I am a sex worker. That’s right, I am in the business of selling sex, by choice. I know what you’re thinking- “Oh, poor girl. Someone must have touched her inappropriately as a child.” Or, perhaps you’re thinking “What a whore. She’s probably doing it to support her cocaine habit.” Lastly, my favorite- “Well, she must not be very bright. No self-respecting woman would do such a thing.” Well, if you’re thinking those things (or anything close to it), then I especially encourage you to keep reading. There are no horrific tales of abuse here, there’s no drug habit or child to support. There’s just me…a 29 year old woman, going to school part-time, working a professional job part-time, and doing sex work in between. I grew up in the suburbs in a happy and well-adjusted family. I guess I don’t fit the stereotype of a sex worker, do I? Sorry to disappoint you, but I thought you should know the truth.
Perhaps you’d like to know what type of sex work I do. First let’s talk about what I don’t do. I don’t have sex for money. Surprised? I’ve never gotten paid to touch a man (unless you count diamonds and expensive dinners from ex-boyfriends as payment. Seriously, aren’t we all just sex workers?). I have friends who engage in prostitution, and I have nothing but respect and love for my girls. I don’t judge sex workers, regardless of the type of work that they do. I have my own brand of sex work. I do porn, have sex on webcam (sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend), sell my personal belongings and photos to adoring fans, and occasionally phone sex. Let’s just say that I make A LOT of money, but I have always been taught that it’s rude to discuss one’s finances, so let’s move on.
One of my pet peeves- people who try to save me. People who pity me. I’m not asking for your fucking help, got it? I choose to be a sex worker, and I enjoy it. I enjoy the flexibility, the money, the respect. I DEMAND respect from my clients, and if I don’t get it, then they don’t get what they want. I make the rules, and I can’t say that about any other job I’ve ever had.
I once had a woman (she claimed to be feminist) tell me that I don’t respect my body, and that I am “selling myself to the patriarchy.” What the fuck does that even mean, and how does this woman know how I feel about my body? In my opinion, she’s just as bad as all of these fucking Republican pigs who try to tell us what to do with our pussies, even though they have a dick between their thighs. I decide what I do with my body, got it?
I love my life. I love my body. I am a sex worker.