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girl for work

"Maryann Sturgill" (2018-07-25)


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

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

It sometimes surprises people to know that sex workers do all sorts 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 have dinner with your families and shop at K-Mart and wait on hold with this websites providers for what feels as though hours.

It's not common that the physical and emotional experiences we've at work will be enough to make up for a potential insufficient intimate connection within our lives outside of work; so many of us also date, with varied degrees of success.

A few months ago, I ended a relationship with a person I had been seeing for nearly two years. In private, he was a massive 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 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 truly a sex worker, but I actually do believe that the likelihood of other folks judging me – and then judging him for being 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 the usual questions one ponders before a romantic date (What do I wear? Where shall we go?) I find myself asking things such as, "At what point do we've the talk?"

The talk by 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 when we meet, or before we say goodnight? Or do I throw it out randomly on the course of the evening: "Wow, this wine is delicious. In addition, I'm a hooker. Pass the salt?"

The ultimate dream scenario is that my date is supportive, and girl4escort happy that I've found a distinct work that I love 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 up on the receiving end of a lot of rapid-fire questions ("What's the weirdest thing you've ever done at the job? Perhaps you have had a celebrity client? Are the inventors 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 over again about how frequently I get my sexual health checks done and if I'm sure I'm not really a carrier of some mutant strain of gonorrhoea.

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

Of course, even the crudest line of questioning is just a better case scenario than the very real threat of violence that many sex workers face when speaking about their job. I have 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 arrive at their work in a spontaneous fit of jealousy, viciously demanding they empty their locker and return home using them immediately.

And even that's better than the possibility of physical violence from an intimate partner. I once proceeded a date with a person who invited me as much as his bedroom, held me down as he initiated sex without a condom, and then read among my own, personal articles, about sex work, out loud to me as I lay silently alongside him.

Dating isn't easy for anyone. Even the act of having to distil your entire person in to a short and snappy paragraph fit for a dating app will do to produce anyone want to provide their hands and surrender to a life of solitude.

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

On the days when it's all an excessive amount of, I find myself thankful for the simple, stress-free nature of transactional sex. One hour on the clock and a peck on the cheek to say a fond goodbye until the next occasion: if only finding love was as simple.

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