Confessions of a Craig’s List Whore

Writing is good for the soul. I believe it is one of the very best therapies when you are overwhelmed with painful thoughts and emotions about past or future events to the point that you just can’t function and be productive *now*. Often, that is when it is the hardest to write, and probably when you need to write the most. Even if it starts with a grocery list of how dreadful your day was because you feel so confused. If you keep pushing, eventually, your pen will strike a chord that manages to tie those thoughts that are racing around your mind, to the source of your feelings down in your heart and soul and then weave those all together to translate your voice, into your truth. There’s something about our hands joining in to create something solid that you can pick up, shake out, asses with a more complete perspective that releases you from the burden of all that negative energy that was slowing you down.

Often the act of unburdening ones soul is enough to bring about resolution, when dealing with issues from the past. At times there is a second party involved and truly, our deepest turmoil has everything to do with people we love, and our relationship: how we are connected to them. To truly make a resolution within yourself, you have to communicate your heart to this person you are joined to. Misunderstandings are a result of miscommunication, when misunderstandings go unchecked, it results in separation. Love can not grow in inhospitable conditions, and will eventually die out due to a lack of honesty and truth. When people truly love each other, they will stick with it and be honest enough with each other to hammer out their two truths into one that displays harmonious colors. The difference between love, and *true* love, the kind that lasts, is truth.

It is disheartening to me at this point in my life to find that most people are not honest enough with themselves to hammer out their own truth, or they are unable to fathom that other people could have thoughts, feelings, or motivations beyond what they are willing to prescribe to you: misjudging people. Both conditions inhibit the growth of real relationships. Everyone is guilty of it at times to a certain extent, but if it is severe and consistent, there can be a fundamental breakdown in actually communicating with these people because they can not be reasoned with. And then there are those who deceive with the intent to lead you astray and do harm. The longer I live and witness how black the heart of mankind is, the less I want to engage in life on this planet, which is sad because this planet is beautiful, life is amazing, and to experience it is to be joy. I don’t know about y’all, but I came here to love.

Craig’s list has a reputation, and it deserves that reputation. Several years ago I started using Craig’s List for buying and selling used items, finding a place to live, and looking for a job. It can be an effective tool, I wish more legitimate people utilized it. Over the last year, I started reading it as therapy, which eventually has turned into entertainment, of sorts. It is my way of keeping in touch with the mood of a random cross-section of people in the area I live. Admittedly, a wander through the “casual encounters” section evokes that Sesame Street song, “These are the People in Your Neighborhood.” which takes on an ominous flavor when the reality of how many predators there are out there becomes glaringly apparent. Although, you have to commend their honesty to admit so openly that they want to be abusive, disrespectful, brutes, and sadly, that they want to be abused and disrespected because they’ve been conditioned from their youth to be that way. I remember the first time I was exposed to one of these ads, I literally gasped and covered my eyes, another time I shrieked, (I had been drinking and was not prepared for the visual) it took months to scrub the image from my head.

After four years being tortured by a psychopath, the only thing that shocks me now is an act of human kindness. Sometimes I think I am searching for evidence of compassion among the muck, and true to form, Craig’s List provides. Many times my heart has been touched by people who are genuinely reaching out to humanity to make some kind of connection. People are lonely. People want to be loved because humans need to be loved, and everybody seems to be too afraid, or too broken to love anymore. I have said countless prayers for random strangers, because I know what it is to be lonely, I don’t judge. When I say, “I am sorry,” when you tell me your troubles, it is because I sincerely feel sorrow for the suffering of mankind. I believe it is most often a result of misconceptions we have about who and what we are and only truth and love can set us free.

I most often browse in random cities because I’m not really looking for anything in particular and it provides some comic relief. I am amused that men everywhere think they are going to pick up a woman with some of the things that they say, and I have seen countless admissions that the only thing they ever get is a mountain of spam. Now, if you were in to hooking up with random strangers, I have to admit, it would be easier than going to the bar cuz you can easily skip over the guys with small cocks. The gentlemen who have been specially endowed are happy to post pictures of their Enormous Penis and who can really blame them? We are a society which celebrates such things.

