Wednesday, September 8, 2010

He Called Me Brave

We're all painfully aware that I'm a narcissist. The volume of my blog alone shows that. And my addiction to feedback. And what I want for my birthday is for people to say nice things about me. Yep, yep, yep, I'm a narcissist.

It's no surprise, then, that I try to start calls with new callers by asking them, "What made you decide to talk with me today?" Some have followed up with, "What made me decide to call a phone sex line? Or you specifically?" and the answer is, "Yes. Either. Both." 

Why Phone Sex is fascinating because I'm still new to this gig (less than two months), and Why Me is fascinating as market research (what's helpful to emphasize), and also as guidance (for clues on what turns him on specifically), and also as a ridiculously high-volume boost to my ego lately. I mean really, who gets to ask everyone they meet to tell them good things about themselves? I have the best job ever.

So let's all imagine together, then, how I felt when a new caller, we'll nickname him "True Sighs," said that he had clicked through from my listing to my blog and spent an hour wandering around it, and what he liked is that it didn't feel like a persona, that I felt like a whole character, and he thought I was brave. 


I've been mulling for a few days why I have the urge to happy-cry when I think about it. These responses aren't rational, so sometimes they take a while to unravel themselves into words. 

I'm not fearless about this job. I'm certainly not free of insecurities. Every hour I'm logged in without calls is another battle on my back mental burners, a struggle between rationally knowing that I'm doing well and it's not personal that the phones aren't ringing right this second, and irrationally feeling like I must have failed everyone somehow. Maybe I wrote something too personal. Maybe I shared something unattractive. Maybe I chose unflattering pictures. Maybe I shouldn't remind people of their dental phobias if I'm trying to turn them on (was that a mistake yesterday? I can't tell if it's endearing or off-putting to share life issues like that, but it was all I could think about, so I shared it, but now I wonder if it was a bad idea...). Yes, insecurities exactly like that.

I love doing this work, even more than I thought I would. I love the connections I've made with people, the adventures I've had, the kudos I've gotten to soak up. And, of course, the attention. I love the attention with each and every atom in my whole body. 

So I do feel energized, intrigued, and gratified. But I don't feel unafraid. I'm doing this the best way I can figure out to do it, the way that feels the most honest to me, and therefore, the most sustainable. If I'd created a persona who was very different from me, I'd never be able to sustain her. So I keep it as true as I can to who I am, while still responding to the specific desire of the person on the other end of the line. 

And it feels like I'm taking measured risks with my heart, and with my energy. Yes, I've had a lot of therapy, and yes, overall I'm emotionally stable and resilient, and yes, I've had practice absorbing other people's issues without letting them eat away at me, and yes, I know many ways to rest and nurture myself if I start to feel drained. But, still, I do feel a little brave, in that John Wayne way of, "Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway." 

It was astonishing to have someone else see that, recognize it, and put it into words.

Thanks, True Sighs. It was a lovely gift. 


  1. I would proposition that your courage is the very reason your exploits, in this fledgling career, have progressed at the rate that seems to be thrilling and vexing those with a unambiguous understanding of its challenges. You are providing a quality experience to the aficionado and dilettante alike. The methodologies are unpretentious and particular to your skills. You've arrived at the novel idea that honesty, intellect and sexual lucidity provide an experience that is worthwhile and oh so extraordinary. I'm certain that the fantasy elements encapsulate the payload, but it would be imprudent to misunderstand what you give as nothing more than a carnal experience.

    As I read through your sharing, I am constantly marveling at the beauty and power of your Work. I am reminded of the archetype of the Virgin (Virgo) is synonymous with self possession and the High Priestesses of a "once and future" land. In other words, I feel as if I'm experiencing something timeless. As these men step into the Adytum you are constructing I hope that you can recognize the voice that is pouring through you, unrepressed and beautiful. Your voice before you had a mouth, as it has been said. I also hope you remember to ground, surrender and care for that light within. It will never go out, but if it isn't tended it could ease down into an ember that waits for you to rediscover it. So don't burn it too bright, and don't forget to feed it in that ways that you know to be true.

    I'll stop my prattling and leave you with this: "A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself." - Joseph Campbell

    In that sense, of course you are brave dearest Gal, of course you are.

  2. Johnny, I can't even begin to figure out how to respond to this amazing, incredible series of thoughts. I also enjoy hyberbolic, metaphorical, archetypical, spiritual, and mythological language, but to see it used to describe me is... overwhelming. I'm floored.

    I don't think the idea is new with me to combine honesty, intellect, and sexual lucidity, but I understand I'm choosing a specific niche by doing so.

    I don't feel like my work is heroic. It feels self-serving. I'm paying bills the best way I can figure out. If I make extra, I hire someone else to clean my house. Hardly noble.

    But thank you. I will certainly treasure your thoughts. And occupy one of my mental back burners from now until you call wondering how the fucking hell I'm going to live up to your expectations. But, y'know, no pressure.