Sex workers are excellent for society, and I’m living proof.
(above: a photo from this particular time period. 2015.)
A few years ago, I was enjoying growing success a a GFE escort in the Bay Area. I had been doing it for 4 years or so, and it had afforded me some wonderful resources for personal development, increasing my capacity for self-awareness and fostering a strong sense of personal power.
I was fortunate enough to operate independently from a gorgeous high-end space, which was rented out hourly to me and a few other providers. My days and nights were spent entertaining Silicon valley techies in the large, airy loft. Calming and minimalist, it featured a massage table, a round bed covered in fresh white linens and was sparsely decorated with a few healthy plants and Buddha statues.
It was truly the best place I could have had at my disposal, and I miss it very much. (Sigh…it no longer exists.)
However, all of this tranquil luxury still existed within the lawless bubble of time and space that is escorting, so I had to come up with ways to protect myself within this paradox. I was already practicing my solid screening process, but that doesn’t always stop character flaws like entitlement and misogyny from popping out of clients’ mouths from time to time. This sort of thing can wear on a person’s energy, especially that of women and non-binary people.
In order to sustain my energy (and my business), I developed some strategies for having my cake and fucking eating it too…the whole reason I became a sex worker in the first place!
My routine always started well before the clients’ arrival. I would get to the space a half hour or so before my appointment began, and start by washing the BART from my hands (if you’ve spent any significant time in the bay, you know).
I’d select a sexy playlist, light a little incense and some candles, swish a little mouthwash, and do a little last-minute grounding…just a mini meditation to get into my body, into the space. I always like to be relaxed and grounded before greeting a client.
When my respective client would arrive, I’d greet them with a warm hug, and ask them to remove their shoes. In spite of the shoe rack sitting less than a foot from them, 99% of the time, they would just leave the shoes on the floor and start to walk into the space (like animals!) (kidding, of course), and I would then gracefully motion toward the rack and instruct them to place their shoes inside.
I’d let then let them know that I’d hung a clean towel by our beautiful clawfoot tub, offering them a quick solo shower. Half the time, they would protest, saying they’d already showered that day—to which I would reply: “I insist.” I was firm, yet gentle, maintaining eye contact and always with a calm smile.
My voice and temperament remained calm and collected, always. Each word, each gesture, intentional, low-key…but high impact.
This interaction encouraged them to relax, washing away the stresses of their day while relinquishing the control that their respective lives demanded of them constantly. It demonstrated that this was, in fact, my space, my dimension…and that it was a privilege for them to have entered it at all! Not to mention, I have standards, and I prefer my partners to be cleanly.
It may be a “man’s world’ (or is it?), but should someone dare enter my corner of it and underestimate its sacredness, my sovereignty, then they would be gently corrected in a way which leveled the playing field, never embarrassing or emasculating them (unless, of course, humiliation was specifically desired), and with little effort on my part. A subtle power exchange, with me claiming the upper hand without even so much as raising my voice. I work hard to cultivate a sense of peace and divine femininity within myself, and I did in that space as well. Fortunately, most of my clients recognized that. That is what they’d come for, after all…
At times, some clients would reveal common character flaws, such as that aforementioned entitlement or misogyny. For example, during conversation, a client would describe a situation where he’d taken a woman on a date which did not result in a sexual encounter. He would describe feeling like he’d been stiffed—used, even—minimizing his date, reducing a whole, complex human being to a negative stereotype or even worse, a body part or sex act.
Hold the fucking phone.
This man before me had the fucking gall and complete, utter lack of self-awareness to EXPECT sexual gratification out of his date, all the while having a deeply skewed and malformed idea of HER in the first place. If you can’t even SEE how divine and complex the creature is before you, if you can’t even recognize that basic fact, then you don’t deserve ANY sexual gratification at all—let alone her time or (platonic) companionship. Ask yourself: what exactly are you bringing to the table? What makes you so deserving…I mean, entitled…to sexual gratification from this person?
(Hint: your sparkling personality and a meal/drinks aren’t enough.)
With a warm and invested demeanor, I would listen intently to his silly little tantrum. When he’d reach a detail about the story in which he’d expect me to laugh in agreement that she’d been at total bitch (or whatever derogatory language he would use to express that he didn’t get what he wanted, digging himself deeper into his pit of diaper-baby-ness), I’d maintain my gaze, cocking my head slightly and saying, “I don’t get it. What exactly did she do wrong again?” “How is that funny? I’m not following,” over and over as the story progressed until nerves would begin to take him over.
I’d explain to him that the woman he’d been so lucky to share space with didn’t actually owe him anything, and that if she wasn’t interested in sharing space and energy with him in that way, it was 100% her choice and her right. I gently corrected him…and guess what? He listened.
This protest, which began with some simmering heat, would usually end up evolving into a discussion filled with empathy on both parts. More often than not, my male clients who found themselves in this position with me would end up opening their minds and learning to consider the other perspective. My goal was never to seek revenge—well, not in this case, anyway—but to educate and hopefully get them to approach the world and themselves in a new way. In order to change the world, we have to start with ourselves.
You see, when a person respects themselves, they’re way more likely to see others as autonomous individuals deserving of the same respect. All I did in these instances was simply hold up a mirror…and you know something? Nine times out of ten, these men loved me for it! In fact, most of them became my regulars, and we shared a beautiful friendship that lasted months, and in some cases, years. Some I’m still seeing to this day!
The old adage is true…men love a challenge.