Memoirs: I wonder if what I am involved in now is the porn extortion that was reported in the news.
I have a piece of photograph in my hand.
In the framed picture, I am wearing my high school uniform and holding my diploma, smiling awkwardly.
My mother is smiling proudly beside me. My mother was proud of the fact that I went to a famous private university.
That day, I was looking at this picture in a hopeless mood.
A-chan, you are a big sister, so you are very strong.
My mother repeated this to me at every opportunity, as if to remind me.
She said, "You are a hardworking, firm girl.
I was happy to be praised like that, but at the same time I felt bitter. Because I always had to be a serious, hard-working, firm, and good girl.
I was walking downtown when I was stopped and pestered to become a model. He asked me if I would just listen to him for a few minutes.
It was supposed to be a simple conversation at a coffee shop, but the next thing I knew, the conversation had progressed to a photo shoot at a studio.
Why couldn't I refuse going on to that point? If you had been firm, wouldn't they have taken advantage of you?
People may blame me for that, but "the big sister" was a good, solid girl. It's true. She used honorifics as if she were an adult, and she had a reputation among my relatives.
Even that day, I was trying to be polite and tried to refuse the offer quietly.
But I couldn't do it. A proper response was meaningless in the face of the aggressive way the conversation proceeded.
The "firmness" I had been praised for was powerless in the face of someone whose goal was to deceive. It was only later that I learned that my "firmness" was being used against me.
In the studio, I was surrounded by a number of grown men, and that alone frightened me.
I was scared.
I was told that it was like a photo ID to operate as a model, but as I was told to wear this and take off that, the percentage of skin exposed gradually increased, and before I knew it, the trend was such that I had to wear a bathing suit.
I don't want to change into something like that. I absolutely don't.
I thought so, but someone with a camera in his hand was rushing me.
"Hurry up and get changed."
"Why aren't you changing? Why don't you change your clothes?"
The man holding the camera blurts out to the people around him.
"What's going on?"
What's wrong with this girl?"
He sighs on his shoulder and makes eye contact with the people by his side.
--What a child with no common sense. She should have agreed to come to the studio once. She is irresponsible and has no regard for other people's troubles. She's going to be 20 years old soon.
I could see in the eyes of the men that they were blaming me for this.
I stood in front of the camera wearing a swimsuit that barely covered my body and looked like a string. I couldn't stand to see their eyes on me, so I let them take pictures of me topless.
I was surprised when I was shown the finished photos.
The photo, which was taken while I was trying to hold back the urge to cry, had the best smile of all the photos taken in my life.
It was as if she was enjoying being naked. It was as if she was even excited from a sense of freedom.
No matter how you look at it, it just looks that way.
I was ordered to reshoot the photo many times, and I was able to take it while smiling as hard as I could. They complimented me on my good looks, and I smiled hard. And I laughed because I wanted to be thought of as a child with common sense.
The threats began the next day.
What would your parents think if I showed this picture to them and they divulged it to you?
For me, my smile was a deadly weapon. It was the smile that cut off my life line.
So I thought, "Let's die." "Let's hurry up and die."
I was a serious, solid, hard-working child, whom my father and mother believed in. I had to die quickly while they still believed in me.
Looking at the graduation pictures, I hated my mother.
If she hadn't said I was strong, and hardworking, I could have talked to her about it. Why do I have to be so strong, firm, and hardworking? Why? Why can't I even rely on my mother?
As I was being cornered, there was a memory that came back to me.
It was the recent news about porn extortion.
I wondered if what I was involved in now was exactly what was being reported in the news.
While searching news sites, I found this article.
Actresses exploited in pornography: Interview with a support group, Part 2
https://mainichi.jp/articles/20170209/k00/00m/040/014000c
Since you asked me to write about where I first encountered PAPS, I will mention it here in this short memoir.
It was my "solid" self that pushed me into a corner, but it was also my "solid" self that helped me by checking the news frequently.
At the time, I blamed myself and focused only on my own failings, but now, looking back calmly, I want to praise myself. The thing I want to praise the most is that I didn't have the courage to die. I was a coward.
It may sound strange, but it is true.
The courage to die is nothing to admire. Even if I had such courage, what would I have gained? In exchange for the weakness of not being able to die, I gained strength. It was the true strength and courage needed to live.
After consulting with PAPS, I was barely able to escape from being in porn.
If I had only tried to muster up the courage to die, I would not have been able to grasp the peace and contentment that I have now. Using my courage as a foothold.
Spring will soon come.
One year from now, I will graduate. Under the cherry blossoms in full bloom, I will have my graduation picture taken with my mother. What kind of smile will I have on my face then?
Someday I want to tell my mother.
I want to tell her that your daughter is a girl I can be really proud of. I will tell her that she has faced her difficulties well. She's strong and solid, isn't she?
I don't know when I will be able to tell her.
Someday, I want to tell my mother. I want to tell her about your daughter.
