Ready to Fly

To Phillip,

Thank you for being being you… this poem is said in a whisper. 

Ready to Fly ~

At a time in my life when I was just about to fly, he came, he really came.

My feet were still touching the ground, I’m scared, so scared.

The fear to let go of everything I held close,  so strong

I need help, I need help.

At a time in my life when I was being called to go higher, he came he really came.

My heart had been ripped back open, I’m scared, so scared.

The fear said I’d never make it out there without the demons, it lied deep lies.

 I need help, I need help.

At a time in my life when I couldn’t house or clothe my child, he came, he really came.

My soul burned everyday telling me to scream my story, I’m scared, so scared.

He held my hand, my heart, my child, my fear, so I’m brave, I can be brave.

It’s ok to need help… I need help! Someone help!

At a time in my life when I was ready to let go, he came, he really came.

My spirit he penetrated teaching me to believe, I’m loved, so loved.

He told me he’s here now, I let my feet lift off the ground, I’m flying, I’m flying. I’m finally flying!

I needed help, he came, he really came.

Trikonasana

I wish I were an everyday writer. I have been writing all my life, but the magic of story telling only comes to me during a pivotal point in my life or revelations. There’s something magical about the fire that burns in the bottom of my heart when I decide to write about what I feel. Maybe it’s a gift. Maybe my sensitivity and openness is a curse. Maybe it will save someone’s quality of life. Maybe it’s saving my own.

I received a hateful message this morning on Facebook from a younger cousin who has anger and alcohol problems. I should be used to the whole slut shaming and virgin/whore dichotomy by now… but for whatever reason it stung like 10,000 be stings into my intestines this morning upon awakening. My body began to tremble and my heart race with fear. I was triggered. That life threatening, survival instinct had kicked in. He talked about the well being of my child. My child, the only reason I have life at all right now. The very thing that pulled me from the gates of hell, and gave me the inspiration to fight mental illness, addiction, failure, and trauma, was my child. Is my child, I should say. I still fight these things, but I am WINNING.

Later this morning, I bowed into myself on my yoga mat in a class of thirty people or more. I have not been practicing much lately because I have been running from my fear so fast I haven’t been sleeping well or breathing well. So to finally get on my mat and be fully willing to surrender my things to do list, my anxiety about money, my fears of failure and inadequacies, was a relief.  I dropped into my breath over and over trying to let go of fearful or anxious thoughts… and then it happened. As I closed my eyes and gracefully leaned in & opened up into trikonasana (triangle pose) my heart metaphorically ripped right open to the ceiling. Tears trickled down the side of my face and onto the floor. There I was, shinning brightly, beautifully, radiantly , and I knew it! This is who I am. I am never the things I fear or what people have told me. When you are graced with that glimpse of who you are, the moment that can barely be described with words, the only option in to weep at the revelation of your own power and beauty. I’ve been running from my beauty and running from my power because it’s frightening. Frightening to think, I might just experience even greater love, even greater success. I might just fuckin pull it off again this whole “after college thing.” The fear that I will be abandoned by everyone I love if I truly fill my life with what I love and desire. The fear that if I don’t have another degree or save some children in Africa, that I’ll disappoint everyone who has cheered me on.

I am so scared, but as I stepped back like an acrobatic dancer into down dog & whipped myself back upside down into wild thing… I almost yelled out loud as I said in my head with my eyes closes, “THIS IS MY BODY. THIS IS MYYYYYYY BODY. THIS IS MINE!!!!! THIS IS MY LIFE. THIS IS MY HEART! THIS IS MINEEEEEEEE!!!!!” But, I just whispered it to myself. This is the yoga. It never fails. Somatic therapy. Connection to something greater. Tapping into power.

I have so much more to say on what was said in that message & my experience of female objectification and parenting, but I am really excited about organizing my room right now and shaking my ass to some dub step. … until next time.

My Spanish Adventures

Blog Spain

I wanted adventure. I wanted reprieve. I wanted to feel something new inside me and all around me. I wanted to love myself more deeply. I wanted to be free. 

