She is a follower of Christ, a woman created so perfectly by God with a heart, a mind, and a soul, just like you and me. God loves her as she is and always has loved her with his perfect, unfailing love. She used to live in the sex-industry, with her career as a stripper, lap dancer, and model for porn. Read her story and see what is true about the sex-industry, pornography, and her - a woman created by God for a purpose on this earth - just like you and me. This page is updated frequently so bookmark this page! Click here for the latest post!

Next Thursday, August 18th, 2005 posted at 9:32am Well, let's start from the very beginning... I grew up in an unusual home. Unusual for many reasons. The first and foremost being my father. My father has been diagnosed as Bipolar and Schizophrenic. He had tired to commit suicide at the age of 17 and that landed him in a mental hospital at a young age. He received shock treatments and large dosages of sedating drugs which made him (in his later years) very resistant to receiving any sort of treatment for his mental illnesses. As a result, my life was a roller-coaster from the time I was born. My mom was (and still is) a very submissive and passive woman. She has very low self-esteem and is and was an outwardly stunning lady. It's a weird mixture for a mom. Beautiful outwardly, and yet so timid and unsure of herself. She did whatever my father asked her to to the point of allowing herself and her two daughters (I have one sister) to be physically, sexually and emotionally abused by her mentally ill husband. My father, since I can remember, has always been promiscuous. While married to my mom (he recently divorced her about a year or two ago, in his late 60's) he was openly going to see prostitutes, viewing porn, and often had "girlfriends".. I grew up thinking that was the way all men were. That they couldn't control themselves sexually and if they had a sexual desire that they had to act upon it. My father carried out his sexual desires with me at a very young age. As far back as I can remember he would tell me how beautiful I was and how someday I would be very wealthy because of my looks and sexuality. He would always tell me this as he was abusing me sexually. I came to believe this was normal father-daughter behavior. He would tell me that this was the way that fathers showed love to their daughters, but people just didn't talk about it in public because it was a private family matter. My father and mother instilled a strong belief in me that a man was respected for what he did for a living and how wealthy he was and that a woman was respected for her outward appearance. Imagine having that in your brain at about 4 years old and starting kindergarten! I focused on my appearance from day one. Living in my household growing up was a living hell. As I got older I began to HATE my father and have absolutely no respect for my mother- she just allowed the abuse to go on and on. Living in that household we (my mother, sister and I) we had to walk on eggshells all the time for fear of upsetting my dad. We had to keep silent when he was in a "bad mood" as if he heard us speaking amongst ourselves he would assume we were talking about him behind his back (paranoid schizophrenic behavior) and fly into a rage. We had to follow very strange rules - such as when we could speak, when we could use the bathroom (for strange reasons), when and how we could eat, how we could dress...etc. It was a living hell. Fast forward to today - My father as I stated earlier left my mom about a year or two ago. He left her because she is now "old" in his eyes. He is currently living in Los Angeles with his newest mail order bride (yes, they really exist!) from Vietnam. He is still openly seeing prostitutes and says he choose a mail order bride (who is about 10 years younger than myself!) because she is submissive enough for him. Sickening, huh?

Prev | Next Friday, August 19th, 2005 posted at 9:04am I could go on about my childhood experiences with my mother and father, but I think by now you have a good idea as to what my home life was like growing up. As I got older I realized that I was very good at academics in school. I was getting straight A's on almost every report card and was put into GATE (gifted and talented education) classes. This angered my father. I am not totally sure why but it had something to do with him not agreeing with me on me spending so much time on school work and less time with him. So rather than being rewarded for my intelligence, I was punished. It was weird. In school I was encouraged and at home I was punished. I started serious dating at 14. There was a 19 year old college freshman that I had met at a swimming meet (he was a lifeguard at the meet) that asked me out. Think about it... a 14 year old female being asked out by a 19 year old male with his own car and own dorm room. Most parents would not allow this at all. But, you guessed it...my parents didn't mind and actually encouraged it. I remember feeling so grown-up as my "boyfriend" would come pick me up in his mustang while I was in the 9th grade! That relationship didn't last long however, but it lead me into the world of dating at a very young age. After my first boyfriend came the next and then the next etc. My junior and senior year of high school however was the first time I "fell in love". I was dating a guy that was a few years older than myself and he had been our high school quarterback and was very popular at my high school even though he was now in junior college. I truly gave myself to him- his name was Brad- heart and soul. We dated for two years and in my young mind I thought we would be together forever and thought for sure we would marry someday. To make a long story a bit shorter, I found out after two years of dating that he was also dating my best girlfriend behind my back! I remember being so hurt!!! ("Hell has no fury like a woman scorned!") I promised myself at the young age of 17 that I would never trust anyone again. Never!!!! That lead me into the world of dating with a new perspective-hurt the guy before he hurts you. So, I began dating two to three guys at a time and they all thought I was being "loyal" to them. I felt superior. I also moved out of my parent's house at 17 (I graduated high school early because I ended up skipping a grade in grammar school). So, as soon as I graduated, I went out and got 2 jobs and bought myself a car and found a place to rent with two other girls. I also was putting myself through junior college and dating multiple guys. I still wonder to this day where all my energy came from...but I would have to say that it came from a desire to never return to my parent's house EVER!!!!! I separated myself from my family (I would not tell them where I had moved to, where I was working or where I was going to school). I wanted to hurt them as much as they had hurt me. I lived this way for a few years until one day I met Brian at my college. He was different than the guys I was dating in the sense that he was so darn persistent in pursuing me. He would follow me to my classes, leave notes on my car, show up out of the blue with flowers for me, etc. even though I had turned down his offer to go out with him several times. I admit the first date I went on with him was to just get him to stop bugging me. I thought we would go out once and I would treat him badly and then he would go away. The opposite happened. It just made him pursue me more. The combination of my upbringing and his unrelenting pursuit finally lead me to dating him exclusively. He was a very good looking guy and was studying to be a pilot and seemed to be "successful" in all the ways that our world values success. He invited me to a Bible study that we had on campus that was lead by a Seventh-Day-Adventist professor. I did through that Bible study accept Christ into my heart when I was 19(although I did not at that point understand His grace). I was dating Brian exclusively now and was trying to live for the Lord, but in a very legalistic way. The one thing that was wrong with Brian was that he was addicted to porn. I however thought it was "normal" as that was what I was taught to believe growing up. I remember feeling not good enough (not pretty or sexy enough for him because of it) but I thought that was just the lot in life that women had. Brian was 6 years older than me and after about a year of dating, he proposed to me. I was shocked and confused. I was in no way ready for marriage, but because of my newly found legalistic views of God, I thought that I was obligated to marry him. We got married when I was 20 and he was 26. I was not in love with him, but I thought it was the right thing to do. The next four years of our marriage was painful. I tried my best to be "a Godly wife" - the Proverbs 31 woman. I stayed home (I quit college) while he worked. I followed the Seventh-Day-Adventist "rules" about women not wearing makeup or jewelry or pants, etc. (imagine how hard that was for me- I thought my appearance defined who I was). But I had a strong desire to please the Lord, so, I did what I thought I had to do. Brian continued viewing porn and got deeper and deeper into it. He started out by watching porn videos and looking at magazines and it escalated to him going to peep-shows and other places that I did not comprehend. We moved a lot during our marriage and I later found out that our constant moving was due to the affairs that Brian was having outside of our marriage that he hid from me. When he would "break-up" with someone, he wanted to move. I was miserable in our marriage. I could not understand his addiction. I could not understand how he could be so involved in church and so involved in porn at the same time. He treated me like china and we rarely had sex. He said that it was because he wanted to keep his wife "pure". I did not understand it, but followed in my mom's footsteps and put up with it. After four years of marriage Brian came home one day and told me he thought he had AIDS. I lost it!!! I tore into him like a lion tears into his prey. I told him that he had to go get tested immediately (I got tested too) and that we had to go to counseling or I would leave him. I threw things at him. I yelled, screamed and cried. I had four years of pent up anger and hostility that I had not expressed that all came out in one angry tirade. I scared myself. I put my fist through a window trying to make my point. I stood there with blood running down my hand and arm throwing things at him and screaming. He agreed to being tested and going to counseling!!!! We both agreed that the best place for us to go for counseling was to the pastor of our SDA church. The "counsel" that we received from that pastor is a story that I will have to continue another day as it launched me into a whole new world.....