I take a little bit of comfort knowing others have this random hobby, I can not tell you how many people have confided that they too find themselves browsing somewhere between fascination, disbelief, and repulsion; it’s more real than reality shows.

Digging a little deeper, I’ve had some programming by a man who thought it was appropriate to call me a Craig’s List whore when he got mad at me. Not because I am, or because I have ever been, a prostitute (any more than we all have sold out our souls to get by in this world) but because it was something he could say to hurt me and distract me from solving the real problems we were having. Any disagreement could be shifted into an all out attack on my character because all he wanted was to win the argument at any cost, pointing out the logical fallacies he used to support his case only resulted in him losing his temper, breaking stuff and pushing me around, often endangering my life.
Name calling is a tactic that abusive people use to you hurt you and subtly wear away at your self-worth, combined with the violence he approached me with during many of these incidents caused an almost neurotic fear of using the website for a time because my ever vigilant subconscious was trying to make sense of the garbage forced on me by his troubled head. In other words: I was afraid perhaps if I used a web hosted classified section for any reason it would mean I was, or it would cause me to become a whore… Weird, I know, but I am here to tell you that psychological scars remain long after the bruises have faded, even for a (relatively) reasonable, intelligent, person. But we all knew that, didn’t we?

Some times a person gets mad and says things they later regret when their conscious pricks them with the truth that they damaged someone they love, people who love truly will not only apologize, but will try to find a way to not let it happen again. They will find a way to communicate with love. Other people knowingly use these tactics to make others submit to them, it is bullying, it is learned behavior, and it damages people at their very core.

He learned to communicate this way because that is how his dad talked to his mom and apparently, no one ever told him it was no way to solve problems with the people you love. I tried to explain this to my beloved, but he was too busy trying to string me up for being a whore to take notice. Cruel Irony. And yet there is a part of me that thought that as an adult who has fathered at least three children, (and countless abortions) and because he is not a stupid man, he would figure it out – If your parents did shit that you knew was fucked up, find a way to not expose your kids to that behavior…

Your mom and dad fought because your womanizing, alcoholic father was wasting all his time and the money your mom needed to raise her kids at the bar, on drugs and trashy women. Then he would come home and beat her up when she would call him out on it, saying it was because *she* was stepping out on him rather than addressing his ego and facing his problems. Grand projectors that family. To anyone who lived this scenario as a child, your dad was WRONG to treat your mom that way, the violence you witnessed as a child because your dad was an addict damaged the way you relate to people and it is up to you to unwind those misconceptions so you do not damage your own kids, please do not perpetuate that disease by using your fathers terrible behavior to justify your own. Love yourself. Love your children.

The first of last February we went to our third counseling appointment together. I had the first half of the session alone and told the councilor I thought we were moving in a positive direction, I told her how much I loved him and how thankful I was that he had finally agreed to go to counseling so someone else could help him understand how to communicate and work out our problems, which were largely due to him accusing me of things I was not doing.

Imagine my surprise when he joined the session and told her that I abused him and he didn’t have anyplace else to go. That day I left my tools, furniture, and hydroponic garden in the house I had been remodeling for us to live in, put my daughters in the car, and took up residence at my mom’s house. I also offered him a ticket back to his family, but he wouldn’t take it because he wanted to keep all my stuff. Dual restraining orders keep us from having any communication, and I’m ok with that, I am still recovering from the past insanity he exposed me to.

Yet all that unresolved miscommunication still gets to me occasionally because I still love. After following my own advice and writing out what was really in my heart, mind, and soul, because the burden was too great for me to bear, I decided to post my letter to him in the Missed Connections section on Craig’s list with the rest of the missives penned to the objects of unrequited love.

LAST CHANCE

Beloved,

I know you haunt these pages hunting for me. I know that you have felt very lost and alone with no word from me, but those are the consequences of your choices. I have had to tread so carefully to protect us all, while you have persecuted me without cause. I do not have the power to mend what you have broken. Only you can do that.

I will not settle for a lesser companion of any sort, I think you know that. You know what we had was better than anything you ever dreamed of, you just wouldn’t let us be. If you are a man of integrity, you will step up and make our family right. If you have the ability to be real and fix your mistakes you would make a commitment and do whatever it takes, spending everyday and dime focused on making OUR FAMILY (our kids, me, and you) life better no matter what. You have to show me that you will improve our life before I can make a place for you in it, you don’t get anymore free chances. You have to prove you have what it takes to be my man just as much as any other guy who wanted a chance with me.

