I recently received a letter from a new reader which, among other things, asked why I became a sex worker, and volunteered a number of suggested motives, none of which (other than “Was it the money?”) made much sense to me. This was my reply.
Everyone has to have money to live, and unlike square jobs, escorting involves neither bosses, nor licenses, nor “permits”, nor piss tests, nor arbitrary rules, nor uniforms, nor “zoning”, nor “reporting” to anyone, nor having to ask permission to be sick (or to run errands during the day), nor creepy surveillance of my personal life, nor the government stealing a big chunk of my income before I even see it and then forcing me to ask for some of it back, nor any of the myriad other oppressions or indignities most people just accept as the cost of material existence. Sex work is much more lucrative per unit time than any other honest work requiring no degree, certificate, or title of nobility, and its flexibility is almost unparalleled even in comparison with other modes of self-employment. In short, I chose sex work because it allows me to live my life with the minimum amount of interruption and distraction from what I actually want to do, and you’ll find that’s a pretty common theme running through the lives of the great majority of us.
(Have a question of your own? Please consult this page to see if I’ve answered it in a previous column, and if not just click here to ask me via email.)
Sex work does give you several measures of real freedom. Another is that you’ll never have to ask (or give notice) that you’re away from your workplace to use the toilet.
It sounds amazing…I’m always scared of starting because I know how messy I am in organization and discipline. I don’t know how to balance books, screen clients, manage safety from bad actors and police both, and I worry I haven’t been historically private enough and would leave too many threads of myself behind to track. About the most complicated thing I know to do is ‘go into work, do thing, get out, wait for paycheck, repeat’. I worry I’d make stupid rookie mistakes that’d land me in jail or worse just from not thinking hard enough about it.
I’m always struck by how smart and resourceful sex workers have to be, and it just feels so completely beyond me. I’ve got endless respect and a little bit of envy for those that can pull it off.
And unlike landlording, which I (reluctantly and unhappily) did for eighteen years, it doesn’t require a huge initial investment, payment of property taxes, being on-call 24-7-52, and endlessly chasing people to get them to pay the money you owe.
I wonder if the concepts (and appeal) of autonomy and independence are truly lost on some people. My chosen career pretty much requires the corporate path and all the things you mention are why I’m eagerly anticipating early-as-possible retirement. Then I get to do whatever I want, whenever I want.