Prev | Next Monday, August 22nd, 2005 posted at 9:03am Okay, I left off as I was about to go to counseling with my ex-husband. We went to our church pastor for marriage counseling. The pastor's name was Harold. Our first meeting with Harold was a bit uncomfortable. Here was Brian trying to tell Harold about his struggles with porn and the affairs he had had and that he feared he had contracted AIDS. It was during this first counseling session that I had two bombs dropped on me. The first one was Brian admitting that he had had several affairs in our 4 year marriage (at that point I was stupidly unaware) and then the biggest bomb of all- the majority of his affairs had been with men!!!! Ouch! I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach and I could not breathe. I was too shocked to cry, scream or do anything. I remember feeling my heart beating so fast and feeling dizzy. I seriously felt like I could not catch my breath! It was at that point that the Pastor, Harold, asked Brian to wait outside of the room we were "counseling" in and Harold tried to "comfort" me. I was shaking and in shock. Harold asked me if I had any family members or friends that I could stay with. I was serious when I replied no. I had no one that I could stay with or turn to. I had cut myself off from my family and because of our constant moving did not have any friends. I didn't even have a job and had not had one for the past 4 years. As all of this was running through my brain, Harold told me immediately that he was in desperate need of a secretary at the church and that he would hire me on the spot. He also told me that he had a friend that I could stay with while I decided whether or not I was going to divorce Brian. Harold told me that he suggested that I should as he thought Brian was too far gone to get back on track. Imagine trying to process all of this in your brain at about 24-25 years of age and the upbringing I had had. I felt like I was dying. I accepted both of Harold's offers - for a job and a place to stay. He called Brian back into the room and told him that he recommended a trial separation and that he had made arrangements for me. Brain didn't seem to flinch at the news which upset me even more. So, I went back to where Brian and I were living and took all of my clothes and threw them into the back of my car and went back to the church and Harold drove me to his friend's house who welcomed me with open arms and told me he had a spare bedroom in the back of his house that I could stay in rent free. So, I did. I did not want any belongings from Brian. Nothing. I did not want money, things or anything but my car and my clothes. I did not want anything around me that reminded me of him. I began working at the church and divorced Brian. Harold truly seemed to be a God send in my life. He was 20 years older than myself, married with 4 children, and had been pastoring for over 20 years. He had just begun to pastor the church we were at about 2 months earlier. He was very charismatic and charming. I looked at him as a father figure and had tremendous respect for him as a Pastor and as a father. He was providing all of the things I hadn't had in life...security (stable job, a place to live, unconditional love, someone to tell my troubles to and get encouraging advice, etc.) I told him all about my upbringing and he took me under his wing and said that I was part of his family now and that he would always be there for me like a father. He even began to give me gifts like a radio for my room, he had a second phone line installed in the house I was staying in so I could have my own private phone line, he bought me a phone, etc. I was deeply grateful and held him in the highest regard. What a wonderful, caring compassionate man! He even had me meet his wife and kids and I spent a good portion of time at their home and felt totally accepted by his family. I truly thought they would be my family from then on and that I was like the oldest daughter now. I would prepare family meals with his wife I, babysat their kids, and just hung out. I felt like I had finally come home. I had no idea that this man had a history of being a sexual predator. He had been moved from church to church after each report of sexual abuse but no other action was taken, nor was the new congregation warned. After several more "counseling sessions" and all that he had done for me he had my total trust. As I said before, he was twenty years older than me and not only did I look up to him as my pastor, but as a father figure. In hopes of finding healing I told him all about the abuse I had endured as a child and the fears I face about trusting another person. He took a keen interest in me that made me feel special. I really thought he cared and wanted to help me. His acts of kindness convinced me that I had found a father figure I could trust. As I was working for him at the church, he would often be out and about visiting church members while I manned the phones and people that came in to the church and prepared the bulletins, helped manage the finances, etc. One day he phoned, asking if I could meet him at a nearby restaurant to give me some paperwork that he needed me to work on. He said that his day was hectic and that could not make it to the church office to get the needed paperwork for that week's bulletin to me in time to print it up. Without suspecting a thing, I agreed. I got in my car and went to meet him. When he finally arrived at the restaurant (he showed up very late) he said he needed to visit a church member in the hospital. He asked, if it wasn?t too much trouble, if I would accompany him so we could talk as he drove as he said there were things he needed me to take notes on to put in the bulletin and that the day had just gotten away from him. It was now about 7 p.m at night. I thought it a bit odd, but I trusted him and thought he was being very kind to visit someone in hospital so late at night. We drove off. He eventually pulled into a hotel parking lot, saying he needed to get something from a family member of the person in hospital to take with us. He asked me to accompany him to the room, as he was worried about leaving me in the parking lot alone. I naively went with him. We got to the hotel room and to my surprise he had a key and opened the door. He went inside and I followed. Once inside he began kissing me. Shocked and terribly confused, I pushed him away and told him I didn?t understand. He said he was in love with me and had been waiting to tell me. He told me he thought I was the most beautiful woman he ever had seen and that he wanted to make love to me. I was stunned. I told him I could not do that as it was wrong and did not have the same feelings towards him. This seemed to make him angry and he became more forceful. Why I did not run out of the room I am not sure. Part of me felt immobilized. I felt obligated to stay and talk him down. After all I did not want to hurt his feelings! I kept physically fighting him off and telling him that though I respected him as my pastor and as a father figure I wanted him to stop. He pushed me and started raping me. The ugly event seemed to last forever. I mentally checked out. All I remember was that it hurt, that I was crying, and that he was calling me names and saying many derogatory things about me. As he was violating me there was a knock on the door. Apparently he had this whole thing planned and had invited others to join him. He let four strangers into the room, who all took their turn raping me. They raped me both anally and vaginally. After what seemed like forever I literally passed out. I remember the pastor shaking me hard. He then shoved down my throat ten or so Excedrin (a mixture of pain killer and caffeine) so that I would stay awake. I was only vaguely aware that my inability to escape when the assault began was a reaction to being programmed by abuse during my formative years. In my panic, the part of me that was used to being a victim, took over. Moreover, the transformation of this man from respected authority figure to monster was so sudden and I was in such shock that my mind had not had the time to process this completely unexpected side of him. So part of me still highly esteemed him and did not want to offend him. Not realizing the cause of my physical and emotional reaction to severe trauma, I concluded that I was evil and that God had given up on me. I gave up on God and on myself for years to come. I was so dead inside and so disgusted with myself that I committed what I now call Emotional Suicide. I was still alive physically, but I totally checked out emotionally and spiritually. ...to be continued