Wasting my money defending myself against your bullshit in the court is NOT the way to claim my heart. I forgive you, because I truly do understand your problem and love you as truly as one person could love another, but I can not allow your issues to damage me and my girls every single day. Your unresolved chaos damages their psyche and I want them to grow up to be intelligent and strong. How much better off would you be if you did not spend half your childhood worrying if your dad was going to kill your mom next time he lost his temper? Not to mention hiding the fact you were worrying about that rather than your school work and being a kid.

You broke my daughter’s heart. She adored you, believed in you, and the family and future we promised her. At 10, she identifies with, “Somebody That I Used to Know” as well as any adult. She has it saved on you tube and listens to it repeatedly, sorrow in her eyes, searching the lyrics for some resolution, some reasonable answer for suffering such a complete loss in love. She did not deserve what you did to us; Neither did your daughters. It’s hard for me to believe you give a damn about any of this because I don’t believe a man who loved and honored himself and God would send his kids out into the world with nothing and refuse to do anything to contribute to their welfare. That bad karma alone is going to wreck you.

The longer you go on not fixing what you’ve done wrong and doing whatever it takes to make it right, the further you are from your home, happiness, and the true love of the family God created for you. You like to pretend that you can replace me because it makes you feel powerful to hurt me, but at some point, you are going to acknowledge that truly you are hurting yourself, and your children, and my pain is not a result of jealousy, but for how you undermined and destroyed our family because you refused to be honest and respect my boundaries. Your sorrow is multiplied every time you do me wrong until you can’t even look yourself in the eye anymore knowing you left me and these angels alone in the world. Karma is a bitch, and so is a dirty conscience.

It’s been a year since you forced us out, and I still wear your t-shirts to bed, your jackets when i leave the house. I don’t love or miss you any less than I ever did, and I don’t see that changing, any more than I see evidence of your lack of commitment toward me changing. I didn’t deserve anything you put me through and if you haven’t figured out where you went wrong, I don’t want you back. You have a long way to go to prove you want to claim us, and if you are just not up to it, I understand, and I forgive you. Monogamy, honesty, and loyalty may be concepts too difficult for you to handle because you never learned to trust, and you just wont choose to even though you know my love is true. If that is the case, I hope you will be truthful for your children’s sake and let us know you are not coming back. I have to come up with some sort of answer to mend their broken hearts and explain what you thought was more important than our family. Their hope, as well as my own, has worn too thin to support our faith in you or your unsubstantiated love any longer. It’s time I try to focus on creating an alternative future that I can materialize for them rather than just wondering and waiting on someone who just doesn’t care. So, this is your last opportunity to break our hearts, or make things right because if you haven’t figured it out- I’m done playing your game, I have no more patience for your drama. Be real, and fix it or go away forever.

Thanks,

Location: Outskirts of hell

I was not terribly surprised when less than 48 hours later it was flagged for removal. I can only imagine one person who would be so offended by this particular post to think that it had to be flagged and removed. Nor was I surprised to find that he immediately added a couple of tramps to his Facebook page. He let me know it’s time to turn the light off. In his opinion, his children and I are not worth coming clean for. I don’t need a man around who likes to roll in the trash, they bring disease into a home. I pity those stupid chicks because where they think they are getting a sugar daddy to give them some pot, toying with their newly discovered power of manipulating others with sexuality. He views them as prey to take advantage of any way they will let him, encouraging them by pretending to be anything they want him to be.

What I didn’t expect was during the short time it was posted, my spam box filled not with spam, but with notes from strangers wishing me well, sending me prayers, commending my strength and writing abilities, giving me encouragement and even asking for advice. It was a lovely, surprising little nudge because I had been toying with the idea of actually dedicating some time into a blog, something I’ve wanted to do and have been encouraged by my councilors to take up, but haven’t had the time, or head-space (or courage) to do it. Until now. I learned that in spite of what he told me, my voice matters, and every time I speak out in love, I get a little love back and for that, I am very thankful.Warped Refections