Mother of the Year

It's a very odd situation to be in really, mine I mean. Recent events have conspired to ensure that I am 95% "out", at least in my local area, but that's OK. Had I been asked how I felt about being "out" four years ago, the likelihood is you would have found me in a crumpled heap in a corner, but that's because at the time there was a very large element of a very small community determined to make sure I was "out" to all and sundry and further, to make sure that the full brunt of all that entailed in a small town was brought to bear on both myself and my daughter. How times have changed.

These days I view it as a very strong position to be in because I believe that if it's not a secret, then it can't hurt you. So my neighbours, my family and all my good friends know too, that I am a chubbier and probably narkier version of Belle. Their support and their acceptance mean a great deal to me actually, not that I'm so insecure that I would seek their support but when it comes to protecting my daughter then I will take any help that is on offer.

When we initially moved to Ayrshire some time ago, La Princess befriended a couple of little girls and at first everything was splendid although I did have one or two inner "niggles". Two of the girls concerned began to literally live at my house at weekends, ostensibly because I was a "cool" Mum, in other words I let them bake cakes in the kitchen on a Sunday and didn't have a nervous breakdown if there was some flour left on the counter. Having (at that point) never met the parents of one of the little girls though, I began to have concerns when her parents said it was perfectly OK for her to spend the night at our house and she could come back the following day, um .... whenever.

Quite obviously, I'm not a child abductor or serial killer, but they didn't know that. Again, I'm not nominating myself as "Mother of the Year", but if my heiress to the throne wanted to stay out all night then damn sure I would be down to the house to meet the parents and make sure I knew who they were and what they were about. These "sleepovers" happened on several occasions before I actually met the parents and I'm sorry, but I found that odd. Following on from that came the Sundays. I literally became the "Pied Piper" of the locality and every time I sought to go out on a Sunday with La Princess, there were two little tag alongs, kicked out of the house for the afternoon with a fiver and a "make sure you say thank you".

None of that became an issue until it became known locally who I am. Suddenly, those little girls who were kicked out of their houses routinely because their parents needed "to rest" were no longer allowed to come to my house, or hang out with my daughter. I have to tell you, that hurt. It hurt me, because I had welcomed them in with open arms when they were clearly a "nuisance" at their own homes. Stepping aside from my own feelings though, it hurt La Princess, because she couldn't understand what she had done to create such a rift, and given that I had only begun to explain to her about the nature of my job then I really couldn't explain the actions of some severely hypocritical and bigoted parents.

The good news is, since then we moved again and are now surrounded by the most wonderful, loving and accepting people, who will stand by us and support us no matter what, a position which is very much reciprocated. The irony of it all is, we still bump into those girls and indeed their parents, and it's all I can do to stop myself bawling them out on sight, but that's not who I am and it's not the values I want to instil in La Princess either.

So instead, since they know who I am and I know they read my blog then I would like to say the following -

*clears throat*

Congratulations. Congratulations on teaching your daughters the very values I have gone out of my way to avoid as a Mother. Intolerance, bigotry, prejudice, and downright dogmatism.

Myself ? I'd rather continue to teach my daughter acceptance, assertion, self-worth and a belief that no matter who or what you come up against, let it never deter you.

LL xx

Lies, damned lies and statistics

If Thomas Gradgrind had his way, society as we know it would be immersed in facts and nothing else. In the current heated debates which are going on in the press, on the net and all around us, facts would appear to be an alien and unnecessary complication to an otherwise "worthwhile" fresh assertion from the abolitionists and anti's, hell bent on trying to stop the consensual exchange of sex for money.

If you really don't think a misrepresentation can be dangerous, let me give you an example. Say tomorrow I wrote a blog post and said -

"I've been having a think about my marketing techniques and I think I'm going to make some changes. From now on, every Friday in Glasgow I will be holding a bareback gang bang, £50 for a two hour session, up to ten guys max please".

Now, anyone who knows me (and my sense of humour, more to the point) would snort with laughter and email me with "ye daft bint". Unfortunately, there are 5 out of every 100 people who would read that blog post and believe it, THAT'S where the danger lies. So when I read such statements on Twitter as "Everyone knows that 14% of all prostitutes in the EU are trafficked", apart from almost making me choke on my jaffa cake, I realise there is work to be done here.

Let me qualify that last statement by saying that I am of course acutely aware that there are fantastic activists out there, fighting on all of our behalves to put the record straight and not just activists, journalists and academics too, witness this article by Nick Davies where he compares the moral panic around trafficking to that of weapons of mass destruction and further, this wonderful piece by Brooke Magnanti, on the more pertinent question of why Scotland should never outlaw the purchase of sex.

But therein lies my internal problem, why leave it to those who have taken the time to properly research and reference their work ? Sure, I can put together a compelling argument based on my years of experience, but it strikes me that when this debate is going to get as dirty as you could possibly imagine, then in the end, cold hard facts are what will win the war.

I could pour my efforts into undermining the "opposition" in their personal capacities but to me, far more can be accomplished by strengthening our own position, rather than hurling accusations at the "enemy". If they want to make themselves look like spiteful malicious bringers of the wrath of doom, so be it. The truth is that I have several academic clients who have been verbally scalding me for not following the blatantly obvious path of fact.

So, the proverbial worm has turned. Just when my pals will be sipping cocktails on the Costa Del Sol and enjoying surreptitious shags in the shade (I really need to get past this alliteration thing), yours truly will be on a lounger in my back garden with several kilos of cat thereon and academic reports to digest and best utilise.

Before I head off into the dark recesses of red bull and anti-socialism, I wanted to draw your attention to the fantastic new national ugly mugs scheme launched by the UKNSWP and with the hard work and dedication of Amy too, it's a credit to everyone involved and a huge step forward in the protection of sex workers.

‘Girl number twenty unable to define a horse!’ said Mr Gradgrind, for the general behoof of all the little pitchers. ‘Girl number twenty possessed of no facts, in reference to one of the commonest of animals!

Wish me luck.

LL xx