Prev | Next Wednesday, August 24th, 2005 posted at 9:31am Well, I left off telling you about the rape that Harold orchestrated and how that night I gave up on God and started to believe that I was evil as a result of my responses to such a horrible experience (I also believed that something I had done had instigated his feelings towards me). After "the rape" (I came to the knowledge that it was rape years later...at the time I believed it was not rape, but a man that I respected showing how much he loved and wanted me...I know this is sick, but it is what I believed at the time). I began to think Harold was in love with me. That night after the other men had left Harold spent hours holding me and "comforting" me and feeding me lies. He told me that he truly loved me and referred to his raping me as making love to me. He said he had invited his friends as he wanted to show me that he loved me so much that he wasn't even jealous of other men "making love" to me. He went on and on about how if you love someone that you allow them to be free in the sense that you should not be jealous of another person that shows their "love" to the person you "love". Harold also told me that night that if I ever "left him" he would find me and kill me and then kill himself because he would not be able to live without me. At that point in my life I had no other friends or family members and Harold was providing all of the things (job, place to stay, encouragement, etc.) that I thought I needed to survive. All in all, after months of him showing me kindness, my then belief that my having an orgasm showed that I somehow loved him back, and his "affection" towards me after the other men had left, combined with my upbringing, etc. I began to have what is called Stockholm Syndrome (I did not realize what I was experiencing at the time) The following is a definition of Stockholm Syndrome: Stockholm Syndrome "Bonding to one's captor (abuser) is a survival strategy for victims that have been observed in a variety of hostage-taking situations. This strategy was labeled Stockholm Syndrome after a hostage situation in a bank robbery in Stockholm, Sweden in 1973. Three (3) women and one (1) man were held hostage for six days by two (2) men. During this period, the four hostages and their captors bonded bi-directionally. The hostages even came to see their captors as protecting them from the police! Following the release of the hostages, one of the women became engaged to one of the captors, another of the hostages started a 'defense fund'. All this was done in the face of the fact that the hostages were bound with dynamite and generally mistreated! Such bonding to one's captor / abuser no longer considered unusual by professionals who negotiate with hostage-takers. In fact, they encourage its development, for it improves the chances for survival of the hostages, despite the fact that it means the officials can no longer count on the cooperation of the hostages in working for their own release or in later prosecuting captors. Bonding with an abuser maybe the universal survival strategy for victims of interpersonal abuse. Studies of other hostage-like groups seem to bare this out. -- These groups are: * Hostages * Concentration Camp prisoners * cult members * prisoners of war * civilians in Chinese Communist prisons * procured prostitutes * incest victims * physically and/or emotionally abused children * battered women Four Situation Factors that are Precursor to Stockholm Syndrome: 1. Perceived threat to one's physical or psychological survival and the belief that the captor would carry out the threat. 2. Perceived small kindness from the captor to the captive. (Note: letting the captive live is enough.) 3. Isolation from perspectives other than those of the captor. 4. Perceived inability to escape. Psychodynamics' Underlying Stockholm Syndrome An abuser traumatizes a victim (who does not believe they can escape, or truly can not) with a threat to the victim's survival. The traumatized victim, who perceives isolation from outsiders; who could provide nurturance and protection, must look to the abuser to meet those needs. If the abuser shows the victim some small kindness, the victim then must bond to the perceived positive side of the abuser, denying (or dissociating) the side of the abuser that produced the terror. The victim begins to work to see the world from the abuser's perspective so that they may know what keeps the abuser happy, thus helping to insure the victim's survival. As a result the victim becomes hyper vigilant to the abuser's needs and unaware of their own. The victim comes to see the world from the perspective of the abuser, losing touch with their own perspective, which is unimportant or even counter-productive to their survival. With the denial of the violent side of the abuser, comes denial of the danger. It becomes progressively harder to separate from the abuser due to the fear of losing the only positive relationship identity that remains -- her/ himself as seen through the abuser's eyes (which in the case of the adult victim has replaced any previous sense of self, for a child this may be, and often is, the only sense of self known). That night was the beginning of four miserable years with Harold. I began to believe that I loved him and that he was the only person in the world that truly loved me in return. He would want to have sex and I would not fight him. I began to see myself as Harold's true love and began to believe that he was only staying with his wife (Johanna) because of the kids (this is what he told me). I hung on tight to the only person (I thought) that really cared about me. I was so brainwashed at that point that when allegations were brought up about him sexually abusing another congregation member that I did not believe it and actually defended him in church counsel meetings!!! I could not believe that he would ever make sexual advances toward anyone else as he was in love with me (or so he said). During these counsel meetings with the church board (that I sat in on because I was the church secretary) they actually brought up many allegations made against him over the 20+ years that he had been a pastor in various churches. He told me that these were all made up lies in an attempt to kick him out of the SDA church as his views were "more progressive" than those of the church. These meetings ended in him leaving the SDA church and pastoring all together (before they could fire him) and he went into mortgage banking. In spite of all the warning signs I stayed with him and continued to believe he was my knight in shining armor and that as soon as his kids were grown that he would divorce Johanna and marry me. He even began taking me to a "Swingers Club" where couples go and swap partners sexually. He would pick me up from where I was staying in the late part of the night (around 11 pm or so) he said his family was fast asleep and would not notice that he was gone. We would go to this Swingers Club and we would stay until the early hours of the morning (we usually left around 4 a.m.). In this environment I was taught that swapping sexual partners was normal and actually a higher form of love than traditional monogamy. When he first took me there I remember being scared, repulsed, and shy. I could not believe that I was in a club where almost everyone was walking around naked and having sex with whomever. I could not believe that this place was even sanitary! However, with my new found belief that Harold was the only person that loved me and wanting to please him, I stuck around. I remember being incredibly self-conscious and shy! However most of the couples there were in their 40s - 50s and I was in my early to mid 20s. I began to get compliments from other men and women there that I was so beautiful and that I had such a beautiful body. I quickly became "the belle of the ball" at this club and this decreased my self consciousness. I was being told I was valued and beautiful by many people. Harold was reinforcing that my being desirable to others "turned him on" and in my mind at that time I wanted to be desirable to him. I began allowing others at that club to have sex with me. By that point I thought that since I had already had sex with 4 men I didn't even know and that made me more valued in Harold's eyes, then why not!? Harold was breaking down my morals and inhibitions one at a time.....

