Truth Behind the Fantasy of Porn

by Shelley Lubben

  “Where do you live?” I asked.

  “I live with my parents in Chino.”

  Oh shit, I was right, I thought. He lives with his parents.

  I couldn’t believe I let some innocent pastor boy into my life. How did I not see this? How did this get past me? I started to freak. The demons in me were not happy.

  “Shelley, do you believe in God?”

  Dang, he wants to talk about God. I had a terrible feeling I was being set up.

  “Of course I believe in God. I was raised in Sunday School when I was a little girl.” Something inside of me lit up because I spent the next fifteen minutes going on and on about God. It was probably the speed.

  “And then I was in a church play called, ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ and I played Faithful, the pilgrim who is Christian’s friend from the City of Destruction.”

  “Wow, I know that story. You played Faithful?” he asked.

  “Yeah, and I even memorized the alphabet backwards when I sang the Z to A song. In fact, God told me when I was nine years old that the guy I would marry someday would be able to say the alphabet backwards as fast as I could.”

  Without hesitation he said:

  “ZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA.”

  We both just stared at each other.

  Furious, I stood up and told him to get out.

  I never wanted to see him again. I ran upstairs to my bedroom and frantically stared into my reflection in the mirror for some answers.

  Come on, Shelley, use your psychic abilities.

  POOF, HE’S HERE!

  XV

  Admit One

  Invaded by Love

  Chapter Fifteen

  Under no circumstances was I going to marry him. Years and years of buried pain protected by the rock-solid wall around my black heart; I was impenetrable.

  I shoved the thought of Gary out of my mind and ran back to the lies and mental illness, the familiar dark world where I felt safe: a world without love and light. I turned off my phone and ripped the curtains closed. I would have nothing to do with him.

  I went upstairs to take a shower to wash away whatever Gary had deposited into me. The stream of hot water on my face, tears poured out of my eyes. I missed him.

  The low voice hissed at me, “We don’t need him. Get him out of your mind. Remember your bottle of Jack Daniels behind the toilet?”

  I grabbed the bottle and guzzled it down. The warm feeling washed over my body and I dried off and collapsed into bed. Shoving my face into the pillow, I cried myself to sleep.

  “Mommy, are you okay?” a small voice woke me.

  “Hey honey, Mommy just took a little nap. What do you want?” I said as I rubbed my eyes.

  “There’s a man at the door with a box.”

  “What??” I was irritated. It was probably one of my sugar daddies breaking the rules again. They knew better than to come over here without calling.

  Idiots.

  Half-drunk and angry, I headed downstairs and ripped open the door and shouted, “What are you doing here!”

  The voice behind the box replied, “I brought you a box of rags. I came over to clean your house.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  Gary walked right into my world and over to the table where he set down a box of neatly folded white towels. He looked up and smiled at me with a rag in his hand while I stood there and stared.

  “Shelley, I feel bad for you. Your house is really messy. You need someone to take care of you.”

  Then he vanished around the corner and suddenly I heard water running.

  I felt a terrible blow to my chest. Pain radiated up my spine through my neck to my face and jaws. I sat down on the couch and grabbed a cigarette out of the ashtray. Frantically trying to light it, I gasped the airy smoke into my lungs.

  I can’t do this, I thought as gray smoke blew out of me. Rocking back and forth on my couch with arms folded around me, a terrible feeling washed over me. I need air, I thought.

  I walked outside on the porch looking around for anything that made sense. There was no comfort. There was no way out of this horrible pain. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Shelley, are you okay?” A figure out of the smoke came towards me.

  It was Gary. I stepped back. I was desperately afraid of him.

  “Stay there. I don’t feel comfortable.”

  “Shelley, it’s just me, it’s Gary. I don’t want to hurt you. Please…”

  “No, back off.” I scowled and threw my cigarette on the ground and stepped on it.

  I ran upstairs to my bedroom and locked the door and hid beneath the bed sheets.