I got all these things and more.

At a time in my life where I was closing the epic adventure of "porn star-turned-mommy goes to college," I was also getting ready to travel across the world leaving my 5 year old daughter at home for 7 weeks. The epic adventure called college was where I would prove to myself and the world that I was far beyond just being a whore. That I actually had a brain, a heart, and a drive no one could match. I won 35 awards in 4 years. Because of my street smarts combined with my school smarts, I got to travel to Oahu, Maui, Tahoe, Thailand, Bali, Spain, & now Portugal without having a job. I don’t say this to brag; I say this because this journey has been absolutely ground breakingly magical… miracle after miracle. Sometimes it feels as if my life were on autopilot towards success no matter how many times I fell down. I had the honor to touch peoples lives, to stand up in front of hundreds of people to tell my story and passions. One time I had a standing ovation for which I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. May I never forgot what I am capable of, what we all are capable of. It’s mind blowing, and sometimes I forget. It’s easier to forget, than to remember, for remembering means you have to step up to the plate, no giving up. 

This academic journey has been my incubator cooking me, preparing me to stand strong against adversity out there in the real world. A world that raped me metaphorically and literally. A world that chewed me up, spit me out, and left me to die. I had no tools for living in it. And, now my college journey had come to a close and I felt so uneasy embarking on my Spain/Portugal trip this summer. I found myself wanting to drink the fear and uncertainty away. I found myself doubting everything I’ve worked for, doubting my parenting skills (which is ridiculous because I live and breath for that child), doubting my ability to be anything more than a sex worker… on n' on. I felt alone in Spain and misunderstood.

Then I hit a breaking point and let all that shit go. I jumped in the water, paddled hard, spit salt water out my mouth with vengeance, and went for wave after wave after wave until my body wouldn’t let me anymore. (I am talking about small waves, mind you.) Every time I got back on my board, A board, ANY board, I came back to myself, pretty much in the same way yoga and meditation bring me back to the present moment, back to who I feel I am, back to my strength & resiliance. It’s like it hits a reset button. Like when you’re playing mortal combat or some video game and you don’t like your score- you can just give in and hit that reset button hahahaha. Every thing is like a video game to me for some reason. That’s why I liked school. Points involved? ALRIGHT IM IN! Reset button for the game of life. 

My first couple weeks, I was so worried about not having all the adventures I was craving until my friend invited me to meet her in the island of Ibiza for a really fancy adventure: private jet plane, giant white Spanish guest house with our own pool for skinny dipping, dancing naked on our own balcony, danced naked on a beach & climb rocks while our Italian dudes laughed at us and made sure we didn't die, being fed glorious meals by different people I met along the way, motor bike rides for beer and pizza, danced til 7am at the famous club Amnesia. Ibiza rocked my world for 4 days of twighlight zone.

 On the way to Ibiza I was like a manifestation magnet for adventures and romance. First, I ended up sitting next to a cool hippy dude that revealed to me he's a rock climber and all things outdoors. SCORE!! He showed me pictures on his phone of epic outdoors trips and my heart started pounding with excitement. We exchanged info, and we ended up going on a few adventures together and becoming life long friends, I am sure. He has a house in the mountains that I will come visit soon. He even hosted me at his mother's home and they treated me with such kindness and tenderness; I felt really special to be there and to have their welcoming and hospitality. Secondly, when I transferred buses to get to the airport, some hot blue eyed babe swooped me from the side and hosted me the rest of the way to the airport. He paid for everything and we laughed and tried to get to know each other even though his Spanish was so fast for me. As we parted, he demanded a kiss... he was so bold as to ask for french kiss with a little tongue! So, I just licked his face from chin to nose instead, and then I walked away. Now, we are pen pals. Butterfly inducing, exciting friendship kinda pen pals. He has a home in Malaga where I will stay with his family when I come back. SCORE again!! 