Prev | Next Thursday, August 25th, 2005 posted at 10:21am So, here I was in a new phase of my life that I never dreamed I would be in. I was committing adultery and openly allowing people to have sex with me. I had become as submissive to Harold as my mom was with my dad. I choose to ignore all of the horrific things that Harold was doing to me and choose to call it love instead! I truly believed that Harold loved me and that we had a special relationship that was much more "evolved" as he put it than traditional relationships. I thought I was so savvy and better than the rest of "normal" society as Harold had enlightened me to a whole new lifestyle. Keep in mind that Harold was very charismatic. He had a way with words and could make almost anyone believe his lies and do what he wanted. I found out that his wife knew all about our "relationship" and that she accepted it! I found out years later that all through the 15+ years of their "marriage" (they are still married to this day) that he had always had "special relationships" with many other women and that they all believed his lies and they all thought they were his "true love". How brainwashed was/is his wife to stay in a "marriage" where her husband was openly "in love with" other women and having sex with them!?!? To this day I do believe that Harold is/was a true messenger of Satan. He had/has powers to brainwash people into leading them away from God and into a life of sin without the person even realizing what is happening. He comes across as a very intelligent and enlightened man and can even twist scripture to fit his beliefs...and be convincing!!!! In His word God tells us as Christians to beware of people that infiltrate the church and act as believers only to lead Christians away from the Lord. I now know first hand what God is talking about!!!! There are and have been many "wolves in sheep's clothing" that have infiltrated the church and are very successful at leading unsuspecting Christians into a life of sin and destruction. Always remember that "evil" people do not always look and seem "evil" on the surface...that is how they can infiltrate Christianity. Believe me, if Harold had looked evil and did not have such a knowledge of God's Word that he twisted to fit his desires, I and many other women would not have fallen for his scheme! (Sound familiar? Remember in the Garden of Eden that Satan twisted God's words to convince Eve to eat the forbidden fruit...) Sometimes sin looks like it is good and right! Anyway, here I was in my new, evolved world. Harold found another job for me as he was no longer pastoring the church. He found me a job working as a secretary for the same mortgage company he worked for. Looking back I now see how he kept me isolated from other people. He would monitor whom I spoke to and when. If I started getting close to another female for friendship he would always cut me off and tell me that that person was not good for me to have in my life. He would always have some reason that seemed valid at the time. He bought me a cell phone and had the statement mailed to him to pay and thus he would see a print-out of my calls every month. Anytime there was a phone number on the bill that he didn't recognize he would call the number and tell that person not to have contact with me anymore then he would tell me why that person was not a good influence in my life. He rented a studio apartment for me and paid my rent. He had all of my bills (gas, water, utilities, credit cards, in his name) At the time I thought he was paying all of bills because he loved me and was providing for me. In reality he was making sure that he had total control over my life. He also showed me porn (movies, magazines, etc.) on a regular basis. He would comment on how he wanted me to do some of the things depicted in these movies and magazines and how he wanted me to look like the women in the magazines. He began to dictate how he wanted me to dress. He began to buy clothes and lingerie for me. At the time I viewed the clothes and lingerie as gifts. He commented often at the beginning of our "relationship" that he would like me to have a breast enlargement. As we continued to view porn together, I felt more and more insecure about my body. I began working out 6 days a week for 2 hours each day. I began going to a tanning booth on a regular basis, I began to go have my nails and hair done every two weeks. I am a natural blonde, but Harold had me bleach my hair platinum blonde... to look like many of the women in porn. Harold encouraged and paid for it all (he became very successful in the mortgage banking business VERY quickly and was making a lot of money). He finally convinced me to go to a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills that did a lot of breast augmentation for women in the porn industry. He wanted me to go to that specific surgeon as he was/is known for his work in the "sex industry". In other words, most plastic surgeons would not give women implants that were/are obviously too large for their frame for medical reasons....but this surgeon would do it. I never realized how much physical pain is involved in breast augmentation (at least in my case it was EXTREMELY painful!) I went in to have my augmentation done under the assumption that it was a simple and quick surgery that had a quick recovery time. Let me tell you...it wasn't! I was allergic to the anesthesia that they used (I had never had surgery before and didn't know I was allergic to anesthesia). When they were waking me up from surgery I threw up all over the anesthesiologist. I just kept vomiting. Then, as I was waking up the surgeon noticed a blood clot had formed which meant they had to knock me out again and "fix it". Needless to say when I woke up the second time I was vomiting constantly!!!! And the PAIN from the actual surgery was overwhelming!!!!!!!!!!!!! They sent me home with painkillers that I could not keep down because I kept throwing up....I was in serious pain!!!! It was horrible!!! It took me weeks to recover, not days like I was told. Because the implants were so large for my frame my skin and muscle tissue were stretched to their limits!!!! That made it even more painful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So, this was the beginning of the changing of my outward appearance to look like the women in porn to please Harold.....

