I already posted about reading one sex worker’s blog; that’s not the only one that got my attention recently.
I’ve been reading College Call Girl. She has been on a bit of a break for the last three weeks, and I don’t know her personally, so I have no idea when or if she’s coming back, but I keep hoping.
Now, some folks may think that this is light reading, or one-handed reading. And sometimes it is. But she alternates between the glib and hot, soul-searching, and flat-out patriarchy-blaming; so that passages like this:
Even with all the admittedly sinful diddling and fingering and rubbing and stroking I had done before, I had never once done something as terrible, as sacrilegious as what I found myself doing now.
I was masturbating to the Bible.
I don’t remember what section in particular it was that got me so steamed up, although I think it was in the Old Testament.
rub shoulders with passages like this:
One of the cruelest tragedies of the sex industry is that it attracts girls like me who already have skewed ideas about sex and self-worth and then completely reinforces all our secret fears. The men you meet, the whole lifestyle, whispers to you that you were right all along, that all that really matters is being desired.
I still struggle every day to change my thinking. It makes me almost sick to my stomach to meet new people whether in a personal or professional capacity, because I worry they will not think I am pretty. Most of my friends are men with whom I have had former dalliances because I just do not feel comfortable around people who I don’t know with certainty find me sexually attractive. In my head, my worth is completely tied up in my appearance and sex. As a result of being abused at a young age, my thinking is fucked. There is something wrong with my brain. No matter how logically I know that who I am is more important than how sexy I look, I have internalized the lesson that it is my sexuality that makes me lovable.
Of course, this is a trap that will keep me perpetually insecure because not everyone is always going to be attracted to me. When you feel that perfectly normal fact as a deep blow to your self-esteem, it’s impossible to ever really feel confident.
She’s not a representative sample; she’s one woman from a particular social position (white, class-privileged, etc.). She doesn’t represent all sex workers — nobody could, or should, or should be expected to. She represents her own experience; which is ambiguous and nuanced. She both loves and hates sex work; she’s honest about keeping it light to keep her audience entertained, and honest that she knows this glamorizes and whitewashes her own experiences:
But there’s another side to this deal that I’m afraid I haven’t shown you. It’s not easy to write about prostitution in a totally honest way because it is painful… I am a tangle of contradictions. I am not ashamed of my choices and I will fully defend mine or anyone else’s right to make them. But when you ask me if you should do this? My immediate instinct is a loud, desperate no.
Along her road of self-reflective posts, CCG put up one that I’ll probably never forget, [Trigger Warning] the sort of speaking out that one woman can do to make thousands of other women feel less alone:
The Number is Eight
I have been sexually assaulted more than once. Each time that it happened to me, I felt that extenuating circumstances kept it from truly being rape. I was working as a prostitute, he was my boyfriend, I was drunk, I got in the car. I never believed that I had fought hard enough. I made excuses for the men who hurt me; I told myself “he didn’t know what he was doing.” When I spoke about my experiences with sexual assault (which I did very rarely), I would say only that “a lot of bad things have happened to me.”
And she lists them. And she tells the story. And every one will resonate with some woman out there who reads it, who will know that it wasn’t just her; that it wasn’t her fault; that what happened to her was wrong.
Nothing I ever write will matter that much.
I came across “The Number is Eight” quite a few months ago now and it is easily one of the strongest emotional pieces of writing I have come across.
Even with this short little clip highlighted, I can recall all of the instances of sexual assault that she recounts.
I’d also recommend Calico as another sex worker who also writes about her feminist thoughts on the subject of her profession.
Thomas,
This is a very nicely written post, bringing important things to attention. It’s really great.
I would suggest you consider cutting this line:
“Nothing I ever write will matter that much. ”
I’m positive it isn’t your intention, but it… comes across as a little self-pitying? Rather than what I’m sure you meant, which was a compliment to this striving, no doubt brilliant woman. It sort of re-centers the post around you instead of her.
And anyway, I refuse to concede the point that you will never do anything as important. :-P
The comments section of the numbers post is chilling. So many many similar stories.
Thomas, it’s great to see you blogging here.
Anybody is welcome to read my book in progress about my experiences as a sex worker. Like CCG, I’m white, middle-class, and terribly conflicted about sex work. I call my story “Compartments” to describe the double life a sex worker lives.
While I kept my blog at WordPress.com I got lots of comments from angry male readers who didn’t like what I had to say about their “hobby.” I think most of them have abandoned reading since I got my own domain, and of course, a book is harder to keep up with than daily snippets of opinion and experiences. Now I’m writing the continuous tale of how I got started, how I worked a day job on top of it, keeping the secret from friends, having a boyfriend shame me for it, seeing men in social situations as domineering predators who use women to show off for each other as well as gratify themselves. Who use prostitutes to reaffirm to themselves that they don’t need a connection with their wife if she’s not going to give him sex, no matter how indifferent he is to her needs. The wife can always be blamed for him “seeking it out elsewhere.”
Now I’m rambling, but I do hope you’ll check out what I’ve been writing and leave your feminist comments. I really need insight from readers besides other sex worker bloggers and sex addicted men who keep blogs about visiting prostitutes.
