London, UK

Been trying to write this blog about London, UK for most of the weekend - Not sure what to say - I did not have a great time. I wish that I never went. If you read this blog often, I am sure you have noted that I am a bit too trusting at times. This is a quality that I both despise and cherish. While I do put myself in situations that are uncomfortable... usually, I can stumble through them. I test myself with them, learn from them - It helps me to understand who I am better - I take more chances than I probably should. And yes, maybe someday I will end up dead somewhere. But most people are good people, if I approached life thinking otherwise - I would not be who I am.

The day that I flew into London, one of blog readers from Becker's blog, picked me up at the airport! He booked a trendy hotel in downtown Soho to shoot in. And afterwards, he took me out exploring the city. Even though it was "just a bridge," he gave into my pleas to explore the famous Harry Potter Millennium bridge - We visited London bridge, London eye from a distance, grabbed some Bitters at a great little pub on the Thames. Wandered around Piccadilly Circus.

The guy who booked my trip to London picked me up on Friday  - I spent most of my weekend in constant fear after he took away my passport and threatened to cancel my flight home if I did not work with him - We had agreed to playboy styled nudes - but I walked into a situation with strap-on-dildos, a naked photographer in the woods, a male-model getting caned on the floor... Since I signed a contract saying that I would work with this 'photographer' four hours every day from Friday-Monday evening. Spent most of my freetime sleeping until Noon, drinking myself into a near coma at the local pubs or reading my books, trying to submerge myself into any other world other than the one I was in. The 'p

hotographer' had a print-out of my limitations, and yet, I found myself being pushed again and again - Acting out perverse fantasies.  He just enjoyed watching me suffer.

There was no sex, but it felt even more disgusting than bodily harm - I felt emotionally manipulated, in a heightened state of fear and anxiety.

By Monday morning, I shut-down completely. I barely felt like a human being anymore. I kept checking my phone, hoping 6pm would happen so I could get my passport and my flight ticket home - I am 100% sure that he would have been vindictive enough to cancel my ticket home if I did not follow through with working with him. If I learned anything on this trip, it is that I will absolutely NEVER let a photographer buy my ticket to another country EVER again in my LIFE! Ever. I was on edge every-second I was there. I am shaking while I write this post. I feel damaged.

I would want to go into detail about what happened in the UK, I do (the world should know about the dark side of the modeling industry) - but I am not going to. The 'photographer' reads this blog. I just want to put all of this behind me. This trip broke me. And it will take me a long time to put all my pieces back together.