The sort of work I do requires me to keep certain secrets. The secrets I am forced to keep are not because I am afraid of judgement, but more because I am afraid of improper treatment. If you have found your way to this blog entry, you probably already know what I do. I am an adult web cam entertainer, and I also make and sell clip in kitty ears. A lot of people think I get paid to do sex toy reviews, but for the record: I do not. I receive toys in exchange for reviews. Therefore, I do not consider it part of my work.
I’ve spoken before about how my parents (well, my mother really. Dad has aphasia, and therefore can barely speak) know about what I do. That is true. My mother knows that I occasionally model and that I do web cam work. She also knows that I am making kitty ears. That is all well and good, but we never go into details. She does not know about this website, she has never seen my web cam profile page, and she has not seen the Mewtique. Why? Well, honestly, it would be a bit awkward showing my work to my mother. Yes, she’s been over to our place before, and we do have some nude modeling photos of me on our walls (Master loves them <3 ). I have never believed in the idea of going around my house and removing all of the items and pictures which make our house our home. If anyone family, friends, etc, want to come over they are welcome to. But we’re not going to be doing a mass-overhaul of our home. Not going to happen. There are not many pictures though, and my mother thinks they are just “art”. True, some of them are, but some of them are blatant porn. At any rate, the pictures up in the house are tame compared with some of the photos I have online. Truth be told, I still do not believe that your parents are people who need to know every detail of your sex life. And honestly? I am positive mine do not want to know the details. They know we are different, they know we are happy, and that’s pretty much where things end.
Sometimes it gets frustrating though. I do not do what I do for attention, but listening to my mother go on and on about how well my brother is doing in his life is annoying to me. Why can’t she be proud of my accomplishments? Why? Because I am different. Because I do not do the type of things she wants to talk about. The other day she was going on and on about how my brother has this “Amazing website” and how I should check it out. I decided to check it out, and it was his Myspace page. I’ve nothing against Myspace, but hearing my mother brag about a website which is not even owned by my brother made me want to say something like: “Hey! Have you seen MY website? It is self-hosted, and ranked within the top 200,000 websites for both the USA and Germany.” Or something like: “Hey! What about my kitty ears, which are selling much sooner than I thought they would, my Mewtique has been open less than a month! Have you seen my Imlive.com profile, where I am ranked as a veteran host?” Or many other things, which I also cannot say. I have to let my mother believe that Master is the one who works, and I make no money. I have to keep secrets. I have to be the “shame” of the family.
When it comes to going to doctor’s appointments, I have to keep quiet there, too. Goodness knows how people react when they find out you have a job in the adult industry. Oh, they’ll take your money alright, but they will look at you like you’ve got 9,000 heads the second they find out you’re getting undressed for the web. So what do I do? I tell them I do not work. They look at me as if to ask how I could afford to do that. “Oh,” I say “My husband makes enough money and I don’t need to work. I just keep the house clean.” Once I say that, they ask me why I’m not going back to school, or when I plan to, and how I shouldn’t rely on my husband for every little thing I need. I let this roll off my back though, because I know I DO work, I know that I am successful at what I do, and I know that I would never be happy in an office job. Not even a little. I am happy doing what I do, I just think that it sucks that in order to make my parents proud, I’ve got to have a job where I would be unhappy, make less money, and not look forward to work every day.
The worst part of going to a medical appointment is that I do work. I pay more taxes than most people I know, thanks to being an independent contractor. I have to pay about 40% of my money to the government each year. If my parents or family members do not want to be proud of me for doing well at what I do, I can understand that. Having to pretend at family gatherings or at the doctor’s office that I don’t work at all is frustrating to me though. Why can’t the adult industry as a whole be accepted and maybe even respected? Often, when I go home from these family gatherings where everyone is talking about how they recently accomplished this or that (while looking down on me the whole time) I am in a bit of a low mood. Master always cheers me up, but I can’t help thinking that he should never have to. Regardless of what I do, I should never be made to feel like I am not good enough for anyone. I should not be told that it is time for me to move on and do something “worthwhile”. I should not have to deal with people going on and on about how going to college will save me from this miserable life I lead.
My life is not miserable, I truly enjoy the “work” that I do. If you can call it work. I always wonder if it is okay to call something you truly love work. If there is one thing which I have learned from going to these gatherings in which I am looked down upon, it is not so much that these people want me to go to college to “better” myself. Their intentions are more from a place of jealousy, though they would never admit it. They are jealous that I have an job that I truly enjoy. They are jealous that I make my own happiness, and that I wake up every morning with a genuine enthusiasm for what I do. Some people are stuck doing what makes others happy so that they won’t have to deal with the down sides of what makes them happy. I would rather spend the rest of my life doing what makes me and Master happy, then to spend even a year doing what would make my family happy, but would make me miserable.
And honestly? If being an adult entertainer is wrong, I do NOT want to be right.