So let’s talk for a minute about the double life I have to live. The lies that I have to tell, the pain I feel in having a horrible show I can’t vent to anyone about, and the longing I have in needing to excitedly tell someone about the amazing shows I have. Because the thing about camming is that it is incredibly up and down- just like gambling. It’s why the whole thing is so addicting.
But anyway, the lies. So basically, in the beginning, I wanted to tell everyone. But a friend quickly told me that hey, maybe I shouldn’t go around telling everyone what I do, considering there is a gigantic stigma around the whole thing. It was all because of the stigma that I began lying. I couldn’t care less that I was spreading my pussy lips for a camera. But the real world, well they do care. They really, really do. And I think I was naive to that whole thing. Maybe the Jezebel in me truly believed that people would embrace us, that in 2020, women could take off their clothes and be sexual and free, and build a business using their sexuality, since it was all legal and consensual. But no, things are not that way. And I think we have a long time until it happens.
So when I understood that, I realized that I had to lie. It started when I first told my best friend from elementary school that I cammed. She lives in a different state, so we did a video chat. I said it so nonchalantly. Kind of like, “oh by the way, I picked up a new job. Yeah, it’s camming”. She understood pretty quickly that it involved me being in a live video stream doing sexual stuff. But then she started digging- do you get naked? Yes. Do you do sexual things? Yes? Do you masturabte? Yes. I mean, I guess it was pretty shocking. Her innocent little friend from all those years (well, not so innocent, we were both sneaking out at the age of 15 to meet up with 22 year old boys and give them blowjobs) was rubbing oil on her boobs for money in front of a 1,000 masturbating guys.
She started crying. She told me that there are disgusting guys probably watching me. Because I was so disconnected from that part of it at the time, I blew that part off. I said, “yeah I know, but it’s so much fun I’m really enjoying myself”. I think she was in shock. She told me that I’m better than this. I disagreed with her. I told her that I’m choosing this, that it makes me feel good, that I love the money I make, and the freedom I have. She couldn’t see it. I get her, I really do. It was probably hard to hear. And any type of sex work, as I’ve said, has such a stigma, it’s just too hard for most of us to see past it. We left the conversation with her saying she needs time to think. I don’t think we spoke for nearly a month. Our relationship was never the same. To this day, she still judges me for my choice, and won’t accept me as a friend. This was a friend for over 20 years.
So yeah, as you can see, I had to start lying. So I did. I didn’t tell my sister, who I’m incredibly close with, for a year or so into camming. When I told her, she was also shocked and cried. She really struggled with how she felt about it. I’m her big sister, she looks up to me, and as a women’s gender studies major, one half of her was on board with supporting my choice to become a sex worker, despite all the judgement I’d receive, and on the other hand, she didn’t want me to be in pain and to hurt my family. At the time, I told her that I didn’t think Mom and Dad would be upset, to which she replied, “you’re delusional”. Okay, she was probably right.
So then comes Mom and Dad. Conventional, traditional, married for 1,000 years without even having any divorced friends Mom and Dad. Dad’s a dentist, Mom a teacher. Their excitement is a trip upstate for the weekend. I get it. Neither of them are very adventurous. I’m pretty sure my Dad was my Mom’s first everything. Very vanilla, very typical Jewish parents (well Mom was pretty shit to me growing up, but that’s for another post). Although… in high school I did find a vibrator under their bed and saw on the PayPerView that Dad downloaded some gay porn… so maybe not so vanilla afterall. But either way, parents that would be heart-broken to say the least that their perfect oldest daughter is getting tipped to cover her ass in baby oil.
So it goes like this- Mom or Dad call me while I’m ass spread in front of a camera in front of a bunch of horny guys, and I ignore the call. Sometimes I even make a joke to the users like “should I answer? It’s my Dad.” This sends them into a tizzy- they get excited, demanding “answer! answer!” Some are a little more sensitive, probably being Dads themself, and tell me not to. Either way, I wait till after a show, after I’ve orgasmed a bajillion times, after I was on my feet and my hands and my knees and sometimes literally on my head (I do yoga, so) for 5-6 hours, and I call them back. At first, it was weird lying. But then, since I’m so split off from the camming life, I go from Jezebel into Danny in a split second and tell them that I was teaching English, or I was with a friend. I believe my lies almost, they’re such a part of me. I don’t think they ever suspect a thing.
So I guess the lying was what first propelled me from building this sort of double persona- Jezebel vs. Danny. It’s not just family, it’s also people I meet who ask me what I do. I tell them I teach English. If they visit my beautiful, definitely expensive apartment, they look at me in shock… how can an English teacher afford this? I tell them business is good. I meet guys for dates, tell them I’m a teacher. When they dig deeper, I tell them generic stories from class, knowing deep down that most of my days are spent naked on my couch surrounded by sex toys. I audition sometimes, with a fear in my belly that someone will recognize me. I’m living in a perpetual state of anxiety.
But hey, I make money, right? And when I cam, I really like it. There are definitely issues that arise during shows- guys say pretty disgusting things to me, I was harassed by a dude who owed me a ton of money, I do private shows with people that made me cringe when I thought about actually sleeping with them. It is definitely a problem, but I bury those painful points so deep within me, I don’t even realize they are even there. But it makes me wonder now- what is the cost of all this? Is the cost worth it? Still, I’m not sure. What do you think? See you tomorrow.
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