To Starting Over, the “F” Word, and What’s To Come…

Now that my life isn’t just about chasing experiences, I understand the intelligence behind slowing down and thinking ahead. I should say, though, that I don’t regret anything I’ve done, I don’t regret having gone broke because I wasn’t quite prepared to quit doing adult work – I saved a lot, just not enough – I don’t feel bad about being someone who didn’t have a backup plan, I don’t stew in guilt because I made mistakes. I’m just not that kind of person. Learn, live and move on. Besides, a person can have lots of money wrapped up in a company or some other type of investment and still lose it all. I have no illusions that I can cheat fate or death by hoarding away every penny, but slowing down and thinking before leaping does have it’s advantages.

To expound on that point a bit, I have a great deal of sympathy for people who find themselves starting over after being some sort of entertainer and then either not wanting to do that anymore or not being able to. It takes impulsive people to entertain. Rarely will you find an entertainer who is also well-grounded and shrewd in business because a person is typically one way or the other. Whether a musician or an adult actor, the trap is to have too much fun in the moment and then find you’ve squandered it all away. When you are a performer, when you take it seriously but don’t have practical business skills, you run towards center stage with your heart in your hand and hope like hell it’s not for nothing. Some may do it just for the money, but the same goes for people in any other vocation. Convincing sociopaths can also get into entertainment just for the money and glory. Just because they cry doesn’t mean their intentions are any nobler than someone who screams orgasms at the top of their lungs. Many types of entertainers fall victim to lack of foresight or just bad luck after a bit of success. It’s hard to make it as an artist, and while some would not consider the adult industry artistic – would in fact, consider it to have no integrity whatsoever, plastic heart and pulsating genitalia – it is the blatant outward crucifixion of the masses who watch the movies in private, in my opinion, that gives the industry it’s art. It’s art is not in the suspended disbelief of what we’re seeing, but in the quiet disregard of what we’re not acknowledging. I – the performer – will pretend that I am impervious to your feelings about me, and you – the viewer – can pretend that you don’t understand or care about me. It is a fine shell I see every time I look at a beautiful, naked woman, but of course, I can see through the shell because one must see through it not with the eyes, but with the heart.

(I swear I wasn’t going to be deep or anything – just dip a toe – and then… *ker-Plunk!*)

I have not cared about women in my past, but I do care about women now. I care to understand what is so awful and attractive about femininity. It’s just too curious not to contemplate. The average female is raised to guard her private parts like an Egyptian tomb, told nothing about it except not to use it until she gets married, then subjected to an entire species who will insult her if she does give it away, and also insult her if she does not. And all the other equally ignorant women will join in the fun of humiliation because they don’t know any better. It’s no wonder feminism is so important here. Extremes beget extremes. I can see where a woman could feel she has no choice but to develop a hard shell and feign anyone’s help just to prove to this world she is capable. It’s a bitch being told you are so special and the keeper of secrets and special joys, with no one to show you why or how or to explain exactly what it all means. But I think it’s also important to acknowledge that guys have it just as bad. The pressure to be the stronger sex and fix everything is in direct proportion with the pressure on the female to dummy herself down and appear to need saving in order to stroke the fragile male ego. Men are expected to be tough and know everything and to not cry, as if that is “faggy” or weak. As if there is something “wrong” with it. I am curious how femininity in this country has become synonymous with weakness – something undesirable – when the fact is, if you take a typically aggressive man and bestow upon him the gift of femininity, what you get is a sweeter and kinder man. Femininity, to me, is soft, compassionate, artistic, life-giving. In other words, it’s good to have feminine qualities. But what I find even more interesting than the benefits of femininity, that strange thing that men are too ready to assume is wrapped up in sex and that women are too ready to defend because the word feels so much like an accusation, is the example of the well-rounded person who bends to their feminine and masculine nature, when needed, who are comfortable with who they are and are so good at just being natural that when you think of them you don’t think about them in terms of male or female, you think, “What a nice person.” I want to be like that. I want to be someone that is thought of, not as a woman, but as a person.

This is not a New Year’s Resolution piece, but I would like to toast my invisible glass of champagne to 2010 – the Year of the Tiger, a promising year full of great documentary fun and the opportunity to get to know some cool and charismatic women (or “people”), and yet another opportunity to change and grow and learn and enjoy being human until the drama comes to a close and the curtain falls.

I’ve made up my mind to do a few things. I’m going to work on writing fiction. I love fiction, myself, and my imagination is scary, so I think I should unleash a few dragons. I’m, also, going to cut off all my hair. So much of my identity is wrapped up in my hair. It’s boring, and I’m ready for a dramatic change. Yes… a dramatic change..“In fact, I think I’m ready for a little androgyny,” she said in a low voice full of mischief with only the slightest upturn of the mouth and brow.

Happy New Year Everyone! 😀

– Julie Meadows