the blog

Catching Up–May 1 Prompt OR “Why Don’t I Blog About Sex Work?”

To what extent is your blog a place for your own self-expression and creativity vs. a site designed to attract read-ers? How do you balance that? If sticking to certain topics and types of posts meant your readership would triple, would you do it?

 

I’m a body rub escort, which means I give unlicensed massages to dudes who fondle my breasts and orgasm into my hands. Sometimes we have sex, but on my terms. Like a loyalty reward. If you click through my website, you’ll find my service descriptions, online booking, a pretty explicit gallery, and a ton of stuff about sex work, but click on my blog and you’ll find almost no mention. Why not leverage the taboo? Could get me five thousand followers fast. 

 

First of all, it’s been done, and I’m no copycat. Second, it’s not that important to my everyday life. How boring would it be if you made your job your hobby? If you talked about nothing but work outside of work just to get some clicks from nosey net neighbors? I love that women are out there, making themselves visible. Do it more. But I have nothing to add to the blogosphere.

 

 I mean, what would you like to know? 

How many men do I see in a day? Zero to five, depending on whether rent is due and how many items I have in my Amazon cart. 

Have I ever been harmed on the job? Never, I’ve been cared for as a girlfriend far more often. People have told me I helped them heal from past traumas and bad relationships.  It’s not at all what you have been led to believe it is like. Most men are lonely or busy or unusual guys who just don’t fair well on the dating market. And when I say unusual, I mean awesome. Respectful, thoughtful, intelligent, often highly successful, amazing people. Not anti-social, maybe shy. Not aggressive, and never violent, not sex obsessed, usually a bit repressed and awkward. I have no desire to make light of them, as with one major trend in sex work writing. Nor do they deserve demonization, as with another. They’re people who deserve their privacy, and if mentioned at all, should be allotted the full depth of their humanity. I’m left with little to say that can be said in a single blog.

 

What is my emotional experience of the job? Sometimes I dread going to work, like everyone else. But like everyone else who works in a field to which they are well suited, I frequently enjoy it, too. I find it empowering, turning bodies to putty under my hands. And that final moment, when they’re writhing involuntarily and I have more control over their flesh than they do? It’s a high everytime.  And yeah, it’s a turn on. It’s the brain’s natural empathic response, see happy, get happy, see horny, get horny. I feel every one of my clients’ twitches and moans, my body tenses when they curl their toes, my spine bows when they arch their backs. This synchronization is what makes me good at my job, and I’m validated in this. I like to be told that I’m good, and self professed connoisseurs say I’m the best.

 

There’s nothing else to tell. I live a quiet life and I keep to myself. I play Mommy on Thursday evenings and then again every Friday at 6 to the end of the weekend. You’ll find me at arcades and parks and playscapes with a messy bun and a loose fitting t-shirt these three or four days of the week. I Skype my kids at 7:00 every single night and we draw Sonic the Hedgehog together or try to outread our first grade classmates on Epic! I work on my website and I read and I write, and that’s my whole life. Nothing risque to share. Sex work is just work.