I had to give up my old apartment, which is a crying shame. It was an attic apartment in an old Victorian house, close to the river and in a great neighborhood. It had a sloped ceiling in the living room and big trees in the yard and two raccoons that would peek in the window at night. It was also nice and QUIET (as I age, I am slowly but surely turning into a true noise crank). I liked it there.
Well, the Collector was threatening to buy the house my apartment was in (yes, the entire building) if I didn’t stop “hiding” from him (and maybe hiding shouldn’t be in quotes because I was, in fact, hiding). He’s shown up at my door before and it was pretty awful. I’ve had a lot of experience with boyfriends who just come over break the door down (or, in his case, let themselves in with secretly-made copies of my house keys) and it was giving me a lot of anxiety, so I moved.
I think that we’re done.
Which brings me to the next topic…and it’s awkward….
Something has happened to me in the last few years. I started to think I’d like to eventually have a baby.
I’m a shocked as you are. I never wanted children before. I felt strongly enough about it to put it into my online dating profiles. I am at a loss to explain why I changed my mind. The only thing I can think of is that there really is something to that old trope about the biological clock: I’m in my late 30s now, and I no longer have a seemingly unlimited period of fertility ahead of me. My mother went into menopause early. It occurred to me that if I want a family, it’s something that I will need to plan for. Not immediately, but in the foreseeable future.
I told the Collector about it and he suggested that I freeze my eggs. He even offered to pay for it. I was blogging while this was going on, but it was too personal for me to share online at the time. I took him up on his offer and started going to the fertility clinic. It was one of the most expensive gifts a man has ever given me, but I took it. I had to go to classes and sign a lot of legal paperwork and inject myself in the abdomen twice a day, and then some of my eggs were harvested and frozen. They are floating in a vat of liquid nitrogen.
A year and a half later, our relationship had grown, and he told me that he wanted to be the father. He said that he always wanted to have a daughter. This is a huge thing for me. I mean, can you imagine it?! I thought about it. I’ve been thinking about it for a long, long time. On paper, it sounds great. He’s twenty years older than me. How many men his age are willing to have a new baby? Wow, aren’t I lucky that I found a guy like this? Look at all the things the Collector could give a baby! It would have every material advantage! The best education money can buy! The best health care! It would live in the most exciting city in the world! It would have two high-IQ parents! It would probably be good looking!
The Collector had one restriction: he wants me to wait till I’m 40. Which is fine! I have more work to do on myself. I need at least two–and preferably three–years of unbroken sobriety before I even THINK of actually becoming a mother.
But I couldn’t commit to it. I kept pulling back, and asking myself if the man was really Dad material. His relationship with his elder son is not too great. And how could we have a child and keep practicing our sadomasochistic relationship? And am I ready to be domesticated? And he’s controlling, what about that? His kinks push the envelope sometimes, even with me (never thought I’d say that!). What if the relationship goes bad and a kid is involved–how on earth would I ever get away?
The Collector says I’m afraid of being happy. Is he right?
I know that before I have a kid–if I have a kid–I need a few years of good sobriety, and I also need a well-paying, steady job. I’m not saying that sex workers can’t or shouldn’t be mothers–I know many who are! But I think it would be best, for me, if I had a straight job.
During my time in rehab, I decided to make a career change. But first, I’ll have to go back to school. I’ll be going back to sex work in a few months in order to make money to cover tuition, because it’s going to be expensive and I won’t have the Collector’s help to pay it if I’m not with him.
I’ll tell you all about my new career plans in the next update! And also more about why I’m worried about marrying the Collector. Also, my ideas for doing sex work–I am going to try something new that will work around my rehab and recovery program.