Thank you!
[...] is no longer seen as the system of oppression it is. There is no clarity at all about sex work. Men who admit to jerking off to sex worker’s blogs (and in the next breath talk about the sex worker’s experiences with rape and assault) get to [...]
Thomas, thanks for all the great blogging you’ve been doing on sex workers.
Yeah, alley rat, and so many deleted comments written by jackasses. It was oddly peaceful reading a thread with that stuff deleted, tho.
I actually just read the whole thread. Heartbreaking.
How does she come from a position of privilege? I do think her voice resonates with/against RenEv and and this woman. But I’m not sure how privilege affects that space.
my number is 4 and that piece about her need to be desired hit so damn close to home. it never mattered if people thought i was smart or cool or sweet or funny, i just wanted them to want me cos thats all that counted. i think im past that now, after a few years of self imposed celibacy and now a 2 year relationship with an amazing partner who is mindblowingly supportive of everything about me, but when i was younger and before i spent time in incredibly intensive therapy working toward recovery i did alot of things i wouldnt have if i had only known how to define myself as more than an orifice.
i dont think im strong enough yet to go to her blog and read it all, but thank you all the same for highlighting it and letting me kno im not some freakish anomaly.
Cheers for the link – & I’m sure everything you write will “matter that much” if everything you write continues to strive to be revealing & honest. All experiences are valid.
i have been involved with an anti-human trafficking group in rhode island. one thing that continues to worry me is the lack of voice from those we are supposedly ‘rescuing’. thank you for posting this.
my concern from the first has been to find legal protection for anyone who is coerced into prostitution and to prosecute anyone who commits crimes of force or coercion.
i fear that we will just make the problem worse if we don’t find out what exit strategy is needed from people who are actually in the sex trade and want out.
While I don’t actually have sex with my clients, I’m also a sex worker: Professional Dominatrix of color.
Thanks for this post and bringing this to my attention.
As usual, the posts on Feministe are engaging as they encourage us to think and discuss. I am very sad to hear that she was sexually assaulted multiple times. No one should ever have to endure that. Absolute violation of human rights.
I have not read the blog so I will not comment on it. However, I do think the passage about the Bible is very…it did rub me the wrong way and I find it very provocative but in an offensive way (this could be the Roman Catholic in me coming to the forefront).
Thomas, I think this part of your post is very interesting. Could one argue that by keeping it light, bloggers like College Call Girl, it makes it harder to fathom why women engage in sex work ? I would be interested to hear thoughts. Again, since I have not read the blog I would not dream about reviewing it but in general, with the crazy success of Belle de Jour which was turned into a book and a TV series here in the UK, I suspect that some segments of the population are interested solely in the “glossy” side of sex work that is more related to the courtesan side of things.
I think it is so important for blogs & issues like this to be discussed. However, I also think it is important not to sort of give issues like this the carte blanche in the vein that women can do whatever they like to their bodies etc (your post did not imply this at all, I am just saying my reasoning).
I have more thoughts on this but will come later…interesting post!
I have been reading the CCG blog for months now (though I don’t think I have ever commented on it that I recall). I like the CCG; if her voice is representative of her as a person, I think I would like her in real life. I always enjoy reading blogs by actual (well, as actual as SW blogs can ever be, since the blogger almost never uses a real name) sex workers. The rest of us can go around and around discussing sex work, but these people are actually there, experiencing it. Its a reason I enjoyed the copy of $pread I picked up recently.
Thomas, this post is super creepy, and I know I am not the only one that feels this way. (It’s been discussed in some other locations, no doubt bc people feel uncomfortable discussing it here.) If you are seriously committed to being a feminist ally, I hope you will take some time to reflect on why. Your tone here is paternalistic, condescending, and downright gross.
I second Amber and feel guilty for not commenting on this earlier.
I dislike the ‘sideshow’ aspect of this post. It at the very least ties into narratives about ‘damaged’ women and sex work. I would say that CCG speaks for herself and not your larger narrative. It’s very point and ‘oooh’.
I dislike the insinuation that the suffering of CCG is part of your enjoyment of reading her blog.
It’s fucking important to talk about sexual assault and how it’s glossed over and women excuse it when it happens to them – CCG is doing amazing work there. Your writing on it is incrediably creepy though.
Thomas isn’t reveling in CCG’s suffering. He appreciates her nuanced take on the issues and applauds her courage and honesty as a writer. What’s creepy about that?
I found it creepy, as a sex worker, to read. I felt as if there was a very Wooo, look at the Freakshow sense to it, intended or not. I understand that Tomas is trying to bring attention to sex work, sex workers, and their voices and issues, but yeah, this post, a few of his others, have rubbed me, and apparently others, the wrong way, including other sex workers.
Folks are free to love Tomas’s views on these things. Other folk are free to dislike them and find them…creepy, or any other number of things.
But it appears to be a theme with Thomas what with posts about ‘Juggs’ and ‘I could have loved you better’ – especially that post.
It’s great that he’s recognising great writing, but the self-flagellation alongside talk of ‘one handed reading’ is just creepy.
