The Ludmila Confessions

Jorge Mistral and Ludmila

I kept going with my dream man, expecting a magic outburst of lightning, stars and ecstasy. Today, maybe I have an answer to my searching: I needed it, the touch, the contact, the feeling of love, the acknowledgement of my being– that love is what I have been chasing all my life. Lovers became my drug, to soothe the pain of the lack of love.

Spain was a success for me. Everywhere I went they needed a great model, even on television. I received an award for best high fashion model in Spain. Now it was time I went back home to Venezuela, so my devoted friend Africa took me to the aeropuerto (airport). Adios Espana! (Goodbye Spain) I know I will see you again, the world keeps turning!

Arriving home, nothing had changed with my two lovers. The ongoing affair with Oscar almost gave me what I thought I was seeking: love, tenderness, plans for children, a big house, playing canasta (rummy card game) with his mom and friends of the country club. But, it was not exactly my ideal of life, and besides, his mother had her hopes on a young socialite for Oscar. I never thought I would make a good daughter-in-law anyway. I couldn’t imagine settling down to that sort of life, especially while I was still so very young. She would spy on me and followed me with chaperones, because that is the way it is done in those society families. Not for me, don’t fence me in!

Meanwhile, Walter was a kind of Henry Higgins and I was the “Fair Lady”. He taught me about certain aspects of life, and showed me excitement and adventure, while introducing the classy and elegant sides. Although he was more like a devil teacher, showing me the bad things as well, and never had a real intention to marry me. I was confused about what I wanted. Of course I didn’t enjoy Walter’s wife chasing us around with a gun, but the parties, trips, elegance, operas, shows, cabarets, & clubs seemed like the la dolce vita (the sweet life). They sure kept me distracted and blind in a way to the truth of the crudeness of the devil teacher.

Consequently, I had three abortions. One, because I honestly did not know whose it was– Walter’s or Oscar’s. I had left Oscar’s beautiful penthouse and Walter took me to his doctor abortionist again. Then, I went home to mama.

Modeling work took me back to my old home area, around Maracay, but this time to the most incredible place, one of the first five star hotels in Venezuela. It was like a country club, with horse stables, pools, tennis courts, it had everything. I would remember how poor I had been, existing on a dream as a child just a few kilometers from this ranch of bees, mangos, and tomatoes that the cows eat, now getting dressed in my luxurious room, looking out the window in that direction and tears falling down my cheeks.

Life was challenging for my family without a loving father or typical home. Let me put it this way– my parents didn’t have the time or energy to hold me in their arms, they never embraced me and shared feelings that gave me satisfaction or knowing real love like a baby animal hanging on its mother, or a baby kangaroo in its mother’s pouch. I did not experience the contact, the physical, carnal, skin to skin touch, like when they put the baby on top of the stomach after birth so he feels love and warm closeness from the place where he came out.