Missing Porn

A few months ago, I was out with a friend of mine at the NYC gay bar, The Monster. We got to talking about my life since I retired from studio-based porn, and he asked me a very simple question that you would have thought that since my retirement in September 2009, one of my post-porn interviewers would have asked me by now.

About my no longer doing porn, he asked me, "Do you miss it?"

Like I said, a very simple question. However, something inside me realized at that moment that for someone who prides themselves on being honest with themselves and on this blog, it didn't have a very simple answer. Which is why I refrained from my giving the 1st response that popped in my head which was, 'Hell, no!' But knowing that's the easy answer, I kept it inside.

Being as detailed-oriented as I am, this requires more explanation that a simple "yes" or "no". So while I answered my friend in less than 15 seconds after he asked, my explanation of the thoughts that went through my mind to lead up to my answer will take longer.

Initially, I must confess that there is an aspect to the porn industry that I do miss. That is the attention and adoration of fans for my being such an exhibitionist. But it's short-lived when the honesty I pride myself on reminds me as to how part of the reason I came to leave studio-based porn is because I realized that attention and adoration is in some way fake. For the attention and adoration is all underground. Especially due to the sexual repression of Americans, you can't be out and proud about admiring a pornstar the way you could a Hollywood celebrity who can be just as much a troubled soul. So while most porn actors are in it looking for approval, the screams and shouts feeding their egos by personal appearances in clubs, bars and porn-related events, to the world at large, it's just a hush - when compared to those for their mainstream counterparts.

And while the attention and adoration is in a way fake, it in turn causes a chain of fake behavior in others. For I have had some people end their friendships with me on Facebook. Anyone who knows how I do my updates there knows that I don't tag people in adult-oriented status updates, or post on their walls unless they themselves make it obvious that they work in adult entertainment. And anyone who knows how to use Facebook knows that tags and direct postings are the only way people you might not want to make privy to that info would discover it. Yet some people who met me either through my involvement in porn, or knew of it when they friended me show themselves to fake purity by removing me without me ever tagging them or personally posting something on their Facebook wall.

More things that flashed through my mind in that less than 15 seconds were behavior patterns I saw from various porn studios. Such as studios like Falcon telling me that they'll call when there's a role where I'm a "good fit", only for me to see a White version of myself in a trailer, or on a DVD cover. Or Lucas Entertainment wasting my time with numerous trips to their office, and only using more Black models now because mine and others' proven claims of Michael Lucas' racism were starting to bite him in the ass. Or Channel 1 Releasing interested in me only if I lived in California, or making my way there on my own, but allegedly known to be willing to pay for the transportation of a White wanna-be-pornstar. Or FlavaWorks willing to pay $100,000 to a rapper to only pose nude, yet pay 3-digits (a.k.a. peanuts) to their models who put themselves at greater health risks by having full-on sex. Or porn actors and bloggers with their contradictory allegiances. Or porn actors who in private will pat me on the back for being so upfront about all the behind-the-scenes bullshit, but in public are quick to leave me standing on my own in the comments sections of websites like The Sword, and Gay Porn Times.

All these instances and more flooded through my brain in the less than 15 seconds I tried to find the right words to reply to my friend asking me, "Do you miss it?"

In reply, instead of rehashing all those details, I gave him the short version telling him, "Initially, I think I do. But when I recall all the bullshit that I've seen and been told. I have to say,...

FUCK NO!!!!"

Now, I don't regret my getting into the porn industry. Even though while by the present handling of it, I look at it as a mistake for anyone to do, I feel it is a mistake that we are destined to make. And when we've matured more into living for our true purpose, we will leave it behind a great deal.

This is not to say that I can ever fully leave the porn industry behind where I won't comment after being made privy to the latest going-ons of it. After all, the reason I don't regret my getting into the porn industry is because it is my involvement in the porn industry that gave me a platform for my voice, LeNair's voice, to be heard ---- even though it was under the guise of porn actor, "Tré Xavier".

I have done what sadly too few other porn actors have done. I have used my porn persona as a way for my voice to get closer to the mainstream as I had hoped for before entering porn. While I am now being invited to readings like "Red Umbrella Diaries" for past and present sex workers, I am also creating my own well-received poetry series and having readings in more mainstream venues. As well as most recently, being asked to be a featured speaker on more mainstream issues like racism in the LGBT community for the group MACT/NY. The stereotypical leeches in the porn industry didn't get me to this point, but their being dumb enough to fight me helped. Take this as me seeing and riding on the silver lining of the dark cloud that is studio-based porn.

So while studio-based porn has for the most part lowered itself to becoming what I call "visualized prostitution", I can't in good sense and self-respect miss being a part of it. My initial idea of missing it comes from me missing my ideal of studio-based porn. An ideal replaced by the sad reality of how it is plagued by the presence of more social and/or career rejects (like I was), instead of well-adjusted exhibitionists (like I am now).


Photo from Next Door Magazine September 2011 issue