I think there is a lot of confirmation bias in this post. CCG is a basically happy, well adjusted person who does not feel herself to be a victim in her own life, but a participant. All of that reality is dismissed with the implication that she is just hiding it to “keep it light’ but any hint of distress is taken as proof of the thesis that all sex workers are abused and damaged.
When you simply ignore things that don;t fit your thesis and fasten onto the things that do… you will always feel your point has been proven.
I have to agree with Amber, Lady S, and RE about the creepiness of this post. This statement in particular is incredibly paternalistic and self-serving–and it suggests a sense of self-importance that I’d rather not see on Feministe: “Nothing I ever write will matter that much.” Good lord… Way to make it all about you, Thomas.
Also agree that this post is way too fixated on the “damaged sex worker” tropes.
I just read the entire blog yesterday (yes, I read fast and it took hours) and I really liked hearing what she had to say, the good, the bad and the ugly.
I have been previously against legalization (but 100% in favor of decriminalization when it comes to sex workers—in other words, I’m not sure whether purveyors and pimps should be criminally punished, but I am damn sure sex workers should not). But, after friends of mine have told me about their brief stints in sex work, and I’ve read books about legal sex work (like stripping) and compared them to books/blogs about illegal sex work (usually involving intercourse or other contact-sex acts) I see a lot of parallels.
So thank you to Thomas, for posting the link to CCG’s blog and other sex worker blogs, and thanks to those who have posted links above, I really appreciate this opportunity to learn more. Because in the end, I want us to fashion public policy so that sex workers are safe, and treated with dignity and respect.
I don’t have anything to say about the tone of the post; but I am listening to those who do.
I am SO ANGRY that prosecutors spent so much time and money going after Palfrey (and crucifying her employees on the stand, needlessly–you can prove your case without humiliating witnesses, really) and none at all going after the clients. I mean, WTF, mate?
Wow, did you all read the same post I did?
I think there is a lot of confirmation bias in this post. CCG is a basically happy, well adjusted person who does not feel herself to be a victim in her own life, but a participant. All of that reality is dismissed with the implication that she is just hiding it to “keep it light’ but any hint of distress is taken as proof of the thesis that all sex workers are abused and damaged.
When you simply ignore things that don;t fit your thesis and fasten onto the things that do… you will always feel your point has been proven.
Thomas specifically quotes a passage from the book where CCG states that she purposely keeps the blog/book light to keep people entertained but that she does have conflicts about the whole thing:
I am a tangle of contradictions. I am not ashamed of my choices and I will fully defend mine or anyone else’s right to make them. But when you ask me if you should do this? My immediate instinct is a loud, desperate no.
How is this irrelevant? I would argue that by focusing on only the portions of her book which confirm your opinion of CCG as a “basically happy, well adjusted person” you are missing a big part of the message she is giving you here. She may be basically happy and well adjusted but that doesn’t mean she can’t have second thoughts about her job and I can only give kudos to Thomas for posting that excerpt.
Oh, and to quickly touch on damaged sex worker tropes—I think they come sometimes from the fact that some men (most of whom don’t post on this site) who are pro-prostitution say nasty and degrading things about sex workers, and want it to be legalized for their own selfish reasons without acknowledging that for at least SOME sex workers, it is a choice that was shaped by their own sexual mistreatment, or even if it was a choice that was freely made, that their own histories of sexualized violence can make certain interactions with clients (the callous, objectifying clients) very damaging.
So sometimes it is hard to switch gears, I think, for those of us who are used to engaging with callous (non-feminist) assholes elsewhere on the blogosphere.
I just left an appointment with a john, and am sipping coffee, mulling over the kinds of debates that happen on these blogs. I am, like many of you, an avid reader of many feminist blogs and blogs of sex workers – likely b/c I am a feminist woc, a full time grad student and sometime sex-worker. It is wonderful to hear all these voices and read them across the blogosphere, and I just wanted to emphasize one thing : we are all very different. Please don’t generalize sex workers, but listen and share your own views respectfully.
What I love, really love, about being a call girl is the immediate intimacy that most johns give you and the privilege of sifting through layers of sexism and preconceptions to have what is at is most basic, an intimate act. Some johns are scary or sad, others are really heartwarming. The one I just left wanted to talk about family and love after our tryst in the sheets, and we talked about how sex workers help him be a kinder and more loving husband and father. My sex work helps me understand myself and my relations to men (I am in a very serious long term relationship) in a way that is nuanced and complicated.
CCG writes about these complications – I’ve had my share of sexual assault as well and don’t deny its role in my identity. Please just try to see what she’s saying without prejudice and take it in for all of its glorious/wonderful/smutty/intelligent/heartwrenching/disturbing qualities.
Thanks for listening.
[...] If You Have Not Heard Of CCG … Feministe link to a heart-breaking, provocative blog written by a sex worker. (tags: sex work prostitution blogging female_sexuality) [...]
I’ll add my voice to those who found the OP to be creepy. Here’s what I said about it over on my own blog:
Starting off with the remark that, “…some folks may think that this is light reading, or one-handed reading. And sometimes it is.” Seems to me to be very unwise when you’re trying to praise someone for the quality of their writing. With those few words, Thomas shifted the focus from CCG and onto the male reaction to her. The male reaction, and not the feminist reaction. Everything from that point on only has the effect of back-pedalling from this possessive and patriarchy-privilege-infused sense, and everything is infused with a sense of “the male gaze”.
