My mother lives in Saint Paul. Once, wandering around downtown my ex-husband and I found a vintage shop where we bought an antique mantle clock from the 1800’s for $25.00. And a bunch of vintage perfume.
The owner of the store was eerie…
He stood there and decided to go on and on about the shop’s history. And, as it turns out, there once had been a brothel there in the 1920’s or so. It was owned by Al Capone’s favorite mistress.
Actually, the entire history of Saint Paul, Minnesota in relation to organized crime is fascinating…
If I’m a love child…my father never controlled the brothels. He never did much in regard to drugs either, if anything at all. He did dabble in politics, gambling, real estate and alcohol though. He was very popular in Hollywood. He was good friends with a Humphrey Bogart and Clark Gable in particular.
My mother wasn’t a prostitute. I’m not one. I never have been…although I once had a hater label my marriage as prostitution a few years ago.
*laugh and smile*
If I’m not a love child…*huge laugh* my family has no ties whatsoever to prostitution. …*sigh*
…But, if God has allowed me to talk to ghosts…I suspect there’s a great many genuinely fascinating people who get into prostitution. Either through pain or desperation, to be honest. …But that observation about prostitution is probably true, regardless.
“What if a woman just really likes sex?!” asked a woman who secretly hated me and wanted to marry my ex-husband. She had read some “feminist” memoire about a prostitute who supposedly did her job as a way of being what we’d now label “sex-positive.” I’m pretty sure this woman was just trying to make me feel uncomfortable. She likely assumed I was a prude and wanted to feel superior somehow.
“I doubt any prostitute is doing it for reasons of self-empowerment. They’re probably more likely to be desperate somehow.” I said.
She vehemently disagreed. And no…she was an actuary.
…What prompted this post? *eye-roll* I just saw a post on Tik Tok by a supposedly prophetic woman who claimed the algorithm would help the right person find her post. And in her post she suggested the viewer might be a prostitute and have had a better life if they’d had a better Earthly father… *laugh* And then she became empathetic and talked about Christ’s love for prostitutes.
No…marriage isn’t prostitution. Even if you’re a stay-at-home-mom. …Although, it is sad that people nowadays see it that way at times.
And…I gave up on my dreams outside of the home because they seemed utterly pointless. …People like me need a supportive spouse. And I’d looked. For years. Diligently. …And it felt hopeless. Time was passing quickly and I wasn’t about to semi-intentionally waste my life. Men my age back then felt asexual or heartlessly hyper-sexual and older men were all Epstein on an off day… Certainly not the way I’ve described Michael, so to speak. On a personal level it felt…like suicide to care too much about my career dreams. It still does.
Writing though…that’s different. As I’ve written far too many times before, I had a former advisor to US Presidents call a foreign policy question I asked about US-Israeli relations astute. …And…I’m probably far better at politics than writing. I probably would have been a better lawyer too.