, too much of others, and not feeling enough gratitude. In only 3 years, I’ve been able to turn my life around to a 180. The lesson is that I was once again getting lost on the objective and not enjoying the journey and it was making me become bitter and resentful. To be honest, there is one thing I can do, one thing that I’m good at and that I enjoy very much, but it is another taboo, even moreso I think than being a trans. I want to be a pornstar. I know it seems weird and many people will judge me and say I’m wasting my life and brains away, but please hear me out. For the first time in years, when I wake up in the morning, I’m excited to start my day. I enjoy every part of it. I enjoy having a reason to stay fit, healthy, and pretty. I didn’t have sex for 12 years, and now I need it. I enjoy getting fucked senseless every day, discovering myself and my body and what makes me lose my mind into physical senses. I’m thrilled at the idea of meeting my idols at some near point in the future, and becoming one of them, being part of the club. I enjoy the interactions with my fans, their feedback, their stories, how they make me realize the importance of opening up to others, to friends, to family. I enjoy being genuine once again. - “You have fans?!,” she exclaimed, “what do you mean you have fans? Like, you’re becoming some kind of movie star but for sex? That’s fucking cool!” I was surprised that she took it so well. - “Well, I’m no star yet, but I have big plans, and I work very hard at it, every day, 12-14 hours a day. I’ve never worked so hard for so little money, but at least I’m having a great time doing it. I have to take it to the next level though. I have to go mainstream and reach out to actual porn productions and experience the real thing. I really want to, but it’s complicated...” - “What can possibly be complicated? Just do it! I’m excited for you. I hope you stay safe though.” - “Well, you know, when you love someone despite how they’ve hurt you... I kind of want to go back with my ex, but I feel stupid, but I just can’t bring myself to do it without telling him. I’d feel as if I were betraying him, in a sense.” She laughed, and added, “Now you know how I felt about my ex, and why I went back to him so many times before finally leave him for good. Remember how you told me I was stupid and should just drop him? We’ll now it’s your turn to feel that way! It’s weird how we’re all the same, you, mom and I. Welcome to the club of the dumb girls who go back to their ex.” She was right. I will have to have the talk with him, because I am stopping myself from going all-out. I do not want to wake up in 5-10 years, and ask myself “What would have been” when it is too late. The time is now. I’m still you-ng, I look even you-nger than I am, I’m hot, I’m naughty, I’m talented, I’m willing, and opportunities are starting to knock at the door. I have to give it a real shot and not let it slip away because it will not come back forever. I have to release this burning desire and show it all bare, my naked soul, allow myself to be what I am, whatever that is, however scary it feels, because that means discovering who I am, so I can one day feel at peace with myself and connect with others on a deep level. I have to save myself before I can save others and if that means I have to get down on my knees and suck dick like a champ, get banged hard on camera, be dirty, uncensored, then so be it. I have to let the vixen out, or her anger will consume me again.
