Jabe Babe - A Heightened Life, by Janet Merewether

When I was little, Mum used to give me Choc Bits and a can of Pepsi for Breakfast. That’s what I had every morning for years. I’d sit watching cartoons and eat my choc bits. I have a sweet tooth now.

Mum is schitzophrenic. She’s dramatic, excitable and frustrating. Mum used to take me to nightclubs and strip clubs, dressing me up in her clothes because I was quite tall and she’s short – this would have been when I was six or seven. She’d take me hitchhiking, too. Everywhere she went, I went. I was her little friend.

One day I woke up and no one was home. Hours later, Mum came back in a taxi full of toys. She’d gone shopping and forgot to tell me. I was distressed and she couldn’t understand – ‘But look, I’ve bought you toys!’

I was always really lanky. Even as a toddler I was gangly; head and shoulders above other children. I felt awkward and had no sense of grace. It took me a long time to get over it.

After being put into care as a seven-year-old, I was diagnosed with Marfan Syndrome. It’s a connective tissue disorder, which means I’m missing a ‘glue’ gene that holds all my muscles and joints together, so they’re susceptible to tearing, the lenses in my eyes are susceptible to disconnecting, and the aortic valve in my heart is susceptible to stretching. My limbs grew very long – I kept getting taller and taller. Today I stand at 187cm.

Over a period of nine years I was in 12 foster homes. The longest placement was with a large Pentacostal family, from age 10 to 15. Everything I did was wrong, wrong, wrong. For a while I believed I was the anti-Christ. Even when I tried to be good, it didn’t work, so I embraced the dark side!

I had open heart surgery at 17. By that stage I was living with friends and they took really good care of me. My aortic valve was in danger of bursting, so the doctors had to slice open my chest, saw down my sternum, wrench open my ribs, cut something out of my heart and sew something else it – it was really quite base! But I had the greatest support and was never alone.

My upbringing had a lot to do with my career choice. Once I was independent and had come into my own power, I wielded it. I’d always wanted to try dominatrix work as it sounded glamorous, so I did an apprenticeship. It was an amazing experience and mentally stimulating – you really get to know people.

Being a dominatrix was therapy. It helped me understand myself and learn where emotions came from. It also gave me an outlest for those emotions. I took back my own life. I don’t regret it at all. B&D (Bondage and Discipline) is a very accepting subculture. You can be whatever you want. You are welcome to appreciate the bizarre – and I was bizarre.

After nine years, I knew it was time to quit. The work was no longer stimulating me, I’d lost my passion for it and was becoming blasé. I got too full of myself, thinking I was tops – ‘I’m the mistress!’ When that starts to happen, you know there’s no point doing any job. I’ve been out of the B&D scene for four years now.

I used Marfan Syndrome as an excuse to misbehave. It was a pity party. I never wanted to have a purposeless life, but I’d think, what’s the point? I’m not doing to be able to finish what I start. When I found out that advances in modern medicine meant that I can live as long as anyone, if I manage my condition properly, I had to face the music. It was time to be the person I always wanted to be.

And now, I’m about to start work as a mediator for a Federal Government department. It calls on my skills as a communicator, and you have to be assertive – so my B&D stuff has worked for me! But not with implements; with voice and diction.

I need to keep learning. I’m about to study Mortuary Orientation, and I can’t wait. Grief counselling is a topic of interest. I want a life with purpose. I want to leave a positive impact on the world and the people around me.

I have a fantastic partner. His name is Marek and we have been together for two and a bit years – my longest ever relationship. I love him dearly. He’s supportive, accepting and non-judgemental.

Marek has taught me that I’m capable of loving someone and being loved. He’s taught me that I’m not evil and horrible – I just have my moments! And he accepts me for who I am. I’m so mellow now. In the past, I was guarded with people. With Marek, I let it all go. I trust him.

I haven’t seen mum for eight years now. But we speak on the phone. It’s frustrating for me because I can’t seem to reach her. I’d love to ask her stuff, but whether or not I’ll get any answers is a wild card.

When director Janet Merewether asked me if she could made a documentary about my life, I said ‘Yeah, of course!’ I was still a dominatrix at the time, and I was ‘out there.’ Then I went and bragged to everyone about it. And of course it didn’t happen, so all my friends were like ‘Yeah, nice one, Jabe!’ But years later, Janet tracked me down again.

Jabe Babe: A Heightened Life is the most confronting thing I’ve ever done. It was the equivalent of 10 years in therapy. Halfway through doing it, I thought, what was I thinking? But it has changed my life. I’m a different person now. The bizarre thing is, I’m really quite shy. When I saw the film for the first time, I thought, my God, I’m actually quite lovely!

Article by Tony Magnusson, reprinted by Scarlet Alliance in 2006, with permission from the Sunday Telegraph Magazine, November 20, 2005, pg 17