Lilly

Lilly’s green eyes dance with mischief, discovery and joy. They’ve also silently cried rivers of sorrows.

She is wild and free, a flower child with long blonde hair arranged loosely and creatively, eclectic bohemian attire refashioned from thrift buys and an attraction to a kaleidoscope of spiritual leanings. She is also a contemplative woman yearning to find solid ground after a life upended.

Lilly is not her real name, but she is real. Beautiful, lithe, poised, and thoughtful. And this is her story – a story, she says, that is not unlike the stories of other women who have worked in Fort Wayne’s gentleman’s clubs.

“You’ve passed us in the same grocery store and we might even go to your church,” she says. “We’re human beings. We’re among you. We’re mothers, we’re daughters, we’re sisters. We’re just trying to survive like everyone else.”

For Lilly and many other young women like her, they’ve also walked a path of darkness.

Her father, Lilly says, was physically and emotionally abusive, hitting her often and calling her foul names – the worst kind of names someone can call a girl or a woman – and telling her she was the biggest disappointment of his life. Her mother, who loved her children and tried hard to give them a good life, struggled with alcohol and was at times unpredictable: nice one day, angry the next, sometimes lethargic, sometimes inattentive. Lilly’s parents divorced when she was three and in the ensuing years she bounced from one to the other.  

Lilly says she began being molested as a young girl and was raped after she reached adulthood. When she was 14, she lost her virginity to a boy at school. When she was 19 and a high school dropout, she had a son with a man who was disinterested in being a father.  Lilly and her son lived with her father for a time to make ends meet-- until she could take his abuse no longer. When she was 22, on her own and supporting her son, she became an exotic dancer.

It was all about the money, she says. She didn’t fancy the men who fancied her. She was simply adept at making the men in the clubs feel special, and that provided financial sustenance for Lilly and her son.

“It was all for me and my son,” she says. “So we could have shelter away from the abuse of my father.”  

She thought, mistakenly, that she was emotionally strong enough to survive in the sexually charged atmosphere of the clubs. Instead, she slipped farther away from centered. She drank every night during her work shifts to disassociate herself from what she was doing. An initial glow of empowerment – of being in control – faded.

“A lot of things that happened in that environment damaged me,” she says. “I took a step backwards. I became drained – mentally, physically, spiritually. Even now, I can hardly hug people I know and love. I’ve given so much energy and had so much energy latch onto me and taken from me. I gave so much to strangers.”

She lost, in her words, a sense of sacredness.

One experience during her three years of exotic dancing put her in great jeopardy. She made the mistake of accepting a date – again to make money – from a man who frequented one of the clubs and he and another woman essentially kidnapped her. It was clear to Lilly they were up to something as the man drove the city’s streets. It was even more evident when the woman, sitting in the back seat, said to her: “Don’t worry honey, you’re with us now.” Lilly knew she had to get away and when the car slowed, Lilly unlocked one of the car’s doors, jumped out and ran.

“I didn’t know where they were taking me, but I knew it wasn’t going to be good,” she says. “I was at risk of being raped, trafficked, or murdered.”

Lilly eventually left the exotic dancing arena at the age of 24 and one year later, and now a friend of Made Strong Ministries, she believes she is at the peak of healing – of breaking free from the chaos that conditioned her. She is ascending to the light of goodness, she says.

She is a singer/songwriter when time permits and in one of her songs, she sings: “I want to live and love and grow. I want to pray and heal and know.”

“I want to be in the light,” she says. “I’m praying more, listening to my intuition and heart more, trying to avoid that instant gratification that may feel good in the moment but may be harmful in the long run. God is my reminder that I determine my fate and destiny.”

She also wants women still in the adult entertainment industry to know “she is thinking of them and that they can be loved, supported and validated. There are outlets, like Made Strong Ministries, to help you find more stability and safety.”

Written by: Rick Farrant