I meant to post two days ago, to keep that commitment to first and third Monday of the month, and it slipped away from me. I had been contemplating about what to write and thought myself into paralysis, where nothing could be said that would sufficiently detail the experience.
It’s been over two weeks since a young porn starlet I once knew died. It’d been years since we spoke, the nature of leaving a business entirely forcing to a natural close many relationships. Yet the impact of her loss is palpable: not simply because it’s a tragic loss, but because its a stark reminder that I didn’t really know anybody in that business. For as “intimate” as we all were, I didn’t know a damn thing about anyone.
I found out Amber’s real name in the papers. Meghan Wren. She was lovely, and the articles I’ve read have speculated about a variety of causes, from drug use to uterine cancer. She was one of the girls who came out against James Deen, and accused him of rape. She’d been quoted as saying she’s since “gotten over it,” and much to his chagrin, gives him a hard time on set. As a rape survivor, I don’t know that I could/would sit in the same room as my rapist. But trauma is funny like that. Trauma reactions are just not as predictable as we’d like them to be.
I found out Hailey Page’s real name in the papers too. Maryam Irene Haley. She also was lovely, also received XRCO’s “unsung starlet” award two years before Amber, her death undetermined. I remember at the time Chico Wang being implicated in her death, and ultimately suiciding on methadone pills in a cheap motel next to milk duds and pictures of her face. They were married. There was talk of domestic violence. Word had it that Chico wasn’t allowed at her funeral. Then he went to find her on his own – if you believe in heaven and that sort of afterlife thing.
When I heard of Amber’s death, of Meghan’s death, I was struck by how sad I was. The comments under news articles were horrifying – I didn’t even have to read them all to know that she would be shamed in death. The adult business, for all it’s follies, remains an insulated community. As long as you remain in the community, you get to be safe from the judgment, social pressure, disgust of the outside world. Simply don’t look out. If you keep looking in, there is an essence of freedom, an undercurrent of autonomy. And yet, the gossamer veil of safety – an illusion produced by social acceptance, fancy things, and frequent STD testing – is still punctured by the reality of things like domestic violence, drug addiction, and cancer. My hope is that Amber – Meghan – did die peacefully, no matter the cause.
I find myself believing that it was drug related – and hoping that it was cancer. As if one is less horrific than the other. As if one would cause less pain and suffering than another. When I quit using, I began to believe that people around me would quit dying from drugs and alcohol. I am reminded that the only people who won’t die from drugs or alcohol are people who don’t use drugs or alcohol. And even then, there’s no saying that some drunk driver won’t crash into the side of my car. This isn’t depressed talk, simple recognition of loss, and the reality of a social structure in which we accept and often encourage rampant inebriation.
Since I heard of Amber’s – of Meghan’s – death, I’ve been sifting through a confusing mixture of grief and survivor’s guilt. I think this is why I’ve delayed in writing this post. I realize she didn’t “die from the business” and yet the feeling of gratitude at having survived my own career and exit is potent. I’m grateful that I get to live in a world where experiencing the pain of being human is okay. Where I don’t have to perform with a constant eye toward pleasing an audience. I’m glad to be functioning in a world where, if I have cancer or am struggling again with addiction, the industry in which I work will support me getting treatment (and approve FMLA) and healthcare will be available through my employer (even if it’s not that great).
I’m grateful that I get to use my real name, and people don’t have to wait until after my death to see how imperfectly human I am. And that’s not all to say that her experience was like mine. And yet…
RIP Meghan Wren, RIP Amber Rayne.
Earl Brenneman
April 20, 2016
Hi Jennie – I’ve read about the death of Amber (Meghan) and also her problems with James Deen. I also remember reading about the death of Haley (Maryam) ) when it happened nearly ten years ago. As you surmise, drugs were surely a part of the tragedy.
As a musician, I feel a connection to you, Amber, Maryam and others in the adult business. Musicians and actors are often “used” and “abused” for a buck. If somebody thinks they can make some money off your “talent,” you are often in situations where whatever problems and bad habits you possess, which may be killing you, are overlooked if your “performance” can make a profit for the company.
Music and porn performers are also looked upon as “outlaws” and “renegades.” They work in environments where drugs and alcohol are tolerated… part of the “outlaw” and “renegade” mystique. Because of this “anti-social” persona, behaviors which are frowned upon in the mainstream world are easily shrugged off as “normal.”
I guess what I’m trying to say is… if you are working as a rock musician or a porn actor, it may be difficult to overcome problems and bad habits that will kill you if left unattended. Perhaps, we all need to be more mindful, kind, and compassionate towards one another regardless of our work or station in life.
becomingjennie
April 20, 2016
Beautifully said Earl. Thank you for sharing this.
Dan
April 20, 2016
Jennie – your comments made my knees weak. We all suffer in some shape or form – it is our drive and redemption that carries over to a place of peace. You did it, my friend and you serve as an inspiration to myself and others that you can become “whole”. Dan
foofoo5
April 21, 2016
This is a proof of concept that things happen for a reason. I was invited to speak at a luncheon for jail & prison chaplains on Monday. As you would imagine, they were all male, predominately conservative, and appeared to have settled in on presumptions related my “scruff” factor. Whatever. One fellow in particular, however, thought it was his business to “take me to school,” taking great offense to my comments that I don’t trust a inmate’s name, while he’s having a heart attack, without his state-issued picture ID, and when a chaplain noted that inmates told him the “psychiatrist couldn’t be helpful because they were godless,” I said the last people to advise me on the quality of care would be convicted felons. So, the chaplain felt it necessary to say to me, “If your first inclination is see a fellow human being as dishonest, and not a fellow human being and God’s child, as yourself, you are in the wrong business and make a mockery of caregivers.” There was something of a dead silence before I said, “Friend, it is quite obvious you and I do not see the same type on inmates.” I asked him if he had ever sat with another human being who actually derived pleasure – and frequently sexual pleasure – from torturing another human being; who had sat relatively passive for 40-minutes, yet whose whole demeanor changed with excitement as he described his viscous crime. He had not. Had he felt the complete lack of empathy and remorse, except for getting caught; that it didn’t matter if the victim was 15-years old or 85-years old, it was equally thrilling. He had not. And could he imagine the fear he instilled in me as the examiner. He didn’t respond. I told him it was a cheap insult I did not deserve, and I walked out.
