18 years on, I feel nothing but shame for visiting a prostitute
DEAR BEL,
MORE than 18 years ago, I did something that remains one of the biggest regrets of my life.
I’m still struggling to come to terms with events that unfolded one night in Holland — which I consider to be appalling, careless, irresponsible and immoral. It ruined an otherwise enjoyable time at university.
It was a field trip. I was 21, single, exhausted (having barely slept for two days on the coach journey from the UK) and under the influence of several drinks.
At the suggestion of friends, we ventured into the city’s red light district. In no way (on my part at least) was it pre-meditated, but I’m sure you can imagine what happened next, and while protection was used, it still seems a moment of reckless madness — especially as it was my first time.
Visiting a prostitute was not the sort of thing I’d ever thought of and while I was not the only one to act in such a way that night, the toxic shame / trauma / humiliation is proving impossible to erase.
The circumstances of the woman could have been highly questionable (although she was Dutch, older than me and working in a ‘club’ rather than a window) and this compounds the angst.
I am disgusted with myself for both the action itself and my lack of strength of character. I try to push the episode to the back of my mind (not successfully), but worry how to tackle it for future relationships.
I’ve never been able to confide in anybody because my parents would be mortified and my only sibling passed away when I was a teenager. This means I feel isolated, lonely and depressed and it’s becoming more and more corrosive.
I just don’t want it to continue affecting my life. I would love to fall in love, settle down, start a family, but am terrified of the reaction if I were to tell a partner. If this proved to be a major reason for any subsequent separation, it would compound the guilt, shame and regret.
I’ve also become distant from friends (particularly those from university), as I’m scared of them telling others of what happened. To be honest, I’m jealous of their happy family lives with children — which I dream of having, while fearing what sort of role model I’d be for a young boy or girl.
Deep down, I believe I’m not a bad person and that what happened does not reflect my approach to, or view of, women, but it has hugely eroded my self-esteem and I fear that it will continue to haunt me.
ROBERT
Let me start by assuring you that your letter leaves me in no doubt that, if ever you are to be blessed with a child, you will be a most excellent role model.
For what does this letter reveal above all? A man on the cusp of becoming 40 who thinks very deeply about moral issues — so much so that he is still tormented by a single mistake he made 18 years ago.
A man who is self-critical to an inordinate degree. A man whose action on that long-ago night in a Dutch city was inspired by not one of the seven deadly sins — certainly not lust — but by peer pressure and booze.
A man who has said ‘mea culpa’ (I am guilty) so many times the phrase has lost all meaning — and so needs re-examining.
I hope I will not shock you too much if I say that I am not in the least bit appalled by your story. As a woman, I have always disliked the idea of prostitution, while admitting that it’s not called ‘the oldest profession’ for nothing.
I was once in a television debate with a representative of a collective of prostitutes, who made her case for women choosing to do
as they wished with their bodies. I most certainly did not — and do not — agree this should mean prostitution, but she had the right to state the view.
But, anyway, that woman would probably suggest you think of the Dutch lady you met as earning a living and worthy of respect for her autonomy.
I offer that thought as a corrective for you to consider — because this is the moment when you have to start turning your head around. To that end I would like you to find out about cognitive behavioural therapy with a view to seeking help — if you haven’t done so already. This obsessive re-running of one night, one mistake, in a loop in your head is really unhealthy.
A man I know very well indeed — a perfectly upright pillar of society — had a similar experience at the end of the Sixties, but in Paris. Being a sensible person, he just put it down to growing up, to curiosity and his loneliness at the time — and then just got on with his life.
A key omission in this letter is whether you have had successful sexual encounters since that night. This I would like to know because it has such a bearing on your state of mind. I beg you to think of what happened to you as within the bounds of normality — if by that we are talking about loveless sex.
Some men expect sex after paying for dinner, you know — so how is that so much worse than what you experienced?
Please find somebody to talk to — and/or accept me as your confessor, bowing your head and saying: ‘This is over.’