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girl for work

"Maryann Sturgill" (2018-07-24)


He knew I was a sex worker. It says so, right in my own Bumble profile: retired media whore, current actual whore. He had even commented on it, using what every woman longs to hear from a romantic interest:'Haha, nice ;) '. And yet I watched as his face contorted in to נערות ליווי an expression of disgust, his upper lip curling as the truth of my profession came crashing down around him just like a tonne of bricks.

"That is clearly a lot," he explained, and he then rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. I didn't hear from him again.

It sometimes surprises people to hear that sex workers do a number of normal people activities, like working other jobs, studying, taking the bins out. We exist in real life after our shifts end and the red light is flicked off; we've dinner with this families and shop at K-Mart and wait on hold with our online sites providers for what is like hours.

It's not common that the physical and emotional experiences we've at the job could be enough to replace with a possible not enough intimate connection in our lives beyond work; so most of us also date, with varied degrees of success.

A couple of months ago, I ended a connection with a person I had been seeing for nearly two years. In private, he was an enormous supporter of me working, but around his colleagues and friends his tune did actually change. He would introduce me, but hesitate in describing our relationship; when he said, "This really is Kate..." the silence that hung in the space where, "...my girlfriend," should have already been weighed a tonne.

I don't think that he personally had a trouble with me being fully a sex worker, but I do feel that the possibility of other folks judging me – and then judging him if you are with me – was enough to create him want to keep me a secret.

So I've recently downloaded some dating apps and put myself back on the proverbial market, but it's tough. Along with all the current usual questions one ponders before a date (What do I wear? Where shall we go?) I find myself asking such things as, "At what point do we've the talk?"

The talk in which I clarify my job, re-explain my profession in case my date didn't read my Bumble bio, forgot what it said, or – worse – thought it had been a joke. Do I tell him as soon as we meet, or before we say goodnight? Or do I throw it out at random over the span of the evening: "Wow, this wine is delicious. In addition, I'm a hooker. Pass the salt?"

The best dream scenario is that my date is supportive, and happy that I've found a distinct work that I like and supports me financially. Unfortunately, it has only happened once – once! – so these days, I find that most responses fall approximately abject fascination and outright objectification.

Sometimes I end on the receiving end of a lot of rapid-fire questions ("What's the weirdest thing you've ever done at the office? Perhaps you have had a celebrity client? Are the guys all old and ugly? They're not, like, normal guys like me, are they?") which is preferable to horrified silence, but leaves me feeling like I've just been interviewed for an hour.

Other times, my date can barely contain their disgust, quizzing me over and once more about how precisely frequently I get my sexual health checks done and if I'm sure I'm not a carrier of some mutant strain of gonorrhoea.

"That's all very well and good," one man said, over coffee, "But obviously if you sought out with me, you'd have to obtain a real job. And you couldn't tell anyone we know that you used to work." You ought to probably Google me before you get too attached to that idea, I wanted to sneer.

Needless to say, even the crudest type of questioning is really a better case scenario than the very real threat of violence that numerous sex workers face when speaking about their job. I've friends who have been followed home and stalked by men who couldn't realize why their date with a sex worker didn't end with a romp, and others who have had partners appear at their work in a spontaneous fit of jealousy, viciously demanding they empty their locker and return home together immediately.

And even that is preferable to the likelihood of physical violence from a romantic partner. I once proceeded a romantic date with a person who invited me around his bedroom, held me down as he initiated sex with no condom, and then read one of my own, personal articles, about sex work, out loud in my experience as I lay silently alongside him.

Dating isn't simple for anyone. Even the act of experiencing to distil your whole person directly into a short and snappy paragraph fit for a dating app will do to produce anyone wish to provide their hands and surrender to a life of solitude.

Still, I rely on love, and I know from past experiences that relationships – when they're good – are worth every struggle.

On the times when it's all too much, I find myself thankful for the easy, stress-free nature of transactional sex. An hour on the clock and a peck on the cheek to state a fond goodbye until the next occasion: if only finding love was as נערות ליווי simple.

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