My Trip to the Whorehouse and Why I Had to Go!

(Disclaimer: This is a bit of a risque topic. I share my life with you in hopes that it may inspire you to live your life to the fullest. Sometimes I share “questionable” stuff, like right now. No judging, no negative comments. You’ve been warned)

I’m a curious creature.

I wanna know everything all the time. What’s that? Why did that happen? Where are you going? (ok maybe that one is just me being nosey) Why? When? Where? What? Who? I need all the answers to all those questions, mostly all the time. I’m not sure if I’ve always been like this but I’m totally like this now. Quite honestly, it’s kinda fun, mind you, it does get me in trouble sometimes and every now and then I find myself in interesting places and situations.

You only live once, though, right?

So that being a good motto to live by, the “yolo” motto, I’m on a mission to discover as much as I possibly can about ALL kinds of things. Even taboo things 😮

For many years, too many years, I’ve been told no. No Iva you can’t do this. No Iva, you can’t do that. No Iva, that’s bad. No Iva, people will talk about you. No no no no. Iva was desperately trying to do the right thing all the time so people would accept her and she would fit in. (typing that makes me shudder)

3 years ago, that all changed. Iva said “Fuck all of you and let me live my life, dammit!!!” I was 52 years old and was ready to live life on my terms, the way I wanted to, not the way I was supposed to by a smothering society.

And off I went.

For my first trick I sold all my shit, packed two suitcases, bought a one way ticket and moved to a country I knew nothing about, simply because a tea leaf reader told me to. Yup. That’s how I ended up in Guatemala.

Let the good times begin.

The secret room.

There are couple of secret rooms here in the little town I live in. I know what goes on in the secret room. I mean, I already know what sort of establishment it is. I walk by it every single day. For the most part, I don’t give it a second thought. The only time I ever really think about going in is when I am at the bar across the street with my friends on a Saturday night and I’m really drunk.

I’m always so curious.

The questions come every time. Who? What? Why? I need to go see. They dare me to go often but I chicken out each time until one night, after too many shots of tequila, I don’t back down anymore. I’m ready to go to the secret room.

(judge free zone remember?)

I grab my friend “John” (not his real name) and away we go. The guy at the door should be patting me down but he looks at me, almost blushes and lets us go in. And in we go.

Behind the curtain, to the secret room, to the whorehouse.

But why Iva, why?

I’m nervous, anxious, excited and way too drunk for my own good. It’s dark, of course, and it’s packed. Several scantily clad working women and lots and lots of men. It’s smelly, it’s hot, it’s loud and the energy is high.

I walk through with my friend and someone yells out my name. Oh….my….God. I forget this is a small town sometimes. It’s my drug dealer friend (well, that came out wrong). Ironic? I think not. Embarrassing? Not really. It’s all in good fun. Or….is it?

So why am I there? Why was it so important for me to go into the whore house? What was the big deal? Was it simply out of curiosity or was it for much more than that?


Because there is another side of life. A darker side of life where people are lost, lonely and broken. Another side where everyone just wants to feel loved, needed, wanted or get some attention and affection and…they pay for it. Lucky for them, there are also people who charge for it.

Because part of me secretly wants to know what that dark place is like. I live in a rainbow world filled with butterflies and lollipops and sometimes I need to pull my head out of my ass and see that not everyone has the beautiful life I have.

Because when I see dark and broken things and people, it reminds me of how truly blessed I am and how amazing my life really is.

So what’s this all about?

So why am I telling you all this? I mean, seriously, who even admits to going to a whore house? I do because I bare all in my stories and my life. We’re all friends here, amirite?

I’m telling you this because we live in such a negative unaccepting society where we are all so quick to point fingers and judge and look down on people. Who are we to do that? Every person in that place has a story, just like you and I. I don’t wish for people to judge me on my past, nor do I have any right to judge people on theirs. The simple fact I even went in to the whore house doesn’t make me any less of a person. Does it? Of course not!

People are people and we all want the same things: love, acceptance, affection and companionship. For some, it’s at any cost. Don’t judge.

Bartender, another shot of tequila please (as if I got recognized in the whorehouse!).

Peace and love

xo iva xo

Self help Guru|Expat|Website: mini self help eBook series here:

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