Life After Porn?

Nightline touched on this the other day. Although this is a subject that could of had a more in depth focus from Nightline's old 30 minute format on stories. It did alright in showing the two sides.



Keep in mind that Christy Canyon is still drawing her paycheck from Playboy while doing this interview. She might not be doing porn anymore but she is still in the industry. She isn't going to bite the hand that feeds her.

The other thing I noticed there seemed to be quite a few video clips of possible paid content shown as B-roll. Someone at ABC News could have paid for it. I'm guessing it was George Stephanopoulos. He seemed to have a pretty good understanding on strip clubs.*

Porn can almost be put into the same category as Alcohol. A prohibition on it would only drive it underground. It would take away choice for people. If porn is outlawed, is it truly a personal choice made in the heart or denial by convenience?

There is an entire theological argument against porn but I'm trying to look at this from a political point of view right now. And this isn't about pointing fingers, either. I can't say that I've never looked at porn on the computer. I've done my fair share. But there is something about being a father of two girls that helped put porn in it's perspective too.

Porn is an industry driven on fantasy. As Kevin Nealon put it, "I was interested, interested, interested, very interested then suddenly no interest at all." Most guys wouldn't bother with it if they couldn't picture themselves opposite of the woman.

One the surface people see the make-up, borrowed wardrobe and touched up photos. What's never seen is the dark side of porn. There isn't room for the reality when your product is make-believe. As you can in the history of Crissy (not Christy) from the clip above:

My real name is Christina, not Crissy. “Crissy” was a name that came later and just sort of stuck. I am often asked how someone like me ended up in the adult film industry. I made some really bad choices in life, and I take full responsibility for them. I won’t be able to easily escape the reminders of my past, but I know that is not who I am anymore. I have a new beginning and a chance to help others to not make the same choices. Remember, it’s not our circumstances that determine who we’ll be, but how we deal with them, and it’s never too late to change.

I was born in Jacksonville, Florida. My earliest memories begin at age four. My daddy was gentle and loving, and my favorite memories have always been of sitting in his lap with my head on his chest. It was a comfort to listen to his voice and heartbeat while he rocked me in his chair, reading his bible or singing songs. He’d tell me that he was my “Daddy,” but God was my “Father.” My mother always had a song on her heart. Everywhere she went she was singing! It seemed to calm her soul and bring her much happiness. My mom was in the church choir. When she was in the front of the church, singing, she would tell my brother and I that she wanted to hear us singing from where she sat. After church we would always discuss what we learned during the car ride home.

Even though those years were the best memories, it was also during this time that I was first molested. I was swimming over at a neighbor’s house. This family had three little boys who we played with a lot. The father began fondling me while he was carrying me around in the pool. He took me to the bathroom and continued to touch me. I was about 5 or 6 years-old. I had no idea what was happening, but I felt sort of ashamed, so I didn’t tell anyone.
[. . .]
My dad became an alcoholic. His thinking became irrational. He’d rage and lash-out at my mom. He’d go out to bars and come home with gun-shot wounds, broken knuckles, bruises and blood on him. He’d say he was preaching the Word, and someone didn’t like it. I remember wishing my parents would get divorced because I just could not stand to hear the fighting. Late one night, while my brother and I were asleep, we were wakened by my parents, fighting. The arguing was so bad, my brother and I just stayed in the room, scared to come out, crying. We heard things crashing, my dad yelling, and my mother crying and trying to plead with him. She would usually take us and go to my grandma’s, but this time, he was threatening her, so she ran out of the house without us. My dad came into our room, gave us each a trash bag and told us to put in them what we wanted to take. He then ran off with us to another part of Florida.

Be sure to read her entire story. Her history isn't that different from many others in her situation. Childhood abuse seem to be the common denominator in them.

It's easy to see why women in the sex industry have trouble when they try to leave. Fast money for little work for women who have few trade skills. When women try to quit, it's mostly low paying jobs and long hours to get by. Reality. So they drift back to the lifestyle. If they hang in long enough, they might get a job like Christy Canyon being an industry insider.

There is a certain level of determination for those wanting to leave to achieve escape velocity.

*That really was a long way to go for a bad joke on George, I will admit to that.