  Shaking and frightened by the intense pain, I cried out to God, “God, take it away. Please God, take it away.” The voices started yelling at me:

  Stupid whore. No one will ever love you. He will use you and hurt you just like everyone else did. Get away from him!

  Another Voice interrupted, “Shelley, be still and know Me. Gary has been sent by Me to help you. It’s time.”

  “Time? For what?” I asked the Voice. I waited for an answer but it was silent. Even the other voices were gone now.

  I sat up and stared in the mirror at the ugly woman looking back at me. Blonde hair extensions sticking out of my dark roots with dark circles under my eyes, I was a horrible wreck. How could Gary even want to be near such a mess?

  He would leave me, I just knew it. I had to protect myself. I put on my false front face and acted like I didn’t care. I went downstairs to end the whole thing.

  “Gary, I…”

  He turned around with the most angelic smile and a perfect shiny kitchen behind him.

  “Yes?”

  I was speechless. My heart melted and the evil within me recoiled. He walked toward me, touched my face and kissed me softly. A spongy warm sluggish kiss, I wanted to eat his lips. I hadn’t been softly kissed by a man in years.

  Our beautiful kiss ended and I buried my head in his chest and wept bitterly. Huge tears of shattered years gushed out of my eyes and the forceful pain of Rejection, Rage and Hatred rose up from deep within. I violently pushed him away and pulled out my hair.

  “I hate you!!! I hate them!!!” I grabbed the phone and threw it. I threw the trash can. I punched the couch. I spit. I hit. I kicked. I hated them!

  “I hate them! I hate men! I hate all of you! Go to hell f—kin’ losers!” I threw my seashell across the room. Gary was shocked but held his ground.

  “Stay the f—k away from me! F—k you!” I screamed violently at him. The evil inside of me was so fuming mad and all hell broke loose inside of me.

  “F—k you, loser. You liar. I hate you. Get away from me!”

  I grabbed a knife in the kitchen and fiercely aimed it at him. Pointing at him full of rage, I told him to get the hell out and stay out forever.

  “Get the hell away from me, NOW!” Wild strands of bleached hair in my face, I panted like a ferocious animal.

  “Shelley, I love you. I love you. I love you. I’m not giving up on you.”

  The knife slipped out of my hand.

  My body fell to the floor and I wept.

  His overwhelming love crucified me. It shredded the very core of every deception I held dear and did the unthinkable: it gave me hope. For the first time in over seventeen years I felt hope in my heart.

  A massive wreck on the floor, Gary held me close in his arms and wholeheartedly prayed.

  “Lord, I ask you to heal Shelley; to heal every wound from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. I know you can do it, Jesus. In your name I pray, amen.”

  It was the prayer that changed my life forever.

  The one that God heard and hell listened to.

  And the war for my life began.

  XVI

  Admit One

  Marrying Magdalene

  Chapter Sixteen

  A heart-shaped ring, I said yes. I wasn’t attracted to him. I didn’t really love him. But he loved me. That was what mattered. Besides, wh
ere else would I find a guy who wanted to marry a washed up porn star with Herpes and a kid?

  “Shelley, please marry me. God sent me to you.”

  Does God know I’m a bitch?

  We drove to Norwalk, California, on a harsh winter’s day on February 14th, 1995. There was no white wedding, only a cloudy gray one. The cold steps of the court house were every little girl’s nightmare. I especially thought the homeless guy would have made a good flower girl.

  As usual, I was in a bad mood that day.

  “Are you sure we don’t have to have an appointment? It’s probably too busy today.” I tried to think of ways to get out of it. Reality hit me after that first kiss and I realized this was never going to work.

  “No, we don’t have to have an appointment. It’s the Valentine’s Day Special today. They’re offering marriages all day.”

  Great, the Valentine’s Special. Gee, what a lucky girl I am, I sarcastically thought.

  Dressed in a torn black floral dress, I looked like I was going to a funeral. Yeah, my funeral, I thought.

  We stood in line and then it was our turn.