Thomas’ second quotation from CCG included the passage:
As a result of being abused at a young age, my thinking is fucked. There is something wrong with my brain. No matter how logically I know that who I am is more important than how sexy I look, I have internalized the lesson that it is my sexuality that makes me lovable.
I think there’s your clue right there for why Thomas’ opening statement and picking a quote to support it, was way out of line coming from a male perspective and voice.
I went terribly off the rails here. I hear the criticism and I will think about it a great deal. I apologize. I hope people enjoy CCG’s excellent blog.
anon. wokring girl,
How does visiting a prostitute make someone a more loving husband and father? Wouldn’t therapy work better than a blow job?
I think I’m missing something here. I guess I’m just one of those old fashioned feminists – I really don’t understand the empowering aspect of selling one’s body. And reading feminist blogs rationalizing the positive power held by women in sex work isn’t really convincing me. Nor have the snippets of the stripper memoirs I’ve looked at. It just makes me sad – perhaps there is no answer, and women and girls will always be just a collection of holes and body parts to many men, so we might as well cash in on it while we’re young and tight. It just seems to me like that’s about as empowering as sleeping with your boss, or acting dumb and fluttering your eyelashes (but in an ironic, post-feminist kind of way, of course) so guys will like you and know that you know your place. Because unless johns and strip club patrons are far more enlightened and less hateful and disparaging towards women as many men (and our society at large) are, I don’t think they’re really getting an education on being better lovers, or parents, or on improved gender relations. They’re getting off on buying women – at best, in a direct sex-as-a-commodity kind of way, and at worst, as a power dynamic. Just doesn’t seem so feminist to me.
And the sex worker as victim? Sorry, but quite obviously a lot of them are survivors, as are a lot of women in general. Nothing prepares a girl for a life spent trying to please and appease men than early sexualization. I’ve certainly seen it in friends and acquaintances.
Not entirely sure where I stand on legalization/decriminalization. It’s slippery – I do think that anything that would make sex workers’ lives safer is best, but I don’t have the answer. In a perfect world, it would be just another job choice. But we’re not living in a world where women’s sexuality is looked upon in a positive or even neutral light. We’re not even living in a world where women and girls are considered fully functioning adult human beings. It’s absolute bullshit to pretend that we are.
Ismone says: Because in the end, I want us to fashion public policy so that sex workers are safe, and treated with dignity and respect.
I do to. I’d also like a world where women and girls are treated with dignity and respect, and are considered fully human. If we achieved that (hey, I can dream, right?) it would certainly go a long way towards making things safer and just plain better for female sex workers.
SnowdropExplodes: I get exactly what you’re saying, but I think for me more of a creepy tone comes in with the post making some stabs at being an objective-seeming review of the blog. In some ways, I think this post would have worked better if Thomas had kept it *all* about him, making it completely clear he’s talking about his own reaction only, that he’s filtering it through his own prejudices and relative lack of experience with the topics, instead of flatly stating, for example, what CCG loves and hates. The main point of the post could then be to encourage people to go read the blog for themselves and, if they like, come back and share their own responses.
With a pretense at an objective review, my impression of the post is that the author is, however inadvertently, setting himself up as an authority to judge the blog, its value and ultimate meaning. And while it can make sense to do that with writers who hope to submit their works for critical review in an attempt to gain legitimacy in certain spheres, I think it does get creepy when someone takes it on himself to evaluate works by people who are presumably trying to write on their own terms, and particularly when those people tend to have less power than the “Objective Reviewer.” It makes it seem to me like the Reviewer is presuming that the person whose work is under review needs or should want legitimacy conferred by the Reviewer, and that’s too much presumption for me.
I do get what you’re saying about the way the “male gaze” pervades the post, but I guess I would get that sense even if post had left out the bit about having an aroused reaction to some sections of the blog. The attempt to study the blog and make a pronouncement on it also has to do with imposing a gaze on it, like the one an old-school anthropologist might cast on “exotic” peoples.
That’s how the post rubbed me, anyway; I feel like the it could have read a lot better if it didn’t seem like the poster felt he could tell us what CCG’s experiences really are just because he’s read her blog where she writes about her experiences. If the post had only been about his valuing the blog because of the varying, complex ways it makes him feel and think about things–that is, more focused on him, but with a sense of humility that shows he knows he’s having those thoughts and feelings because of what someone else has written well–I think it could have avoided the creepiness. I dunno; does anyone else think that approach could work, or would it still be problematic?
[...] throwaway paragraph, peppered heavily with paternalism, about Deborah Jeane Palfrey. And then came this, which signaled the cue to stop any feeling of obligation to “give him a chance” or [...]
My thoughts on the post are similar to those of Amber and Ren. I noted and commend Thomas’ post acknowledging a need to look further at the issue. I didn’t think the post was ill-intentioned at all. But like I said at Ren’s, I’ve been in the booth with self-styled sex worker connoisseurs in the stripping context who were also very well-intentioned. And the fascination with tragic tales as the main course and groping as dessert (or vice versa) seemed eerily familiar. The mixture of rescuer, self-deprecatory fanboy and self-appointed shrink.