Prev | Next Saturday, August 27th, 2005 posted at 4:30pm Okay, so I left off right after Harold had me get a breast augmentation. Keep in mind that dates, years and times are all still kind of hard for me to pinpoint as I truly believe that I was experiencing the dissociation of Stockholm Syndrome through these years. During times like these, our brains do not always remember exact dates, times and order of events correctly...I am doing the best I can. During this time of my life Harold was encouraging me to have sex with different people. He was always there to watch or participate. I began to believe the lies of that lifestyle. I began to believe that sex with multiple partners was a more "enlightened" way of life. I mainly had sex with all of those people to keep Harold "in love" with me. I was afraid he would leave me if I disagreed with him. I outwardly said I loved the lifestyle, but inwardly I hated it. I hated being touched by strangers. I hated the degradation of being treated like an object. I hated being forced physically in anyway...but I allowed it to continue. At the swingers club I made "friends" with a few of the women there that worked as escorts (call girls, prostitutes, etc....they are all the same, just different names). They began telling Harold and me how they made thousands of dollars every night they worked tax-free! Harold began to look into having me work for an escort agency in Southern, CA. He found one that he took me to for an interview. I was so nervous and really did not know what to expect. The owner of the agency told me at the interview that he hired models to escort men to functions, to do exotic dances for private shows and bachelor parties, etc. He asked me if I had a portfolio. A portfolio??? No, I didn't. He said he needed to see a portfolio of my pictures (nude of course) before he could hire me as his "standards for hiring" were very high and that he only hired select, beautiful women as his agency was known for it's quality of women that worked there. I really thought it was a modeling/entertainment agency!? How in the world I did not notice that it was a prostitution ring is beyond me!!!! Anyway, Harold took me to a private photographer to have my portfolio done. A good portion of my self-consciousness went away as the photographer praised me for my beauty. It was at a studio in Los Angeles that does a lot of "portfolios" for women in the sex industry, so there were other women in there that were models for men's magazines, exotic dancers, etc. By now, I was deep into the industry with out even realizing it. I received a few "modeling" contracts from men's magazines and was even working for Mattel (yes the toy company) doing conventions to promote Barbie products! Mattel dressed me up to look as much like Barbie as possible and I would go to conventions and walk around and smile. Behind the scenes the photographers, managers and production people picked who (I was not the only Barbie spokes model) would get the best jobs by who slept with them. Back to the whole escort/entertainment agency thing. As soon as the owner saw my portfolio I was hired on the spot. I was told I would need a driver -someone to drive me to what they called "shows". "Shows" are basically going to meet a man (or couple) at a hotel or in there home, etc. to "dance" for them. To make a long story short, you become a "call girl". You dictate how much you will do and for how much money you will do it for. A driver is a male that drives the girls/women to their calls and waits outside in the car (or somewhere out of the customer's sight). The driver and the "dancer" have a system where they use two way radios to communicate. The "dancer" puts her radio in her purse and it is wired to stay in the on position at all times. In other words, the driver outside can hear most of what is going on and if something takes a bad turn the driver is supposed to come and help you. One of the things I learned quickly was to never allow the "customer" to lock the front door (so the driver could run in if need be at any time). Well, of course Harold wanted to be my driver. For two reasons. One, so I would not bond with another human being that may have told me to get away from him and two, he wanted to make money off of me. So, Harold cut down his hours at the mortgage company and became my driver. We would work four nights a week. He actually had me giving him all of the money I made (which was anywhere from $500-$3,000+) a night. He said that he would help me budget things wisely and he continued to pay my rent, etc. He would allow me to have like $500 a week spending money which I spent mainly on tanning, clothes, hair, nails, etc. I did not realize that he had become my pimp and I was a prostitute. I really did not see that. I thought I was being paid for my looks (hah!) and the fact that I was now hearing many times a night from many men that I was beautiful, desirable, wonderful, etc. fed my ego. I sometimes think I did it more for the constant praise than the money. Constantly being told you are beautiful, etc. becomes like a high. I had already cut off all of my feelings about being sexually violated - I just dissociated. I got to spend four nights a week with Harold and I thought that was wonderful at the time as he constantly praised me and "showed me love". I did bachelor parties, private parties, one on one "shows?, etc. There is so much that went on in those years that it is difficult to put into words. Private shows ranged from meeting a drug addict in a hotel in the red-light district of Hollywood to famous sports figures, CEO's of companies, etc. hiring me for the night (if someone wanted to hire me for the whole night it was $5,000 up front, cash). Private shows also included "normal people" from all walks of life. Businessmen, college students, police officers, teachers, pastors, married couples, men from other countries here on business...you name it, I saw it. I never fully comprehended (until I was out of it) the dangers of what I was doing. I can honestly say that it is only by the grace of God that I am alive today and disease free! While you are in a really bad situation, it is hard to see the dangers...I could have been killed, beat (that only happened once), etc. There are so many things that could have gone bad. God certainly protected me. I got to the point where I had made such a name for myself in that industry and had so many "regular" clients that the agency set me up in a hotel in Newport Beach (so that I didn't have to drive around) and my "clients" came to me. To be continued...

