Being queer and being a sex worker are two parts of my identity that I have felt the need to hide for my own safety. Neither of these things are shameful to me personally, but being LGBTQIA and being a sex worker are both criminalized and stigmatized. I've found navigating different levels of honesty about both sex work and my sexuality can be a struggle.
I tend to be very open and unapologetic about who I am, but, realistically, who you are can put your life in danger. I wish it was easier to talk about my life to others without having to navigate which information is safe to share. Unfortunately, that’s not the world we live in.
My sexuality is something I have been navigating my entire life. As a pre-teen, I identified as bisexual, only to be told by my parents, after an anxiety ridden confession, that it was probably just a phase. I have differed in how I identify, but the underlying consistent theme is that I am not heterosexual and my sexuality falls outside of societal norms. I experience attraction to all types of people.
Neither of these things are shameful to me personally, but being LGBTQIA and being a sex worker are both criminalized and stigmatized.
As I grew older, I found queer mentors who helped me find comfort with my strange self. As a 17 year old, I had a lesbian sociology professor lend me books and bring me to an anarchist book fair. When I was 20, I worked with a lesbian farmer who gave me a copy of Fun Home and invited me to queer events. Watching her build herself a life that was a haven for her most authentic self, I felt almost like Allison Bechdel in the scene in Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic, (a graphic memoir) where she sees a butch trucker for the first time. It's this moment when the borders of your understanding expand and you discover that you might fit in somewhere.
Writing this, I am filled with gratitude for the people who saw me then and reached out to build community. When we’re older and entrenched in our communities, it’s possible to forget how alienating navigating a self that fits outside of societal norms can be, especially as a teenager.
Similarly, I have found mentors within the sex working communities I am in. Some of the most radical people I know are queer sex workers. They engage in so much mutual aid and community building. I strive to be able to provide for others the support they’ve provided me with.
Recently a memory popped into my head that I want to share. I was in my early twenties and I lived very rurally, on a dirt road, in a town of about a thousand people. My neighbors knew I was married to a man, but not much else about my life, and I did not feel safe being out. I was walking with my then girlfriend and when a car drove by, I dropped her hand. I was terrified, in that moment, of the consequences of being outed to my mostly bigoted neighborhood as both queer and polyamorous.
Some of the most radical people
I know are queer sex workers.
Being outed as a sex worker is not without similar consequences, especially considering that full service sex work is illegal within the US, where I live, and is deeply stigmatized. I have a day job during which I am not out about any other work that I do. I need the income from both my day job (or rather, my vanilla job) and sex work to survive.
I think it's worth noting that many LGBTQIA people face discrimination that makes traditional employment difficult to impossible, and that sex work can be a solution to that. And sometimes that intersection means we have to lean into the fetishization of our identities.
I have found that within sex work, I am sometimes able to be my authentic self. I have been lucky enough to film scenes with queer sex workers that felt incredibly authentic and wholesome, rather than fetishizing and disempowering. I am open about my sexuality in my ads, which is something that I find relief in. I've had experiences of clients reaching out to me wanting to explore their own sexualities within our sessions. I find it incredibly humbling to be regarded as a safe space for clients to work through the ways that compulsive heteronormativity has harmed them. I want to be able to help others question societal norms and to regard themselves with curiosity rather than shame.
I dream of a future where I am free to be my most authentic self and to explore what that means without fear of criminalization. If you’ve read my other pieces, you know that at the core of my values, I am a prison industrial complex abolitionist. Existing as a queer person and a sex worker has helped to shape that perspective. I am fighting for a future where everyone can meet their basic needs and express their gender and sexuality without fear of harm, stigmatization, discrimination, or carceral consequences.
Are you a sex worker with a story, opinion, news, or tips to share? We'd love to hear from you!
We started the tryst.link sex worker blog to help amplify those who aren't handed the mic and bring attention to the issues ya'll care about the most. Got a tale to tell? 👇☂️✨