But hopefully I was wrong, as the guys in the booth didn’t go in much for self-reflection about this. I appreciate that this is being undertaken here.
And I guess I’m one of those old-fashioned feminists that doesn’t think a woman’s entire self-worth is wrapped up in what she does sexually. The phrase “selling her body” is *extremely* patriarchal and reduces sex workers to one aspect of their being: their sexual behavior. Sex workers are *not* selling their bodies – they are offering a service. Sorry but I thought that feminism didn’t subscribe to the belief that a woman engaging in sex with a man constitutes a transfer of ownership.
[...] first post at Ren’s that I linked was a discussion of a temporary replacement blogger at Feministe, who happens to be male, straight, and white (at least I think so, and I apologize if I’m [...]
It’s a excellently written blog, and it walks a very fine line pretty well. She’s a great writer, and so the sex scenes she writes are, well, they’re sexy. And the political writing she does is effective and serious.
Having the two together makes me feel vaguely guilty about the first, and I’m not sure what to make of that feeling. I mean, she knows that it draws readers in, and she certainly gives the impression that she enjoys doing it (writing, I mean.) But at the same time, you can almost get the sense that it’s just bait for her writing about the darker side of sex work. She wants you to be turned on and she wants you to work for better conditions for sex workers, which sounds like a damn sensible position for a sex worker to have.
The one I just left wanted to talk about family and love after our tryst in the sheets, and we talked about how sex workers help him be a kinder and more loving husband and father.
Any chance you could expand on this? We don’t here so much about johns with open marriages; the usual stereotype of a married john is of a man who compartmentalizes women into “work” and “play,” who cheats on his wife with a woman he and society both are happy to consider not a “real” lover or a “real” threat to his bourgeois marriage. In short, a misogynist of the most pedestrian variety. But since this guy is all about family and love, he must not be like that, so I’m interested.
(Of course he was in an open marriage; I’m sure you wouldn’t ever suggest that a man who cheats on and lies to his wife–whether with his boss, a waitress, a senator, or a sex worker; her profession is irrelevant–is interested in being a kind and loving husband.)
I think I’m missing something here. I guess I’m just one of those old fashioned feminists – I really don’t understand the empowering aspect of selling one’s body.
THANK YOU!
Sorry – renting out your body. Is that better?
We’re living in a world where a woman’s self worth is often wrapped up in what she does sexually. And where sex workers are considered subhuman. I’m patriarchal because I recognize that we live in a patriarchy? Are you fucking kidding?
It seems like criticizing the choice of sex work is taboo in young feminist circles. I can criticize women going into the military on political or pacifist grounds, and it wouldn’t be interpreted as me hating or vilifying female soldiers. Why are sex workers sacred? I can’t be supportive or neutral about a choice that I believe is ultimately damaging to the worker. I don’t think it promotes healthy gender relations. And I think all the rationalization and glamorization is complete bullshit. These opinions fall quite short of a rallying cry to brand sex workers with the scarlet “A”, or espousing a belief that the negative legal and societal attitudes towards sex workers are just fine, because they deserve it.
Yeah, it’s a real subtle distinction – I think sex work is a fool’s game, I think women who choose it are fucked up, and I think it feeds into the patriarchy and commodifying sex makes the fight for women’s equality more difficult. But I don’t hate sex, women, or female (or male) sex workers. Think you can wrap your head around that?
Well thanks for totally erasing the voices and minds of many women. That’s my cue to stop interacting w/ you.
Translation: All those fucked up sex workers are making it harder for ME to reach equality as a woman. How dare they!
I’ll second what Amber said: Way to silence other women just because you think they’re making it harder for YOU to reach some modicum of equality.
Yeah . . . so you don’t hate sex workers, you just think that they are fucked up and incapable of making their own decisions. Just like how anti-choicers swear that they don’t hate women, they just think that women who want abortions are fucked up and incapable of making their own decisions. How subtle of a distinction is that? You’re right that I can’t wrap my head around it . . .
You know, you can be opposed to sex work without insulting the women who do it. Just like you can be opposed to the military without insulting the people who work in the military. When criticizing the military, do you usually take the time to call soldiers “fucked up”? You can make an argument about how sex work or the military (I don’t think that the two things are related; I’m using the example given, and have far more ill feelings towards the military myself) has a negative impact on society without being patronizing to the individuals who are doing their job of choice. A lot of people will disagree with you all the same. But at least it leaves you with some integrity.
Of course, you’re free to feel however you want and to express that. Just don’t be surprised when you call a whole group of people “fucked up” and then get jumped on for your prejudice.
Yeah, actually it is. In fact…some suggested reading on the matter, really.
Funny, I don’t feel that way, nor, apparently, do a lot of other people. Sure, we might be the minority, but wow, at least we’re attempting to change that notion in some way. Is it patriarchal, by your own words and attitudes to propagate that image? Why yes, it sounds that way to me. Do you think a woman’s self worth is wrapped up in her sexual behavior or that a sex worker is subhuman, if not, then stop treating them as such, which, like it or not, intend it or not, but it sounds like you are doing exactly that.
