My Ex Wanted to Get Back Together, But on One Horrible Condition
By: Erin Taylor
Tags: Relationships, Feminism, Sexuality, Strippers, Love

I decided to confront him and ask him to leave. I swore I’d stay cool, calm, collected. But when I walked towards him in a skintight black one-piece thong body suit, fishnet leggings, and seven-inch heels, I knew I didn’t look like his ex. I sure didn’t feel like his ex. I looked and felt like a stripper.

I didn’t want to have a conversation about us or our relationship while I was in character as “Vanessa”. When I was Vanessa, I talked differently, smiled differently, and had a different life story. I flirted heavily, I touched often, and I never stopped smiling.

It was emotionally exhausting trying to separate those two nightly, and now, my two worlds had collided in the middle of the club.

I walked towards the table and greeted him with a smile while grinding my teeth uncontrollably.

“What are you doing here?” I asked with a hand on my hip and the other hand grasping my drink.

“I’m here to see you,” Mark said. “I need to apologize for everything. I want you back. God, you look amazing.”

“You want to get back together?” I asked, with my head cocked to the side. This was the first time I’d heard from Mark in months. Not a single text message or DM.

It was almost as if he was so sure this was going to work that he didn’t bother checking to see if I was in town first. He wanted to do this grand romantic gesture. And honestly, if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I probably wouldn’t believe this stunt to be true.

“Mark, you said you’d never come to the club. I need you to leave. I really don’t want to have this conversation here while I’m working.”

Coming to see me at work was the only thing I’d asked him not to do when we ended our relationship, and he broke his promise.

“So quit. I want you to quit your job. We should be together but you can’t be a stripper anymore. I can’t look at you like this. You’re so much better than this place.”

I laughed. I wasn’t quitting my job for anyone, let alone an ex who couldn’t “look at me like this.”

Did he really think this was going to work?

“You need to go home.”

“If you quit this job and get a regular job, we’d be perfect. Please, don’t give up on us. No couple can survive this type of stress. Anyone who says otherwise is lying. No guy who loves you wants to see you doing this,” he pleaded.

I stared, dumbfounded.

“Do you think that quitting my job would fix us? Do you really think that I want to be with someone who can’t stomach dating a stripper? There’s nothing wrong with what I do, I’m happy. But I can’t be with someone who isn’t.”

I noticed people were staring at us now. It was a mistake to have this conversation in public, and of all places, the strip club. But I couldn’t hold back. I was exhausted from having this same conversation with all my exes.

My job as a stripper wasn’t the problem. And if someone thought me quitting my job and life as I knew it was going to make us the perfect couple, they were out of their minds.

I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t believe that I actually liked my job — many people didn’t. I didn’t hold it against him. This world wasn’t for everyone.

But I would never quit my job for anyone, not a friend, not a family member, not a romantic partner. The only reason I quit stripping after four years is because I was ready to move on with my life — not because anyone asked me to.

“I do not understand how you found me here, or why you thought giving me an ultimatum for our relationship was a good idea. I’m sorry, but I’m going to walk away now. I hope when I come back to this side of the club, you’ll be gone.”

I walked away and straight into the locker room. I was visibly upset. But not because I missed Mark or because I wanted to get back together. I was tired of meeting guys like him. His circumstantial proposal for us to get back together was nothing new to me — most guys I dated were not comfortable with my job and would do anything to get me to quit being a dancer.

After Mark, I realized the power I had with this job, not over anyone else, but myself. I was free; I was sexually liberated, I was in charge of myself, and I didn’t need to stay in shitty relationships just to be happy.

Those reasons gave me more of a push to continue working at my job because stripping was the only thing in my life that gave me freedom to be myself. It was what I cherished the most during that time of my life, and I would not quit this lifestyle for a relationship. That just wasn’t who I was.

© Erin Taylor 2020. All Rights Reserved.