Prev | Next Sunday, August 28th, 2005 posted at 9:28pm I must back up a little. Sometimes I get the order of events out of place, so bear with me. I left off telling you that I was now set up in my own hotel room having "clients" come to see me. I didn't really tell you why I ended up there. Harold's wife, Johanna, had become quite jealous of me. Not so much for the fact that Harold and I were openly having a "relationship", but more because of the attention I was getting for my looks, etc. At this point I had modeled for a few porn magazines, had worked for Mattel as "Barbie", had won several fitness competitions, and now I was making thousands of dollars every night as a escort. She had to hear all about the "famous" people I had met (not that any of them would remember me I'm sure) and she was getting really jealous. I was in my 20's and she was in her 40's. She began to work out and hired a personal trainer (I was still working out six days a week, 2 hours a day). She went in to have liposuction and a face lift (she already had had a breast augmentation). She grew her hair out long like mine and bleached it platinum blonde. She began tanning on a regular basis. She began to beg Harold to let her work for the same escort agency that I was working for. We were literally competing against each other. Harold agreed to let her work for the same agency. The problem was now Harold had two dancers and one driver. He did not trust either of us to have another driver (pimp). I was still under the impression that Harold didn't love Johanna and was just waiting for the kids to grow up to leave her and marry me. So when he told me that she was going to be working for the agency I was working for I lost it. I told him he had to make a decision between her and me. I told him that if he didn't leave her and marry me (thank God he didn't) that I would leave him. It was at that point in our "relationship" that he began to become even more physically aggressive. The night we argued about him marrying me or me leaving he choked me almost to death. He began telling me over and over that if I ever left him he would kill me. The next day he came to my place with a gun. He was screaming degrading names at me and repeatedly told me that I was nothing without him, that he had made me into whom I was and that I owed him everything, etc. He then opened a little velvet black box and gave me a ring. It looked like a wedding ring. He said that we were now married as he had bought himself a matching band (he was still legally married to Johanna) that he was wearing. He was now wearing two wedding bands. He pulled out his gun and put it to my head and made me kneel down and promise him that I would never leave him, that I was now his wife, that I would be his forever, and then he began to make me verbally repeat some very verbally graphic things to him. I was crying. At this point I hated/loved him. I wasn't sure which. He finally left and the next day I went to the DMV and car dealership and had my car transferred to my name. I then began looking for a place to stay that Harold wouldn't know about. I found a place in Newport that I rented and moved into several days later. Little did I know that one of Harold's "swinger friends" was a cop and could trace my whereabouts by my license number and so forth.. Well, of course within days Harold found me at my new place. He again beat me and threatened my life and then told me since I had "pulled this stunt" that he was going to be Johanna's driver for a while and that he had made arrangements for me to be set up in a hotel room (in a very nice hotel in Newport Beach that was being paid to look the other way). I had enough regular clients that the agency had agreed to this arrangement. It was good and bad news for me. Good news in the sense that I would have a bit more freedom from Harold (although he called my cell phone constantly and would drop in unannounced frequently to make sure I was behaving myself). It was bad news in the sense that I did not have a driver. I was alone in a hotel room with all kinds of men coming in and out to see me. I had no one to protect me whatsoever. I had thousands of dollars of cash hidden in the closet in a bag each day (where else was I supposed to keep the money I was making for the day?). I was more scared than I had ever been. With every knock on the door I didn't know what or who I would find on the other side. This went on for a few months. As the months in that hotel room passed, I actually made friends with two of my clients. The first one was named Carmine. Carmine was an absolutely gorgeous man in his forties. He was from Italy and was tan, was a professional body builder (and I was really into fitness at the time) had beautiful, curly black hair and hazel eyes...and perfect white teeth. He was gorgeous! He started coming to see me on a regular basis and I began to not charge him in a weird way it was kind of like we were dating. I hid the whole Harold thing from him and I hid his visits from Harold. My relationship with Carmine actually became serious and he asked me to leave the business and move in with him. I thought because nothing would be in my name that Harold wouldn't find me, so I agreed. I moved in with him and we were happy for a few months. Then somehow Harold found me and took me back again threatening my life. Carmine never knew what had happened. He just came home from work one day and I was gone. No note, nothing... So after more punishment from Harold I went back to work at the hotel. I made friends with one other client but this time I didn't even think about leaving. I was in a world of hurt. I didn't know what to do. Then one day, I was working as usual, taking calls, seeing man after man...it becomes a blur after awhile...you don't remember faces...instead I remembered smells.....if a man had a bad smell of any sort I would just about gag and then shower and brush my teeth vigorously after they left....I showered many times a day. The smells were horrible... Anyway, one day there was a call coming to see me. The man knocked on the door as usual and came in and started telling me how he had had a long day cleaning carpets, etc. I specifically remember him talking more than most clients and I just pretended to listen. Then I began negotiating with him. We settled on a price and during the act there was a loud bang on the door and then in came five police officers brandishing weapons. He was an undercover cop and I had been busted. I couldn't believe it. I stood there without any clothes on and they began questioning me and handcuffed me. I asked them if I could at least put my clothes on and they obliged. I was in complete shock. Part of me did not want to admit I was a prostitute. In my mind I was an escort...a dancer....not a prostitute!!! So, I was handcuffed, read my rights, they searched all of my belongings, confiscated my money and my record book of calls and phone numbers and amounts and then searched my car. They then put me in the back of a squad car and took me down to the station. They fingerprinted me, asked me a lot of questions about the agency I was working for and I gave them answers willingly. I can't remember what they set my bail at...but I had the money, so I was let go and they set a court date. I was standing out side of the police station without my car or cell phone. I went to a pay phone and made a collect call to Harold who came down to the station and drove me back to the hotel to get my car. Then we drove to my place, he calmed me down as much as possible and then he went home. I was still just trying to take it all in. The agency was calling me wondering why I hadn't come by to pay them at the end of the night. I told them I got arrested and taken to jail, etc. and they didn't care. They sent someone to my place to collect their take for the day. I just remember that night trying to figure out what I was going to do now. Now I had a criminal record and didn't know what to do.....Harold came up with an idea...since I hadn't been convicted yet- the court date was months off - and I had been arrested in Orange County, he suggested that I go work for a strip club in Los Angeles county...different county and I was less likely to get arrested in a strip club....so another journey in my life began....