Well, that’s because choice is a big deal to a lot of feminists. Really, women can do and sell a whole lot of things, make a whole lot of choices and no one says too much about it, but if she makes money having sex, it’s a huge deal. And sure, sex workers are not above critique, and no, you are under no obligation to support their choices. But it is patronizing to talk about what may or may not be damaging to an entire section of laborers, without seemingly taking in their own opinions on the matter. Do you detest mining, crab fishing, fire fighting, or countless other professions because they might damage the workers? Or is sex work different because those people are fucking? And really, let’s hear more about your theories on rationalization and glamorization, please…I mean, do you get to judge what is real and what is rationalization on sex workers behalf, or is she or he the ultimate authority on that for themselves…and most sex workers who write or talk about their jobs? There is plenty of not glamorous included. And damn straight they deserve more legal recourse and a change in social attitudes…but the change in social attitudes, clue here, you’re not helping.
Ah, so we’re fools and fucked up? Thanks…I appreciate that loads, really. So you don’t hate them, but you pity them and will be patronizing and discount their powers of autonomy and choice wholesale… you know what? Being outright hated is preferable. It’s a hell of a lot better than being regarded very similarly to a damaged little child with no ability to think, make choices, render decisions for themselves and need all this bullshit, for their own good of course. In fact, on a personal note as a sex worker and all, you know what the most fucked up, damaging thing for me about my job is? Attitudes like yours-flat out, point blank, end of story. At least when I get dehumanized or othered by a client or on a porn set, I get paid for it. People like you do it for free, and without my consent. That is fucked up.
Hey. So, sorry that I upset some people here, and thanks to those who remind us to listen.
About that specific john – yes, his wife knew that he saw escorts. They have two kids and a long marriage and both find sexual release elsewhere in an effort to preserve their family for their children. In my experience, that’s pretty common. He had been at church with the family, played with the kids, come to visit me and was then returning home for family dinner (all with his wife’s knowledge). In his words, seeing sex workers gives him “more patience, more perspective, the ability to really value what he has when he goes home and not ruin his marriage”. Since I hope we can all be pluralists here, remember that just because sex work isn’t your bag doesn’t mean that it’s without positives for others.
As far as renting/selling myself I do take a bit of offense to that. As I said, I am always in total control of what I do and make all the choices (who I see, what we do together, etc) I practice saying NO quite often. It is a service that they pay for, but for most of them the sex is nothing compared to the mental release of a new woman who will listen in non-judgemental way and treat them lovingly.
I guess therapy and a blow job aren’t really always so different.
As for how fucked up all sex workers are, that’s really pretty ridiculous. As an unregulated and omnipresent trade, there is every imaginable woman out there, some with drugs and abuse in their past, or deep psychological wounds. But then there are students, mothers, women who get off on the taboo nature of it, or are simply curious and trying something new.
Lastly, the comparison between women in the military and women in sex work is fascinating to me, although I think I am taking it differently than intended. I seriously considered joining the military and going to Iraq for a long time and still toy with the idea sometimes. I don’t agree with the war, but I realized that I can never understand what war is without firsthand experience. That drive to know the hidden social underbelly, to enter into the heterotopias that we’ve created (political, sexual and both at once) is part of who I am. As I wrote before, what I like about being a call girl is understanding more, even when I don’t necessarily like what I see.
I welcome more comments but would appreciate respect. Thanks.
kmach – I can.
But I will say this, and I think it is where some other people I connect with around feminism may differ – ever since finding out early on that the sex industry and modeling were the only two professions where women did not have the proverbial glass ceiling as far as income goes (and compared with what men earn in the same profession), I have not felt like I personally can get behind the idea of telling any other woman that she shouldn’t do it, that she’s the problem if she does.
That’s different than saying “all people in the sex industry are good so stop attacking them!” Some are pains in the ass. On my end, though, it is not their selling of sex that either pisses me off or alienates me.
Yes, I think the sex industry is harmful. Yes I think that a couple of vocal happy sex workers or johns-invested-in-spreading-the-happy-hooker-myth does not make for an industry full of previously unrecognized happy, well-adjusted people. Happy well adjustment is not at a premium outside the sex industry either, so I can’t really figure the math on how an industry that everybody knows is riddled with abuse is somehow the bastion of bunches of happy well adjusted people we never knew about cuz we were so busy delighting in the myth of the abuse-surviving victim.
Also, I don’t think that being a survivor of abuse and/or other trauma is something that makes me pity-able, or less human, less capable, less entitled to talk openly about whatever’s good and bad in my experiences. I don’t think it nullifies anything I have to say about the sex industry that others might disagree with.
I’m not saying you are dismissive in those ways. I’m thinking of this aspect and felt like talking about it because of discussions in this thread as a whole. Although I don’t personally find other people looking down on me to be a threat to my well-being, or certainly not anywhere near the top of the list of things I have to worry about as a woman and a person who is off and on in the sex industry, it’s also true that I’m not keen on *some* of the “sad broken person doesn’t know any other way than prostitution” narratives that almost seem like the only way some people can rationalize not-hating whores. I mean that sometimes it seems like it’s either “chhh, she’s just a whore,” or “aw, it’s so sad that she’s a whore.”