You described a similar individual above, Jennifer. And while I do not claim to be a prophet, I do believe in natural history. I have come to accept that people can mutually chose to share pain – and the keywords are “mutually” and “share” – but I certainly cannot explain it. Nevertheless, torture is a completely different matter. Deriving sexual pleasure from victimization and torture is psychopathic and akin to child sexual predation, from which, if the outcome research is correct, there is only “respite.” And for better or worse, I have had the odd juxtaposition of treating both the victims & the perpetrators at different points in my life, and I am always somehow in awe of the resiliency and courage of victims – particularly those who speak out – and the precarious existence of perpetrators that depend on the silence of victims in order to continue their behaviour. And continue they do. Is it possible Meghan Wren and a mere handful of women are the only victims? As I communicated to you previously, I met two very young women who told no one; I don’t know if they even knew each other. But they were young, intimidated, and knew not to speak. I hope they went home. And wouldn’t you just figure that the state of Utah could have saved them: http://le.utah.gov/~2016/bills/static/SCR009.html And so it goes…
el_ay_es
May 24, 2016
foofoo5–I have said what I wanted to say to Jennifer Ketcham in another thread. If what you said is that you regard Amber Rayne–Meghan Wren–as a victim outside of the horrible thing that appears to have happened the once with James Deen http://www.deathandtaxesmag.com/272455/amber-rayne-james-deen-assault-on-set/–if that is what you meant, that you think she was a victim in general, then I say to you that you do not seem to have been acquainted with people who are part of the BDSM community, particularly the masochists and the sadists. I am a vanilla person with great friends of many sorts. I am in a position to say with authority that there are many more people wishing to be tortured–masochists–by skilled torturers–sadists than there are skilled sadists available. Do not ask me to explain them, but there they are. I did not know her personally, but it is my understanding that Amber Rayne–Meghan Wren–I am happy to know her name–was a beloved member of a BDSM community, no one to be thought of as a victim in any sense!!!
Do not misconstrue this as any defensiveness on my part. I have never had the slightest interest in playing either masochist or sadist. My wife actually asked me to whip her once for fun, but I was just no good at it. That is the meaning of the word “vanilla” in the BDSM world. But I can love them and their enjoyment of their play without needing to really be able to get inside the experience of it. I have never done sky-diving, either.
Stephster
April 21, 2016
Jen, you post whenever you want. I’ll still read it.
Michael Lee
April 27, 2016
I am compelled to leave a comment. I read and leave blogs without leaving a comment. After I read them, I say a quiet “thank you” because I learned something from another human being. Saying more would ruin the moment. It’s something undergrad/grad school textbooks or professors can’t teach us, right? The parts between the lines when we talk to or read another person’s thoughts on paper or a webpage.
This time…it was different. I guess it’s because your entries are thoughts from another human being who I saw on film and used their body to make a “living”; portrayed on digital film as purely carnal, unintelligent, subservient, and so on. Part of the other reason is apologizing to you for being seduced by those films and only seeing you as certain sexual positions rather than as a person who was still went to work on bad to very bad days, where the daily grind was literally a daily grind.
BTW, I agreed with your ‘Shitty First Draft’ blog, about Fuck APA formatting. I’m also in grad school, and I’m thinking, “you’re killing me, Smalls!” Those citations…ugh! I swear to the powers that be, if I have to press the tab button ONE more time, or see another double-spaced line…!
becomingjennie
May 2, 2016
I love this. Thank you for joining the conversation, for being compelled to act.
Also, huzzah to us, to grad school, to the struggle. To it being temporary.
el_ay_es
May 24, 2016
Having felt inspired to respond to foofoo5, and never mind that, I take the opportunity to say thank you again, Jennifer Ketcham. Again, I share your grief over the untimely death of the lovely Amber Rayne.
With love and respect, el_ay_es
becomingjennie
June 6, 2016
❤
eoin brennan
June 4, 2016
I just found your blog Jeanie……..your story is amazing. I remember seeing you on the Dr Drew show and for whatever reason I’ve often wondered how you were getting on. Always hoping you were ok now and I’m glad to see you’re doing so well in life.
I was sad to hear of Amber’s death, it seems tragedy follows where porn goes.
Anyway I’m gonna follow your blog and hope to hear you go from strength to strength. I really believe your story would make a great film.
I wish you all the best.
Eoin
becomingjennie
June 6, 2016
Thanks for touching in Eoin, and for sharing in the grief that connects us all Amber’s life and death.
Jenny Baird
September 4, 2016
Jennie, you are such a mindful, honest, empathetic and direct person. Your blog, and the honesty that you pour into it floors me. This is why I follow you. And why I am inspired by your journey. I am glad you are still with us, and so glad you have the desire and ability to share your thoughts to us all. I have been curious about the adult industry for a long time. Curious about what it was really like on the inside, and curious about how life’s are affected before, during and after being in it. Thank you for this post and your reflection on how you really did not know anyone in the industry. False names, false personas, hidden addictions, and so much more. I hope more porn stars turn their lives around as you have before it is too late. And the amount of young people joining porn means we need people like you to help them after their careers come to a horrible crash, as they are almost certain to experience. ❤