So You Want to Marry a Bargirl?

So you want to marry a bargirl? Do yourself a favor and read this first. I do this as a favor to the love-struck guys, not for my sisters. They would be mad if they read this. Consider this part of the penance for my sins.

I am a bargirl. I haven't worked in a bar for a few years now, but I'm still a bargirl. First, let's be honest and call it what it really is. I'm a prostitute. The fancy word doesn't change what I did.

I say that because after a certain point, you will never stop being a bargirl. Maybe, MAYBE, if you get her out of the bar within the first year, you might have a chance she isn't permanently damaged, but everyday she works there it rapidly grows more and more unlikely.

After a year or so, forget it. It's who she is. Like an alcoholic, I will never unlearn the habits I picked up working that job. I will always be a bargirl. I will always think and act like a bargirl.

Tonight, I write this story because tomorrow I will ruin the best relationship I ever had. By tomorrow night, I will be alone, entirely due to my own actions. My husband, David, doesn't deserve any of this.

Do I love David? No. I'm probably not capable of really loving anyone anymore. That's difficult but necessary to admit. Have I told him that I love him? Yes. Many times, and he believes me because we are good liars. Saying I love you is a tool we subconsciously use to get what we want.

Everyone thinks their bargirl is different, but we are all the same. We are good actresses. It us our job to be. I sell my body, but more importantly I sell a fantasy. I'm damn good at it. Your bargirl did the same thing. If you believe she is different, it's because she is also a good liar.

Tomorrow I will tell David I'm pregnant. 4 months along, I will start showing soon, so I have to tell him. The baby is not his. He thinks I have been a good wife. I haven't been because I've never really left the bar. I will always be a bargirl.

Sure, he brought me to the US, far away from the bar. I came to live in his town. It is nice here. He not only encouraged me to reach out to the other Filipinas living nearby, he helped me find them.

There is a military base here, so lots of Filipina brides close by. David thinks they are good people. Maybe some of them are, but most are bargirls just like me. He is naïve. Their husband's are naïve also. They don't see the signs. We are all still bargirls. We pretend we left it behind in the Philippines but we can't really ever leave it behind.

Let me give you a tip. If she has tattoos (I have four) she is a bargirl. David literally carried me to the lions den himself, thinking it was safe. He thinks all we do is hang out together, eat and talk about home. Sometimes I tell him we went dancing as a cover if anyone sees me in the club. Innocent fun, right?

What we really do is go out, find a guy and fuck. Every one of us. Eight of us, all cheating on our SO's. That is how it works. The older ones teach the younger ones. It's like a herd mentality. It can't be that bad if we are all doing it, right?

They gave me ecstasy. They taught me black guys have the biggest dicks. They told me how to fool David. It wasn't forced upon me, and I didn't resist either. I hadn't been in the US two weeks before I had cheated on him the first time.

It's fun. I'm not going to lie. Take some X, get buzzed and fuck for 2 hours. I have so many orgasms I lose count sometimes. I like bigger guys. Sure, if you had never fucked anyone else, you would probably be perfectly satisfied with a five inch guy. I can cum with that, but it just isn't as good. I don't think about the consequences, just the fun.

It's who I am. I am a bargirl. I have trouble prioritizing my feelings. Yes, I should have some kind of loyalty to David. I also feel like that guy across the bar would be a fun fuck. I can't really make one more important than the other in my own mind. It is how the bar damaged me. I only think about what I want.

The temptation is too constant. To relentless. Outside of the bar in the Philippines, I am an outcast. Any Filipino worth a damn would not date me. They know I'm a whore. They would fuck me because I'm hot, but not date me. Foreigners don't seem to believe it. They think they can save me. Guy after guy tries to get me to date him.

In the US, I'm like a star. It goes to your head. I'm a typical Filipina. Small and dark, but they love it. I get so much attention. Black guys especially seem to never give up. If I were to keep track, I bet 75% of the guys who hit on me are black. I don't know why. But they are easy to get. If I want a good fuck, it takes almost no effort at all.

Probably how I ended up in this position. I give in to temptation too easily. I think they fuck me stupid. Literally destroy my ability to think straight. Two orgasms in, and I no longer have the desire or ability to say no to anything. You want to take the condom off? OK. You want to fuck my ass? Sure, why not? You want to put it in my mouth after cumming in my butt? Go ahead. I have no shame or conscience. Just the desire to get the next orgasm. Looking at it from the outside is pretty embarrassing how weak I am.

Do I regret it? Definitely. The problem is, I'm not sure I could resist temptation even if I tried my best to. That is really the main point I'm trying to get you to understand. It's not so much a choice anymore. I lack the ability to say no.

Am I a slut and a bad person? Yes. I don't deny it. But I still regret my actions. I really, really do wish I could be a normal wife. Happy to stay at home and raise my family. But I can't. I can't be something I'm not. My life will be difficult now. I know that.

So tomorrow I tell David everything. I won't make excuses or ask for forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I like him enough to be honest with him. He will dump me, and I deserve it. That's the only outcome, and it's predetermined, so no sense trying to bullshit him.

To the outside world, I will land on my feet. I'll trick some other guy into supporting me until he catches me cheating on him too. I know it's coming, but I will still follow that path. I can't pull myself out of it.

Meanwhile, inside I die a little more. I will lose another piece of the person I used to be. I was a happy child. We were poor, yes, but I was loved. My father left but my mother took good care of me. I had potential a long time ago. I wasted every bit of it.

So if you still think your bargirl is different, then I wish you good luck. You are going to need it. Otherwise, get out while you can. There is no happy ending down that road.