I don’t know if that makes sense. I’m chiming in not because I think Thomas meant to be a paternalistic dick, or because I disagree with you, kmach, about your critique of the sex industry. It’s hard for me to talk about but feels like it’s dishonest for me not to, the fact that I think even people who genuinely mean well can stereotype people in the sex industry, which is different to me than being able to take in the whole of it. I’m not on board with either meme, the “you must listen to sex workers to the exclusion of anyone else because we are telling you we are all only drugged up zombies!” or the “you must listen to sex workers to the exclusion of anyone else because we are telling you that it’s actually fantastic and you are silencing us if you don’t congratulate us on our happy well-adjustment!”
I can’t tell you how many people think of me as well-adjusted and basically happy and together and all those qualifiers that supposedly signal personal social success. *I* think those things are all true, but they are true alongside the fact that I still struggle with the occasional trauma-related hallucinations, with closeness that penetrates beyond a certain personal space I need, with fearing that the nicer and gentler a person seems at first, the more likely he is to really be a predator, with wondering if I am even capable of being turned on outside the dynamic of feeling consumable. In short, I haz fuckedupedness. I just do not get why something that is endemic across the board – having experienced abuse, sexual or otherwise, in one’s life – is so important to people to insist on or deny when it comes to people in the sex industry.
The sex industry generates and perpetuates and exacerbates abuses. That men feel entitled to access *some* woman’s body at all times is what creates and sustains that industry and all the abuses within it. I want to know why questions of whether I sell my ass or rent it or sublet it or service-provide it or whatever the hell is the focus of so much conversation between some sex workers and some feminists, rather than that entitlement, which is responsible for the abuses none of us has to claim or deny, because they are out-in-the-open systemic and not true-or-false personal narratives.
I know it’s bad for business – mine, at any rate – to talk about why men’s entitlement to women’s bodies is the problem, and how problematic it really is. I just don’t see the point in talking about much else to the exclusion of that truth, though. My two cents of long windedness.
I’m not a sex worker, but in general, having heard similar sentiments from oh-so-compassionate folks who don’t hate -me-, just -that lifestyle-, personally I’d rather be openly hated than patronized, thanks.
It makes me really sad that this even has to be said on a feminist blog. Thanks, Anon Working Girl, for your patience, even with people who are outright disrespectful and rude.
Since when is criticizing sex work “sacred” in young feminist circles? A glance through our archives will show that many people here (myself included) have issues with sex work, and especially how sex work operates in a patriarchal system. The difference, though, is that you won’t find many people here who see the world as so black-and-white as to believe that all sex workers are fucked up and that sex workers are to blame for doing the exact same thing as the rest of us — making their way through a thoroughly fucked-up system to the best of their abilities.
And as others have said, yes, you can criticize the military (or women going into the military), but I’ll bet you wouldn’t argue that female soldiers are all fucked up, or don’t know what they’re doing, or are bad for feminism.
Question: Are there any female-dominated occupations that aren’t somehow damaging to workers and that promote healthy gender roles? Any occupations at all that do those things? I agree that sex work in a patriarchal context is problematic; I agree that it promotes unhealthy gender relations; I agree that it can be damaging to workers. But I don’t see how that makes it all that much different from being, say, a stay-at-home mom, or a housekeeper, or a massage therapist. I can see the argument that there is something different about exchanging sex as a commodity, but to act as if that makes sex workers fucked up or all that different from other workers is kind of silly.
That’s an interesting premise you’re starting from — that all women who choose sex work are fucked up. It makes it impossible to argue with you, then, because any time a sex worker talks about her own experience, you’re going to write it off as the ramblings of a fucked-up individual. As Cara said, this sounds a lot like the anti-choice argument that all women who have abortions are fucked up — it’s a convenient way to disregard everything they have to say for themselves.
Waitwaitwait, because people found a phrase you used about their work patronizing, they are “sacred?” I don’t see how that follows.
Do most jobs, though? I really don’t understand why sex work gets singled out like this.
What glamorizes sex work? I think there is some recognition lately by some (and by no means all) feminists that we ought to support sex workers’ rights and their fight for safer working conditions. I don’t think that’s glamor.
There are a few autobiographies out there where I feel some people may be bragging a bit, look what I’m doing, etc. Even then, however, I’ve not seen anyone being anything other than VERY clear that sex work is not a bouquet of wonderful. I can’t think of any sex worker I’ve ever read who has claimed sex work is all a bed of roses. I HAVE seen some claim that some aspects of the work are fun, and a VERY small few (like Ren) say they prefer sex work to other jobs. None of that means it’s a fantastic job, or even that they recommend it to others. Ren has been very clear, for example, that she thinks most people WOULD NOT FEEL the same way about her job as she does.
So what’s the glamorization.
Cool, RenegadeEvolution – my check’s in the mail. Because having and expressing an opinion on sex work is the same as someone dehumanizing you on the porn set – no difference!
