The sex trade left me in a state of such low self-worth that I believed I might end up in a mental health institution. In addition to an unstable upbringing this was a recipe for a disaster. But I fought back and I live to tell my story.
I begin this story with what my childhood was like, as I think that as sex trade survivors all of us had some kind of a hard challenge to face in regards to the physical, emotional, spiritual and sexual aspects of our young lives.
I was born in Papakura, South Auckland in June 1982. My mother was from America and was a nurse, she found it so different here. She married my father who was a Vietnam War Veteran and he was quite traumatised from war and on top of that the soldiers found it hard to integrate back into society because of the stigma they faced, as they were shouted and spat at from the public when they got back into the country.
Life started out reasonably okay, or it seems. Although they had good intentions my folks did not have the tools to invest in us emotionally or to help us to feel safe, they just thought they were doing what was right. My father was a daily drinker of ‘top shelf’ spirits and I will never forget him smelling like alcohol at night when he would say ‘Goodnight’, I did not realise he was drunk. He was a respected man of the community and at his job, he was a great provider too.
The violence in our home was never to be mentioned to anyone outside the home, as my sister and I were threatened with harsh consequences if we ever spoke about it.
I remember being terrified and wanting to protect my mother on so many occasions. So violence was on a regular basis. This was our normal life and domestic violence can happen to any family, no matter if you are wealthy or living in poverty.
We were a wealthy family, we used to go on family outings too but it did not wash away any of our troubles. Once when I was 8 years old I was hit so hard on the head I almost blacked out. I really loved my parents. This was normal and accepted so my mother, sister and I learned to adapt to the physical and emotional abuse, and I later found out that my father was also disappointed that he did not have sons.
I was sexually groomed at about the age of 6 to 8 years old, by a friend of the family.
This went on for about a couple of years every time we visited my Auntie. These occurrences never snowballed into anything more than grooming behaviour but I recall feeling like it was wrong, I felt nervous yet somehow special too around this grown man. He was in his thirties or forties at the time, and I guess he was like a substitute Uncle to me. I never told my family what happened due to fear of any repercussions.
I became a very troubled and angry teenager
I wanted to run away many times but did not know where to go. I started trying cannabis and other substances at age 13 and hung out with the troubled crowd at school. I was becoming very self destructive. In these young teen years I was targeted by boys older than me for their sexual pleasure on a few occasions.
I was also persuaded into losing my virginity at age 14 by a guy who was 21, as he also gave me alcohol that day. Back then that was classed as rape. Again I doubted myself to be able to speak out about it.
I never believed I was a pretty girl. I was tall and had ginger hair and I was bullied for having freckles. I was still a target for sexual abuse.
I became a young petty criminal in my mid teens. I just never got caught or the authorities used to brush it aside back then. It was small things, stealing items from stores or money from my parents. Then one time at age 17, a girlfriend and I took her Dad’s old car and drove to a popular public space used for rugby games and the like, and in daylight when no one was there we “ripped up” a patch of the field doing skids and donuts. We never got caught for this. My life was about adrenaline rushes and doing stupid things!
Thankfully in my late teen years at 19 years old I began to like myself more, settle down and thought about future study. I gave up the cannabis, but I still continued to drink alcohol on a regular basis, every weekend. At the age of 20 I told myself I needed a new future away from my controlling parents, I packed up and moved to Hamilton. I began my studies in Animal Care in 2003, hoping that would lead onto Vet Nursing if I passed the certificate. This was also the year that prostitution in Aotearoa New Zealand became decriminalised. The decision driven by the force known as New Zealand Prostitutes Collective.
Beginning “sex work”
My sex work journey begins with ‘an initiation’ into the industry led by my first husband who I met in mid 2003 at The Outback Inn in Hamilton.
He was living here on a work visa fresh from South Africa, he frequented the nightclubs looking for his next victim. The Hamilton nightclub culture is known for it’s very sexualised vibe, I believe it is a grooming ground for Uni and Tech students. Jo was 24 years old, handsome and very smooth talking. Little did I realise he was keen to be a pimp or at least sell his own wife to other men.
I ended up flying to South Africa with him to marry him there, he had manipulated me that easily to go with him to “see his family” but really the trip was about him exploiting me and also taking all my savings (thousands of NZ dollars) all for himself.
He introduced me to a strip club in Durban, South Africa and he coaxed me to work there where I danced only for five days before he then told me “this isn’t working”.
The minute I walked into that club it wasn’t so bad, I thought to myself “This could make me a lot of tips”. But by the end of the five days I was very shaken and damaged by the experience of being utterly exposed, humiliated in front of verbally abusive men. It frightened me but I was also scared of my abusive husband. I fell pregnant to my first child over there because my husband also controlled how I took my birth control pills.
After six months in South Africa I was very lucky to narrowly escape being sent to a detention centre for over-stayers. I cannot remember how I avoided that, but I do remember the whole experience of this trip left me absolutely shaken and no doubt traumatised.