  “Hello, may I please see your photo I.D.s?” the lady behind the cracked window asked.

  “Sure,” I said unenthusiastically as I handed her our I.D.s and the application. I was the one in charge of course.

  “How much for a marriage license?” I asked smugly with a look of disgust on my face.

  “That’ll be thirty-five dollars please.”

  I choked on my spit.

  “Wait, how much did you say?”

  “That’ll be thirty-five dollars please.”

  Damn, I thought. That’s how much I got paid for my first trick!

  Then a Voice spoke to my heart, “Thirty-five dollars to get into the sex industry and thirty-five dollars to get out.”

  Only God could have known that.

  I lowered my head and looked down at my tattered shoes. Could God really be rescuing me? I was so dirty and unworthy.

  Gary took my hand and led me upstairs to a bright white hall where other couples waited against the wall for their number to be called. I stopped and stared at the wall contemplating the huge life decision before me. Evil voices tried to talk me out of it. Gary saw my struggle and squeezed my hand harder and said, “You can do this, Shelley.”

  “I can’t do this, Gary. I can’t.” I cringed under my breath and turned my pale face into the white wall. Gary put his arms around me from behind and whispered gently, “You can do this, Shelley. God is with us.”

  The voices in my head argued, “You’re too sick. He will leave you. He doesn’t know how sick you are. When he finds out about you, he will leave you. Hurry, run now!

  A terrible sick feeling washed over me and I felt like throwing up. The voices were right. Gary didn’t know what he was marrying. He didn’t know about my sick and twisted sexual abuse. He didn’t know how bad my addictions were. He didn’t know I was a manipulator and liar. He didn’t really know me. He had no understanding of the powerful hold Satan had on my life. It was a war he wasn’t ready for.

  “Gary, we can’t do this. It’s not fair to you. I am not who you think I am. I am much worse. I have so many demons. I will hurt you.”

  “Shelley, you can never hurt me. I love you. God is with us.”

  “I can’t,” I insisted as I tugged on his shirt and lowered my face into his chest.

  A voice came out of the room, “Number 15.”

  They called our number. I looked up at Gary with fear in my eyes. If he wouldn’t listen to me at least I wanted him to see the terror in my eyes.

  He held my hand securely and walked me over to a black woman wearing a black gown. It was a sign, I knew it. I looked up at him in fear again. His gentle blue eyes smiled back at me.

  We repeated our vows or should I say Gary did. I was frozen in shock. All I remember is saying, “I will.” I will? I didn’t have a will. I only had death and destruction.

  We walked out of the white building into dark clouds and pouring rain. Gary interrupted the storm and asked me if I wanted a hamburger at Wendy’s next door. I shook my head no in disgust. I didn’t like eating meat.

  The mental illness rose up in me and I repulsed Gary with my bizarre request to hurry up and consummate the marriage. It was the ritualist in me. He told me to please wait until he got back home from work. He wanted to take me out to a romantic dinner and celebrate. I wanted cold hard unfeeling sex. I wanted to hate him right away.

  I got what I wanted. After we finished I pushed him off of me and told him I wanted a divorce.

  “Get away from me! I want a divorce! I hate you. You’re nothing but a male pig!”

  Pain and Abuse reared their ugly heads and threatened to throw something at him. He immediately put on his clothes and left. His face was so hurt. I knew I had hurt him. Good, I hated men.

  The evil in me was satisfied and we celebrated yet another failure in my life with our favorite bottle of relief: Jack Daniels.

  He would have left me anyway, I tried to reassure myself with splashes of Jack down my throat. But why did I have an awful feeling that I just lost the most important thing in my life? I felt sick. I wanted to throw up.

  Oh God, I thought. What have I done?

  I wanted to die. The emotional toll was too much for me and I downed most of the bottle of Jack. I laid on the floor holding and stroking my bottle. He was my only trusted friend, Jack. Drunk, I fell asleep.