Prev | Next Monday, August 29th, 2005 posted at 9:29am So here I was... just arrested for prostitution, trying to figure out how my life had come to this and what I was going to do next. Harold (as I previously said) suggested taking me to work in a Strip Club in LA. Of course he didn't pick just any Strip Club, he wanted me to go work at the most "prestigious" club in Los Angeles. In other words, the club he wanted me to go work at was one that mainly hired famous porn models, "regular" models, would-be and part-time actresses, etc. They only hired the best of the best. Looks wise, you had to be practically perfect and stage performance wise, you had to be awesome - you had to actually know how to dance (and not just strip, you had to know how to work a crowd, etc. I was more than intimidated!!!!!!!!!!! But, this is where Harold wanted me to work as he knew it would bring the most income (he was still "managing" my finances). Even though I had modeled for porn magazines, won fitness competitions, etc. I did not believe for a second that this club would hire me. I had no dancing experience to speak of and on top of it all, these women were beyond gorgeous....I certainly did not believe I was... after all I had just been arrested for prostitution and my self-esteem was at an all-time low. It was at this point that I began to pick at my skin. I would stare for hours in the mirror and examine my skin for any "imperfections" and when I found one I would pick at it until I was bleeding. This is something that I still struggle with to this day. Anyway, the day finally came when Harold drove me to Los Angeles to just "check out the club". I was wearing "regular" clothes and did not have any intention of auditioning or even applying that day. I remember walking into the club and finding a seat at a table with Harold. We watched the girls on stage for awhile and all I could think was there was no way in the world that they would hire me. However, Harold kept pushing me to go talk to the manager to see if they were hiring (remember, I had gone in "normal" clothes not prepared to apply!) I couldn't take his nagging anymore and finally asked to speak with the manager on duty. Well, lo and behold it was my soon to be hubby Jeff. At the time of course, I had no idea that someday we would be married... So, I asked Jeff if they were hiring. I remember being intimidated by his presence. He was a very large man in a suit and very intimidating. I remember stumbling out the words that I had never danced before and didn't really know anything about stage-work, etc. He was very quiet and non-responsive. I took his silence as a no and went over to Harold and told him it was a no-go and that we should leave. Harold got up from the table we were sitting at, went and introduced himself to Jeff, and then we walked out of the club. As we were walking to our car, I heard someone behind me calling my name. I turned around and it was Jeff. He told me that he would hire me on the spot without an audition! I was in shock and thanked him. He said his silence had not been a "no" and was surprised that I was leaving so quickly. I just was in awe as usually you have to audition in a club like that on amateur night and win the amateur contest to even be considered to be hired. Here was Jeff telling me to come back the next day with a costume and he would put me to work! I was overwhelmed! I didn't even know where to go to buy a costume! I had no idea how to walk in those horrible platform heels that the dancers wore. I did not know how to dance on stage. I did not have any music (Jeff had told me to bring my own music). So, the rest of that day I spent scrambling for a "costume", heels (that I couldn't walk in), and music. I went to a lingerie store and purchased a few items. I had no idea what to buy. I purchased a pair of platform heels, they were the only "stripper" shoes they had in my size. I then went to a music store and tried to figure out what kind of music to buy. I didn't have a clue. So, I picked out a few c.d.s that I though strippers would dance to. The next day I packed my stripper bag full of my gear - makeup, my costume, my heels, my music, etc. and headed out from Newport to LA. It was a considerable drive (about 40+ minutes with traffic) and by the time I got there I had to use the restroom so bad that I thought I was going to burst! I walked in, let my eyes adjust to the darkness, and found Jeff. He proceeded to lead me to a table in a quiet area and started going over the "rules" with me...all I could think about was having to use the restroom....so I finally interrupted him and told him I just had driven from Newport, had drank way too much coffee, and had to find a restroom quick.... (I forgot to mention before I went to talk to Jeff I had changed into my lingerie "costume"). He proceeded to tell me that the only restroom in the place was outside, around the corner and to the left. I wanted to cry! How was I going to make it to the restroom outside dressed like this and in stupid heels that I literally couldn't walk in yet? Yet, I had to go, so with a look of panic, I stood up and started to head out the door. At that point I heard a loud laugh behind me coming from Jeff. He told me that he was kidding and winked at me and told me the restroom was inside just to my right! He playfully punched me in the arm. I was relieved and stumbled to the restroom in my stupid heels. I remember thinking that Jeff was the first person that I had come across in quite sometime that had a sense of humor. I smiled to myself and vowed to get even with him. So, after I used the restroom, I went back to Jeff to get the rest of the rundown as to what the club rules were (no need to go into detail here). One of the only things I remember about our conversation was him telling me something about how he only hired the best of the best and that meant there was no room for prima-donnas. I didn't quite know how to take his comment. I thought he was telling me that he thought just by talking to me that I thought I was better than the other girls! I was a bit offended! Anyway, he proceeded to tell me in the future to bring at least four costume changes per shift (how did I know that?) and not to go on stage in my "stripper shoes" yet as he could clearly see that I was going to take a nose-dive if I did! He told me I could barrow a pair of low heels from another long time dancer there. So, I made my way back to the dressing room where I found her. She loaned me her "flats" - those were at least four inches high! And a few of her costumes to change throughout the day. I thanked her profusely and then I heard the d.j. calling Heidi to the d.j. booth. Heidi was my stage name. Harold had given me that name as it was the name of his youngest daughter (at that time she was about 9 yrs. old). I rushed to the d.j. booth, and the d.j. asked me what songs I wanted for my first set, I thought that meant I was up on stage next. I didn't have a clue. So, when the exotic looking African American girl that was on stage came down off stage, I made my way up the stairs to the stage only to hear a voice behind me saying, "Honey, it's not your turn yet - I was just changing!" - It was the beautiful, exotic looking girl that was just on stage! I didn't know it, but I had gone on stage in the middle of her set! Talk about embarrassing! So, I stood by the rail and waited to hear my stage name and music come on. I was extremely nervous, and mainly just walked around the stage trying to keep my balance (the stage was high and I am afraid of heights and those stupid heels were hard to walk in!) I managed to get through my first song and then the second one came on... I relaxed a bit and suddenly felt the "high" of being on stage. I stopped focusing on my nervousness and looked around and realized that Jeff was sitting at a table and smiling at me and watching my every move and that everyone in the club (even the other dancers) had stopped what they were doing and there was a silence among the crowd as all eyes were on me. I was elated and it went straight to my head. I climbed down off the stage after receiving a round of applause and great tips and went over to Jeff and asked him how I did. He said, "Well, you were right, you can't dance to save your life, but you are gorgeous and have that "it-factor". I didn't know whether to punch him or hug him. He then told me to come in before the club opened the next day and he would have Rebecca work with me on dancing (she was/is a fabulous dancer!) she actually worked for Cirque-Du-Soleil for a while. As usual.... to be continued....