Upon my return to Comillas, where my school program was, I finally met some cool surfer dudes from Belgium & Holland. One totally swindled me at a club where I refused to go home with him (he had no shoes on for heaven's sake and sleeps in a caravan at a surf camp). The next day on the beach he waived to me while he was teaching surf lessons. None of the other surfer dudes had ever made effort to talk to me before so I was sure he was not waving to me! I looked behind me as to see who he was waving to and I never waved back. This dude was relentless because then he came up to talk to me even though I seemingly ignored him and refused his offer before ha ha. This time he invited me to have tea, and I thought that's pretty legit & nice. Fast forward, fell in love with all the amazing, open, funny, beautiful people at his Belgium surf camp he works at, fell in love with Oyambre beach, and my new surfer friends took me for a sunrise surf session to end it all. I caught lots of little waves and felt on top my own lil world. Every time I looked over at my new friends, my heart smiled because although I am not the greatest surfer yet, it feels really nice to share the love of surf with other people who know how you feel. I felt really appreciated by them, and that's such a nice feeling. I met so many other people... these are just the highlights.

I just wanted to be free... I just wanted to love myself a little deeper. In each of these special people, I saw my freedom and love of life reflected back to me. Thank you to the people who saw me for me, danced with me all night, surfed with me, fed me, helped me, and laughed with me. I don't always get everything I want, but I definitely come VERY VERY close on a regular basis. The life of Ernesto Manifesto. <3

Girl In the Mirror

Wow! Here I go with this feeling I get when I have to write. It's like this higher part of me receives a revalation, and I have to let it flow creatively to be fully expressed and experienced...

I have gone through some pretty gnarly transitions and events this last few months, but this is what I am good at. I am on this personal path to uncover all my dark parts, to shed light, and be rid of the painful things that have held me back from being FREE. Free in my spirit, free to love & be loved, free from fear, free from internal anguish and self-destruction. When you are on that path, man the shit sure likes to hit the fan for all to see. The reason for this is #1 to humble you by forcing you to bask in your truth, all of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly. #2 it is an opportunity to learn who you are & accept yourself with radical acceptance & radical love regardless of what your best friend says about these events, regardless of the stories that have been played on repeat in your head about who you are & what you do & the reasons for it, regardless of what men or women come in and out of your life. When it comes down to it... YOU are the one who decides what meaning to give to your life, your spirit, and your character. YOU are the one who is responsible for your peace and contentment. YOU are the one who can rid all the terrible things that have happened and to transform them into works of art for the world to enjoy.

Before I receive clear perspective after the all hell seems to break loose, I tend to go into sort of a fog because all my beliefs and old patterns get stirred up. They get stirred up so that radical transformation can emerge and new beliefs can settle in. But man, can it be dark and lonely in the process. I made myself hang on tight and everyday this last month or two I have sat on my meditation pillow bowwing to my own heart, knowing that I can take refuge in thy self. I made this little place inside me my home. The love of my life seemed to turn his back on me as I was going through this transformation, my best friend has lectured me and I feel cut off from her, my family came to my rescue but bringing all their dysfunction along with their love, and mean while I have been trying to pull myself together to prepare to leave the country for the first time 12 years to a country I know little about. It's a lot. But, like I said, this is what I am made for. This is what I asked for. I beg God to keep healing me, I so deeply want to be free from the internal torment I have experience my entire life... the self-destructive habits that can lead me to think death is an option. I mean that is some sure soul torment when you have everyting to live for, but the pain inside is too hard to bear & it feels there is no way out at the time. My heart goes out to anyone who knows that type of utter gutwrenching pain.

