Going on the Perilous Quest to Understand the Lives of Sex Workers
Why is talking about sex work so hard? Our modern society has conditioned us to believe that it’s a taboo topic to be swept under the rug and only spoken of in eccentric circles. This is quite the conundrum to me when there are over 40 million sex workers in the entire world (that we know of).
So here’s the challenge: breaking the cycle and speaking out. It has been increasingly difficult for me in my own conversational groups to speak from experience and reveal my status as a sex worker without the fear of persecution, rejection or straight-up shame — either projected from the receiver or felt by my own insecurities. It’s risky.
Many of us weren’t raised to believe that being a sex worker is a good thing, so it’s taken many years to build the strength I have now to fully stand in my own power. Growing up, I was taught that chastity and devotion to traditional religious beliefs made you worthy of respect while anything deviating from that ideal was seen as demonic and shameful.
So I hid my life in sex work, for as long as I could, from any unsuspecting strangers or religious family members in some pretty creative ways. When anyone asked the cringe-worthy question, “What do you do?” I always had an arsenal of different “jobs” up my sleeve to reply with based on who asked.
I’d say I’m an actress, a model, a performance artist, in digital marketing, a freelance designer, whatever worked… conveniently turning the attention back to whoever I’m speaking to so the person can go on about themselves.
It’s exhausting protecting your full truth. Some people can announce their job descriptions with so much pride and blab on for hours about the great work they do in the world. Why can’t we be one of them? Because the world still treats sex work as grimy work belonging to the shadows of the night.
I understand that it brings up a lot of emotions for everyone. We were each fed a different story when we dared to be curious about it. Additionally, we each have our own relationship to sex and our own preconditions of what it means for us altogether. With that in mind, I am sensitive to the nature of the conversation as it is introduced. I simply want to be able to talk about it without feeling like a pariah.
These days, I’ve decided to be one of those humans who can speak about her status with honor, for myself and the industry I am a part of. It has taken a ton of practice and many nights of drowning in tears of doubt to come to this place, but I’m here.
I will say to anyone who asks that I am an artist working on a documentary film about the experiences of sex workers around the world that is a continuation of the stage play I produced about my own stories, or that I’m multifaceted and can’t be defined, or express how much I loathe the question outright and say that I’m a human existing with her head above water. Not everyone deserves to know, and the coolest people I’ve ever met don’t even ask because there are more creative ways to discover if a person is invigorating.
It’s important to discern who is deserving based on the energy of the conversation because we haven't come to a completely queer and liberated world just yet. That is the work we’re doing now. One day, it will be better and we can speak more freely without the fear of having our children taken away, without the possibility of housing being rejected or being shunned by a person with no empathy or understanding.
Hopefully, by having more and more talks with each other and opening the door for a more heart-centered acceptance of this work, we can change the narrative and give each other the gift of safety. Wouldn’t it be nice for us all to feel safe within ourselves? (Especially when we provide essential care to those who cross our paths?)
When the work benefits the world, it should be honored and treated with respect. We are tasked with the hard and perilous quest of taking the time to see ourselves in each other and take each other by the hand. Individualism is what starts wars. Communion and mirroring, knowing that we are all connected in one great big web, will save us.
What do you really know about sex work? Does it make you uncomfortable to think about? Run toward that discomfort. Jump into the cold shower and feel how much more blood can circulate in your body by taking the leap, and doing the scary thing. I dare you.
There’s a vast world out there, waiting for you to explore. Let’s allow ourselves to quench our curiosity and absorb each other’s stories, person to person. Will you take up the challenge? We’re willing and waiting to be seen for our worth as divine human beings, as equals in deserving a respectable life, as alive.
It starts with you and me, sitting together, not running away.
It starts with just one open heart like yours.
