1- My life story

Summery : A human, born in France and in the body of a woman, has been living in the UK for 13 years, experiencing life in many ways, including many aspects of the sex industry.

Overview of the character and personality
Difficult aspects of the personality: shy, introverted, highly and overly sensitive. Grew-up with a very low self-esteem, non-existent self-worth and thinking 'she' was rather ugly and awkward. Swayed, unable to tell others what is going on within, in their face or at all; always eager to please others and difficulty in saying no; highly self-critical, demanding and perfectionist. Frightened of women and their judgement or jealousy. Easily affected and hurt by anyone, preferred to sulk rather than confront the problem with another , takes things personally and cannot let go easily of unresolved matter (if at all).

Enjoyable aspects of the personality: Willing to try different things; exhibitionist, highly sensitive, very analytical and keeps on searching for answers; very curious; a high sense of 'faithfulness' in relationships; kind nature, generous, eager to please others; a worker to the best of her ability; always seeking for men's attention (since she can't get women's). Joyful. Intuitive (so say the Zodiac charts). Creative and resourceful. Enjoys making her own of everything, including paintings, music, sewing, drawing, photography, cooking, crafts, gardening, etc. Loves dance, particularly when she can be a stranger among an audience of strangers and be who she wants, be non-existent though be watched by others.

The beginnings, or how I ended up staying in the UK:

I came to England as an au-pair when I was 18. Quite soon after I arrived, I started feeling uncomfortable around the family I was with. They were a"New rich" English family who played Golf, and both worked. They had 2 young children. They seemed very dysfunctional, coldly dismantled..
I will always remember the mother having a rattling go at me one day, when I had told her 9 year old daughter that I was thinking of earning some money by giving French lessons. The daughter, of course, had repeated that to her mother. The mother had come to me fuming, saying "Do you know what French Lessons mean!!!Don't ever say that to my daughter!" She seemed to imply it meant some sort of dirty sexual activity or something very disrespectful? To this day, I still don't know what "French lessons" meant to her? To me, it meant, because I was French, that I could teach non-French speakers this language, that I excelled at, at college, as I had studied literature.(needless to say that I didn't enjoy those studies at the time! I only chose litterature because I wasn't good enough at science or maths. But now, after 13 years spent in England, I would not be capable of being a French teacher as my French sounds rather English!!!)

I also got very embarrassed at the mother telling me how much she disliked her sister, how tedious she was, how tiring and how she couldn't wait for her to go back home; that same day, the sister arrived to show the family her photos from her trip to Egypt; the mother was so untrue to what she had previously told me about her sister; she welcomed her with open arms, a huge grin, saying “Darling, how lovelyyyyy to see youuuu!!!” and her high pitch voice that many English women use to project a somewhat (fake sounding) joy.
What I found hard to accept was the lack of respect she showed her sister, in front of me, who was a stranger to her, and then acting as if she loved her sister, when she obviously didn't.
From that day, I decided I didn't want to drag around them for too long, or I may end up as hypocritical as they were, and I had enough troubles in myself to be honest, without needing to absorb anyone else's mental patterns!

About a month and a half after I arrived, I left the au-pair family, not without various threats and accusations coming from the mother:"You will not even survive out there! The world is a terrible and nasty place! How selfish you are! Do you know how much you cost me? How much I had to pay to get you over here!" Yes. I know, you just told me, I cost you a couple of hundred pounds and food. But didn't I do your kitchen cleaning and ironing and walk your horrible little embryos who keep mocking me, to school?
I felt slightly guilty as she went on about it all, to try and convince me to stay.
A no is a no, so now, could I go, please? I asked. “Go, and never come back!” she said.
Her husband never said a thing in all this, he stayed out of it, cold and British, hiding his feelings... I was to learn there are many people like him around, in the male gender.
It was a scary step out for me; so far, I had been in a protected family circle, and moved out to go into another family circle. But now, I had to face real life...

Thanks to some friends I had made in the local town, I was able to rent a room and somehow managed to find a job; me who had never worked in my life and had no diploma of any kind, having just left rural France after passing my Baccalaureat.... What a challenge, particularly as I could hardly speak English even after 7 years of English specialisation at school!! (I am not that gifted with languages, as many of you have said to me about their school French!)
People had trouble understanding me and I could hardly understand them!
I was also quite scared there would be no work available for me, but fortunately, there was. I managed to avoid working in a dodgy Indian restaurant in Bagshot where they were going to do me a favour and where I would be paid £2 an hour as I had no experience. It felt rather threatening; I had a really bad feeling about the place. Thanks to the job centre in Camberley, I found decently paid work in a good restaurant over the Christmas period..

Like many teenagers, I was very unsettled in my teens. Now, 18 and in England on my own, this feeling got worse. I had this romantic idea that life was about making friends and being all together, but my new life created itself otherwise.
It created itself as a life of loneliness. Moving house every few weeks or few months, not managing to ground myself; going from job to job, trying to be liked and to be the best I could, but either finding (silent or imagined) conflict with the work mates or feeling unaccepted and separated, alienated and unsuitable. I continuously had to move on.
I calculated roughly that I moved in and out of homes about 17 times in my first 8 years, and in that I didn't count short stays which didn't work, but did count a squatt I lived in, in London, for a few months. My family in France knew that well and had a special page at the letter X in the address book as they couldn't fit me in the family letter any more, since I was changing address so often!

I am sure it was partly my fault and life was not just dismantled outside of me; I had never really been one for social contact, other than the one-to-one contact which felt slightly safer than groups, though I would usually end up falling out with the other person, often permanently.

I worked in many places; my first job was waitressing in that really nice family owned, Hungarian restaurant. At first, I worked mainly in restaurants and bars, as I got more and more experience in it; I then moved on to fast food chains, hotels, doing silver service in the army barracks, for Ascot races, for weddings and special events, and if that work was scarce, I would look into anything.
'Anything' went from door to door canvassing for gas companies or clutter selling through letter boxes, to cold-calling, phone harassment for window sellers, working for the Post office, working in various warehouses and even doing line work in a couple of factories... I also worked in clothes shops and food shops, juice bars, take-away deliveries driver, night clubs, more pubs, and once, worked in a retirement home, making a birthday cake for someone who died just as it was being made.
I did so many jobs in my first 3 years that I can't even remember them all.

1-Beginnings
2-Portsmouth and Cardiff
3-Start of the modelling
4-A dream that strips away
5-Beginning of the spiritual search
6-Good bye Cardiff, hello London dream
7-The scariest step in the sex industry:
8-More modelling cases and stories
9-Monsieur Christian
10- Amsterdam Big Brother style
11-Experiences in sado-masochism
12-Pornography (the real thing!)
13- My internet 'porno' site
14-How did I ever get into this?