Prev | Next Tuesday, August 30th, 2005 posted at 9:56am I left off telling you about my first experience on stage at the Strip Club. To make a seemingly unending story a tad bit shorter I will get right to the point in my experience in the Clubs. The "top dancer" is the girl that earns the club the most money on a daily or nightly basis. I went to the top of the list fast and stayed there. The owner of the club and the General Manager (not Jeff) encouraged me every night to beat last night's numbers. This meant I began competing against myself. I pushed myself hard. If I had done 60 private dances the night before I had to do (in my mind) at least 61 the next night to earn the constant praise from the owners. I became a self-destructive machine....I just pushed myself to the limits night after night after night... The good part of me working in the Club was that Harold had less control of me as he couldn't stay in constant contact with me at the Club. There was no way possible for me to carry a cell phone around with me in the Club and there was no way he could just drop in and "set me straight". So, as a result, I began to distance myself mentally from him somewhat. I however, was pushing myself so hard that I became addicted to alcohol and drugs to "enhance" my stage presence. I had never struggled with substance abuse in my life....but once one of the bartenders hooked me up with alcohol and then drugs I felt like I was doing even better (and my numbers went up) and I was able to dissociate and distance myself from what was going on in my life. It seemed like a good idea at the time! Then, one night Jeff approached me in the dressing room. Jeff had already earned my respect as in the beginning I viewed him as intimidating and stereotyped him immediately as just another one of the destructive men in the world. I had no basis for my initial judgments, I just lumped him into the "bad man" category without getting to know him. Over time working for him for many months I came to see that he was different in many ways from the other managers/owners in the Clubs. He actually showed compassion and respect towards the dancers! (Not to mention he is/was extremely handsome!) I began to notice that many of the girls came to him with their problems and that he would actually listen and try to help them...I never once saw or heard of him taking advantage of the girls when they were in bad situations (or at any other time for that matter)! He made it very clear that when he looked at a dancer that he looked us in the eyes (not at our bodies like all the other managers) and that he had come to see women undressed as their uniform at work. He had been managing for 15 years when I met him and he was over the whole "This is the greatest job in the world" thing. So, back to the night he approached me in the dressing room. He told me that he was concerned about me as he knew that I was turning to substances just to survive. He was the first person to notice that I was harming myself by picking at my skin (I learned how to cover it up well with makeup). He told me that if I needed help that he would help me. I just sat there and cried. I could not get a word out! I was thinking to myself if this man only knew my past and that I had been a prostitute there was no way he would care about me. So, I just cried. I cried so hard that I had to leave my shift that night and go home....you can't keep your makeup looking good if you are gushing with tears. Over time I began to open up to Jeff just a bit. I did not tell him about my past, however, I just opened up to him about my substance abuse problem and he was trying to help me get clean. It took months and months of his unrelenting kindness for me to even open up to him about that. Sometimes I was outright nasty to him yelling things like,"What do you care if I drink!? I bring in the most money for this club and you know it!" He would always respond that it wasn't about the money for him, that he was actually concerned about me....I thought "Yeah, right!" for the longest time. Then one night a customer slipped a "roofie" (a drug that makes you pass out) into my drink. I was initially unaware of it. The last thing I remember I was dancing with some guy and then I woke up in a hospital bed with Jeff standing by my side. From what I was told, after I danced for the guy, I was making my way down the stairs to the main floor and passed out. Jeff picked me up and rushed me to the dressing room where he had another dancer dress me in my street clothes. He then drove me to the hospital where they confirmed that I had been slipped a "roofie" and they gave me fluids and I am not sure what else they did and then waited for me to wake up. When I did wake up I was incredibly disoriented and confused. Jeff tried to explain what had happened, but I was having a hard time taking it all in. He then drove me to his place - (remember I lived at least 40 minutes away)- and sat with me all night to make sure I was going to be okay. I later learned that he had seen this happen to many dancers over the years and knew what to do. I was panicked all night that Harold would be calling my apartment and wondering where I was and that he would later beat me for not being home when I was supposed to. I was freaking out yet I was afraid to tell Jeff why. I finally told Jeff I needed to drive home....and I did....but looking back I shouldn't have...don't you love hindsight... As usual....to be continued....

Prev Wednesday, August 31st, 2005 posted at 3:37pm So, after my experience of winding up in the hospital from some guy drugging my drink and Jeff being there to help me, I began to open up to Jeff more and more. We became really good work friends and I secretly had a crush on him, but I was afraid to act on it because of Harold. The night of Jeff's 35th birthday, many of the club empolyees threw a big birthday party for him at another club in Los Angeles. I just told Harold I was working and went to Jeff's party. Little did I know that Jeff had told many of his friends that if he wasn't married by the time he was 35 that he was just going to give up looking. Anyway, that night we went to a club to celebrate and I didn't know it at the time, but Jeff had feelings for me as well, but had been afraid to express his feelings towards me because he was afraid of rejection! So, after he had drank 15 shots of Yegermiester (yes...15!), smoked some pot, and had some champange (don't worry - we both are clean and sober now!) he asked me to step outside and have a cigarette with him. I replied that I didn't smoke but would love to go outside with him, so I did. As soon as we were outside, he leaned over and kissed me...and I kissed him back! He then pulled away and apologized for being so forward. I replied not to worry, that I liked him too!!!!! He then asked me how much I had been drinking and I could honestly reply I was sober! Well, after that night, Jeff and I began dating. It was complicated because of Harold. One night Jeff and I were sitting on his living room sofa and my cell phone kept ringing. I knew it was Harold. Jeff was asking me what was going on. I just sat there and cried. I could not force any words out at all. I wanted to tell Jeff all about Harold, that I had been arrested for prostitution, that I had been abused by my father, etc. but I was terrified that he would reject me. So, I sat there shaking and crying for hours. He patiently sat by my side and helped me get the words out one by one...it took forever. I was exhausted at the end of it all and Jeff just held me and told me he loved me and that he didn't care about my past! The next day since I hadn't gone home that night and I went straight to work at the club and never called Harold, Harold set out to hunt me down. He started his hunt by calling the club to see if I was at work. Guess who answered the phone? You guessed it...Jeff answered! Jeff immediately knew it was Harold as I had told Jeff his age and about his heavy accent (he was from Argentina) and here he was getting a phone call from an older man with a heavy accent asking if I was working. He asked for me by my "real" name, not my stage name. Jeff knew it was Harold....and I am not sure of exactly what Jeff told Harold (and I don't think I ever want to know...Jeff wasn't Christian yet and still involved in organized crime), but after years of torment and being followed and abused by Harold....that day it all stopped! I was so elated and for at least a year after that I looked behind every bush, tree, in the back seat of my car, screened every phone call, moved in with Jeff (remember we weren't Christian yet), etc. Harold was really gone!!!! Well, to try to speed up a forever story, Jeff and I both got "clean" together and ended up leaving the Industry together. It took a lot for us to leave (for Jeff it took finding out that two of his friends...the owners of the club he managed....had murdered someone!....but that is a story for a different day!) We moved out of Los Angeles, worked through some tough stuff....depression...my past....finding "real jobs".....going from having endless supplies of cash to being flat broke and out of work.....but in the end God used it to His glory! We got married and after we had been married about a year I felt the Lord tugging at my heart saying, "Remember Me?" I gave my life back to Christ and started going to a wonderful church here in our area. Jeff respected my beliefs, but stayed away as he had been raised Jewish. Well, remember when The Passion of The Christ came out in theaters? Jeff wouldn't go to church with me, but he would go to a movie theater....so I asked him to go with me to see The Passion. My tough, strong man sat there and cried like a baby! That night he accepted Christ as his personal Lord and Savior and we have been fighting the good fight togeter ever since! I won't kid you and say that it has been easy, God is still healing us today, but it is soooooooooo worth it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!