Now that the fog is subsiding, I've had glimpses. These are the little gifts I receive from the Universe and seem to be part of the unveiling process. Recently, I have been an energetic magnet. I have been getting FB messages or comments from people that I didn't even know think of me and with their sweet appreciative words my soul opens up a little more to see what I should be seeing instead of the fog. People keep telling me that I inspire them, or that they are in awe of me, my love of life (& this person knew about my recent mental break down even yet she still knows & sees my love of life!), people have been telling me how beautiful I am even though I sometimes struggle with an eating disorder or body image quirks from my modeling days that haunt me, people hug me like they really love being with me, but mostly its these random messages I get from others or see people taking my advice on books, herbal medicine, self-love stuff, and working out... it makes me feel so good like I have a positive impact on people without even trying, just by taking care of myself, being brutally honest, and riding the waves. I feel overwhelmed with appreciation for the kind words that people have given me randomly. THANK YOU. Thank you for showing me that I am not alone & that you all see me... even when I have a hard time seeing myself. Thank you so much and I am inspired to keep telling others when they touch me with their beauty or strength.

This is not all for nothing. This IS FOR SOMETHING! The biggest lesson I am learning is the depths of self love.

Crazy Beautiful: What Does It Mean to Be a Whore? Before I ever ha...

Crazy Beautiful: What Does It Mean to Be a Whore?

Before I ever ha...: What Does It Mean to Be a Whore? Before I ever had sex, I was called a slut and a whore by the kids at school. My own father told m...

What Does It Mean to Be a Whore?

Before I ever had sex, I was called a slut and a whore by the kids at school. My own father told me in a fit of rage that the whole school thought I was a slut. I lost my virginity in a bathroom of a park from a pimple faced popular boy who pressured me into it without asking. I was terrified and I had no idea what was going on, but the words of those who called me a whore stuck in my mind, and I confirmed for them... that indeed I must be a slut. Now that I am older and have experience as a woman, as a mother, as a survivor of sex trafficking and exploitation, as a scholar, as a kick ass student & lover of life, I have begun to wonder what does it really mean to be a whore...

Am I a whore because of the way I look

Is it my beauty that your envious of while you stand empty watching me be loved by many

Am I whore because I enjoy cooking a masterful meal wearing only underwear

Is it because I let my daughter be naked in the house all the time as she delights in her own mere presence

Am I a whore for automatically shaking my ass every time my body feels the entrancing, pulsation of music no matter where I am at

Is there a certain number of men I have to sleep with before I cross the invisible WHORE threshold

Or is it because I like to sleep with women sometimes too & actually have been since I was 13

Am I a whore because I know how to connect with people on a level you only dream of

Is it because I have seen the darkest of men, in secretive places & I know their pain

Am I a whore because I know how to survive when there is no one else to help me

Is it because you fear my determination and my strength

Is it because I fall in love fast & love with all my heart 

Am I a whore because I decided to give life to my unborn child instead of believing you I couldn't do it

Is it because I am comfortable in my own body and embrace my woman-ness every chance I get

Am I a whore because I talk freely about sex and I am unashamed of my "taboo" past

Is it because I made hundreds of thousands of dollars through my old work, that you will never touch

Am I a whore because my job took me to the depths of this earth and catapulted me to another level of existence in order to THRIVE

Or is it because I want to spend my life helping child victims and giving voice to all the other women you like to call a whore

Am I a whore because my innocence was ripped away from me while secretly drugged in my adolescence 

Is it because you know you want even just a tiny piece of the gifts I have to offer the world

Am I a whore because you could never please me and you will never have me

...

Oh, I know... I am a whore because I finally decided to take my power back & you don't like that very much.

Izabella's father called me garbage  and a whore again the other week. This is 4 years of mental abuse & I won't have it anymore. I am not the scared, broken little girl who he met in a strip club 4 years ago. I know who I am now and I am learning to love every single piece of it. Izabella overheard a phone conversation & knows he called me garbage. This hurts her & she has brought it up when she got sad about something totally unrelated. I validated her feelings & told her people make mistakes. We have to learn & forgive & love. I told her its ok to not like if boys say garbage... you tell them "NO, that is not ok with me. You don't talk to me that way." And she understood. We practiced saying NO by being silly with attitude. My motivation is her. What kind of woman do I want her to try to be? How do I want her to view men? Thank God for her Tio Paully who shows her what love means & how men should treat her mommy. XOXO thank you for reading.

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I will be doing everything I can to fight the good fight. Help me make a difference.