Return to New Zealand, trauma and promises of ‘hell fire
Back in New Zealand my husband found a dairy farm job, he was very violent, in many ways including sexually. I was raped by him, but I was too tired and uncomfortable as I was pregnant. I had to do what he wanted or suffered repercussions. He used to cross-dress sometimes for odd sexual acts which I felt disgusted at, but I adapted to it for him, and the worst thing Is he used to invite other men around to come and look at me or inspect me in the lounge as if Jo had me on show ready to pimp me. I was not able to figure it all out at the time it was happening.
I ended up escaping in October 2004 when I was 22, and at the same time him threatening to give me ‘hell-fire’ if I left.
I made a statement to the police, applied for a protection order against his name and I ended up being a solo mother with my baby daughter, she was only 1 month old at that time. I lived in Auckland with my family for a few months but that did not work out well because of the dysfunctional pattern I was experiencing once again, hearing my father’s negative put downs. He even criticised me when I was having a period of psychosis due to the GP giving me higher doses of the pill Aropax, that I could not handle.
I could not believe that my own Dad was putting me down when I was on the ‘end of my tether’.
I slowly weaned off those pills and soon decided to move to Hamilton with my baby girl to stay with friends, which after a couple of months ended up dysfunctional too.
I looked for my own place to live on River Road, Hamilton and living in a two bedroom home, living off a Sole Parent government benefit was disheartening and I had no confidence now as it was stripped away already or any self-worth to seek out study or employment, but my income was meagre.
That is when I noticed an advertisement in the local paper, it was May 2005 and I was 22 years young.
“California Girls V.I.P Escorts need new girls!!
MAKE LOTS OF EXTRA CASH $$$. NO EXPERIENCE NEEDED”
How utterly inviting and exciting to see this as a young girl who is already feeling lonely, down on her luck and looking for a good job to fit in with mothering! So I called a friend to mind my daughter and I went into the V.I.P Escort establishment on Tristram Street in Hamilton.
As soon as I got in there it did not seem all that bad at first glance. It was a well run business, it looked well looked after as far I could tell. I do not remember exactly how everything played out, but I will tell you what I can absolutely recall.
I was accepted for the first interview with the receptionist, and I remember how easy it all was to get a job. I had initially thought that being an Escort meant that the majority of the time workers were allowed to refuse sexual acts, and we just had to accompany men while we went to dinner or lunches etc.
But more was revealed to me in the interview and she told me that it would involve sex. I filled out some paperwork, but still I imagined it being not that bad of a job, and when I was told how much I could make from a booking, I was in…high heels and all.
A pony on display
Each shift involved waiting in the lounge of the brothel, until we were called up to the front reception area for “line up”. That is when a John would request to visually inspect every prostitute that was on shift at the time. I felt like a show pony as we all walked past the John until he had seen every one of us. We then wait in the lounge to hear who got chosen. Other Johns who stayed at their residence would make a phone call to California Girls receptionist to ask who was on shift, and what age the girls were.
The most popular questions were “what age is the girl?” or “what dress size is the girl?” and they could request to have a girl driven out to their location. These were outcalls and we all really hated outcalls. It was always risky and nerve wrenching.
When I worked my first shift I was terribly nervous.
The receptionist let me know all the rules of the business first. So I had condoms and lube ready, I was in a lingerie outfit, sexy make-up all ready to work. The reception staff assured me that I would have a gentleman for the first time.
I know the first time, I had to go through to a room with a Maori or Pasifika male who was in his forties or fifties, and he was not a true gentleman. I wanted to maintain boundaries and have sex my way on that first booking but he did end up being domineering anyway.
I know that after that first man who booked me, It felt wrong and I felt dirty and violated – but not in a very shocking way. The change was subtle, much like my innocence had been damaged like when I was sexually groomed as a child. The first pay packet I got washed away the negative emotions temporarily, and I hoped for and wanted better experiences that would resemble making love with a hot attractive, lonely single male OR being able to avoid sex altogether and go on outings to dinners etc with me on their arm in some kind of romantic setting. Oh how sorely disappointed I was to become!
As an Independent contractor I worked almost every night for four months from 7pm to 5am then because of burn-out I managed to change it to a casual agreement, where I could work when I wanted to which was about every 3rd weekend. In mid 2006 I worked the day shift which was full time, for about a few months but again I burned out with exhaustion. I then went back to working casual sporadic weekend shifts until 2007.
Seeing the sex trade for what it is
I was being exposed to crazier, and riskier experiences as time went on. You start to really see the sex trade for what it is, inside those buildings. But we learn to adapt, we are hooked by the money that we can make in a single shift as that is what gets you through the rough times. I developed “thick skin” but I think I used my anti-depressant medication, alcohol or party pills to be able to cope with it all.
The manager was always harsh and intimidating to us, we had to always go through with a John once he had paid for us, there was no backing out. Outcalls were not optional either, once He paid then we his property for that booking.
Built-in corercion
Surviving on the tightrope
Breaking away
When I was 23 years old when my mother found out about what I did she told me
Would I return?
Now If someone asked me “Would I return to prostitution to feed my family?” My reply is this: ABSOLUTELY NOT.