The Prostitute

She sells herself to "make her life better" or to "be in a safe place"or sometimes even just "to see what it's like."  She wants to be taken care of.  Wants to live on her own terms.  She says that it's only for a time.  That she will get out when she can.  That it can't steal her soul...that it's only her body.  She says that she gets to choose.  That she is in charge.  She gets hurt and blames herself.  She's tough.  She's pretty.  She gets up day after day living the life she never imagined when she was a child.  With heartbreak after heartbreak. With people looking at her with disdain.  She has a mind.  And a heart.  And a soul.  After awhile she needs to stay because other options have withered.  Family has fled or died or disowned her.  Her friends are all a part of this world.  Then her body begins to betray her.  Wrinkling, sagging, aging.  She hasn't held a job in years.  She is stuck.  She feels without options.  It's not just about the sex.  It's about the choice to give up who she was.  Who she might have been.  To accept a false value, even for what was supposed to be a small time.  It debilitates.  It crushes the spirit.  Only a strong woman can walk away and build a new life.  A free life.  A hopeful life.  A generous life.  A joyful life.  She can do it.  But it will take every ounce of courage and spirit that she has.  And when she spends it all....she will reap......real life. 
I told my husband a long time ago that I felt like a prostitute.  I wasn't exaggerating.  Now I know why.  Because it's not just about sex.  It's about the loss of self.  About having to give in order to be "taken care of".  The weight o the realizations this week have been heavy.  But, I can walk a new life.  I must walk a new life.  Or else I won't have really lived at all.   Funny that this would come on the heels of putting good, solid truth in my mind and heart.  Sometimes, truth hurts, but it hurts good.  Because it scrapes off the old.  Allows a place for the new.
I know that prostitute.  Not because I walk streets or because I wear stilettos and fishnet.....hahhahaha, that's a funny funny image.....but because I understand her heart.  And how she got stuck.  That while she was chasing her dream she took a wrong turn and got stuck in an alley that seems to be guarded by scary dogs.  They move aside....but only if she starts walking through them.  My heart weeps for her.  For her fear.  For her courage.  For how people misunderstand.  I understand her because I know what it is like to live a life that depends on performing for survival.  For "love".  For "peace".
grace to you.