NL-Kiki D’aire is back in town and back in the biz. She blogs about why she left, and why she came back. Glad you ARE back Kiki.
I thought I found my “happily ever after”. That’s it, the whole reason that I turned my back on a career that I spent my early twenties building. I was raised on the Brothers Grimm, Prince Charming and Ozzy and Harriet with a bunch forties and fifties musicals thrown in.
When I found the man that was going to take me away from it all and take care of me, my inner child was ecstatic. The sad part is that the rebellious wild child that was drawn to porn because I got to give the establishment the finger and make a good living at it didn’t realize that ‘happily ever after’ isn’t all it is cracked up to be.
I thought that I could have it all the way that countless magazine articles in Cosmo say that modern women can. You know, be a wife, mother, career girl, superwoman. Silly me. After all, those articles aren’t written for women that chose to shed Judeo- Christian ideas about sex being somehow dirty and wrong. Those articles are written for women that went to college to shop for the right guy from the right background and now need to know how to be Betty Crocker, Mary Poppins and Bridgette Bardot all rolled into one perfectly manicured and coiffed body..
So I moved out of porn valley, took out my hair extensions and went to college. I downsized my boobs and wore very little makeup. I started wearing my glasses regularly, stopped dying my hair blonde and started dressing more like a soccer mom than a siren. I got up at 6 am to make breakfast, ran the house and became an expert at booking Disney world vacations.
I stopped talking to my porn friends and family in hopes of making the ‘right’ friends from the ‘right’ background to go with my man from the ‘right’ background. “Happily ever after” assured me over and over that he had no problems with my porn past when he wanted a complete whore in the bedroom, yet it was the first thing he threw in my face in an argument. It was as if the sex that I had before he met me, somehow made me damaged goods. The few friends I confided in might as well have posted my nom de porn on a billboard in the town square complete with insults. Once word got around, I could have been holier than Mother Theresa and it wouldn’t have mattered. It was like I was walking around with a big scarlet XXX pinned to my blouse.
That is what brought me back.
I missed making my own money, running my own business and being around people that are just as irreverent as I am. Try explaining to a civilian being hammered and chasing a guy that had annoyed you with a dildo butt naked around the parking lot of a Days Inn in Tampa with your buddies cheering you on. Trust me, it doesn’t compute.
Even better, try explaining porn being just a job to civilians. Sex and love are so connected to them that they can’t fathom separating the two, much less deal with the idea that you are more experienced than they are especially if you are a woman. Someone once told me a long time ago that once you take your first naked photo or shoot you first X video that you have just joined the adult mafia. You are in for life, you can leave but you never get out. They were right and that is just fine with me.