  “Shelley, Shelley, wake up.” I opened my eyes to a beautiful bouquet of red roses with a big white bow hanging in my face.

  “Huh?” I tried to sit up.

  “I love you. Happy Wedding Day, honey,” Gary said as he bent down and kissed my Jack Daniels filled mouth. I felt so gross and unworthy.

  I sluggishly thanked him and told him I didn’t want to go out to dinner. I felt horrible for my awful behavior and tearfully apologized. He brushed my hair to the side and kissed my cheek.

  “It’s okay, honey. I know you’re hurting badly. I’m here for you.”

  I buried my head in his strong chest and I wailed. No one had ever loved me in my life like Gary did. No one. I never had a mother’s love. I never had a father’s love. I only knew pain and abuse since I was a small child. I dug my fingernails deep into his skin and squeezed him with every ounce of pain I had inside of me. He was my giant Cross, someone who could take my pain and let me nail it on him.

  And I nailed it hard. I pounded him with every powerful lie, expressions of rage and hatred, vulgarities and evil fits and he took it. He took the excruciating pain for me.

  He became Christ to me and I became his penitent whore, like the sinful woman with seven demons. Only I had more than seven. I had legions.

  Black dilated eyes and an evil smile against his chest, let the exorcism begin.

  XVII

  Admit One

  You and What Army?

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next few months were pure hell. Gary lost his job and had to have knee surgery. His mother tried to make him divorce me. His aunt called child protective services to try and get Tiffany taken away from us and his dad left his mom right after we got married. What are the odds?

  The devil wasn’t going to let me get away that easily.

  I wanted a divorce. Gary wanted to fight for us. So, he put down the meth and joined the United States Army.

  Army, I thought. I loved military men.

  “When do we leave?” I asked.

  “We don’t leave. I do,” he answered back.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Shelley, I have to go to Basic Training for ten weeks in South Carolina and then I have to do advanced training in San Antonio, Texas for another eight weeks. But after that we can be together.”

  What the hell was I going to do? I thought.

  I’ll tell you what I did. I did what any psychopath, ex sex worker wife would do; I went to a psychiatrist and got a doctor’s note. It was the only way to get th
e Army to let me come along during his training. Yes, I manipulated the United States Army.

  Gary wasn’t happy about my stunt at all. It must have been terrible when his Commander called him to the office to tell him the Red Cross had an emergency message from his mentally ill wife and that she needed him to come home and move her to Texas. Gary had to redo his entire schooling because of my little stunt.

  Well, I was mentally ill. It’s not like I lied or anything. I just, sort of, used it.

  Gary looked so good when I saw him. I couldn’t believe it. Two grueling months of the Army’s basic training program, Gary looked incredible! He also came back with a powerful new name: Private Garrett Lubben. The Army didn’t allow nicknames. The military had made a real man out of him!

  Garrett, I could get used to that, I thought.

  There was just one problem. Garrett was sober and all healed up. I was a cesspool of mental disorders, addiction and demonic strongholds. Not only that, Garrett had a new beautiful physique while I rapidly gained weight in recovery. I felt uglier and more unworthy than ever before.

  “There’s just more of you to love, Shelley.”

  Gee, thanks for noticing my fat. Well, at least I couldn’t go back to the sex industry. No one would hire me now.

  When we got to Texas I had to find a job. The military paid Garrett almost nothing and so the first day we arrived at Fort Sam Houston, I hiked down the street to the Sunset Lounge and got a job as a bartender.

  Finally, I was on the other end of the bar. I was a pro. Of course I was, I was a raging alcoholic. There was no drink I couldn’t concoct and customers loved me. We partied all day and night while Garrett suffered through intense military training. I only saw him every other weekend. Tiffany stayed with a babysitter in our new apartment building. Things started looking up for me.

  Unfortunately, I made a huge terrible mistake. One night when I was drunk and the cash was low, I foolishly agreed to have sex for money. In my inebriated messed up mind, I was trying to help support my family. I was also addicted to fast easy money.