Jill:And as others have said, yes, you can criticize the military (or women going into the military), but I’ll bet you wouldn’t argue that female soldiers are all fucked up, or don’t know what they’re doing, or are bad for feminism.
Actually, probably not fucked up, but I’d definitely qualify many as naive. I work with a high school senior who is thinking of joining the military. I suggested she might want to stick with her original plan of college, since she’s got great grades. At seventeen, she doesn’t quite get that the military isn’t some fun and games party where she gets to act tough and hang out with guys (she only has guy friends, and pretty much despises her female peers) and she just laughed when I quoted statistics of sexual abuse of women in the U.S. military. Now, her decision is not mine to make, but, yeah – I think she’d be really misguided to join the military. It would be a fucked up decision. Am I being condescending? Should I assume a girl who, at five feet tall and ninety pounds, and insists that she can “take any guy in a fight”, might be a bit naive about reality? She wasn’t terribly offended when I said – please, you can do better than that. Because, like my posts on this blog, it’s just my opinion, my judgment – I’m not forcibly restraining her from joining up, and I’m not forcibly restraining sex workers from fucking strangers for money.
I think there are problems inherent in sex work. I think it victimizes women. I think sex work is inherently different than other kinds of work, much in the same way I believe that sexual violence has a different effect than nonsexual violence. The sexual aspect makes a difference – and whether that’s cultural or ingrained in the human animal, I have no idea. I think that women engaging in sex work are selling themselves short. The few women I’ve known who’ve been involved in sex work have been abuse victims. The author of the blog that this thread is about is the survivor of repeated sexual abuse. The statistics I’ve seen on sex workers show a preponderance of sexual abuse victims.
I apologize if I caused offense with the colloquial term “fucked up” for someone who has suffered sexual abuse, has psychological scares about it, and whose primary self worth is how valuable she is sexually to men. I actually think it’s less insulting or “damaged” or “psychologically vulnerable”. I don’t think that believing that someone has made a really stupid decision means that I’m actively silencing their voice or dismissing them as human beings.
I think that the fact men can commodify women, that women are objectified in this culture, and that sex workers are often subject to exploitative working conditions, and that they get short shrift in our legal system, are horrible things. (I guess I didn’t mention sex work from the johns’ angle because it seemed kind of obvious that if I find sex work ugly, I’d have problems with the men who are buying as well. Duh.)
By “sex work is sacred”, I do think – and the criticisms here prove – that somehow, criticism of sex work and women’s decisions to engage in sex work raises people’s hackles, in a way that any other judgment would not. I could offer an opinion on stay at home moms, or women in the military, or women playing Grand Theft Auto, or anti-choice women, or any other thing that gets debated here, and I wouldn’t be shouted down for silencing and dismissing women’s voices.
Great, I’ll be waiting, because it’s obvious to me you can’t see past whatever you want to see long enough to notice that as a sex worker, I find your attitude worse and more othering than a client or a pornographers, any client or pornographers, actually. Which hey, to some people might send up even a tiny red flag, but sure, I get it, the path of the righteous and all…and with the dismissing thing? You dismissed the words of every sex worker here for the most part, aside from what? A sarcastic snap to imply throwing money at me? Classic! That I actually find amusing. In a very, very fucked up way of course.
kmach: If you treated any of the above as the Passive, Voiceless Monolith that you seem to think constitutes sex workers, I’d like to think you’d be shouted down pretty quickly. Because you are being disrespectful and condescending, and because you think you are entitled to ignore the agency and choice of women who choose sex work.
As for your seventeen year old student who didn’t get offended when you told her she shouldn’t go into the military… I take it you’re a guidance counselor, then? You’re in an official position of authority with regard to this student, and it’s expected that you share your thoughts and opinions on her prospects and future? Yeah? Well, then, of course she didn’t get offended.
You are not in such a position of authority over any of the women who have spoken here. They didn’t ask you whether or not you thought maybe they could’ve made better choices–or whether or not you approve of their choices. You have forcefully foisted your career wisdom on grown women who are not your students, not your charges, not under your fucking authority. That’s condescending. It’s paternalistic. And it’s supremely fucked up.
You’re kidding, right? Aside from possibly anti-choice women, you likely would be shouted down for all those. And that’s because anti-choice women are trying to make choices for other women. The other groups, including sex workers who choose to enter sex work, are making choices for themselves.
I’m with Jill on “I agree that sex work in a patriarchal context is problematic; I agree that it promotes unhealthy gender relations; I agree that it can be damaging to workers.” What you’re not weighing in, though, is that because it does operate in a patriarchy, it is highly valued, and women can be trusted to do the cost-benefit math on our own (or don’t you think women can do math?). I don’t believe abuse victims are incapable of making rational decisions, and also have proof that not all sex workers are abuse victims.
There is a difference between saying you think, in the main and on average, something is not as worthwhile a career as certain others. I don’t think most of us would disagree with you that this is true for sex work. But that says nothing about the individual case, the individual woman’s decision. That is something you cannot know about unless you are she.
And I, personally, have said a similar thing about stay at home moms. (And gotten a lot of flack for it, I might add!) I don’t think on average it’s as worthwhile as having a career. Or maybe a better way of saying it is that I would think it optimal for the percentage of women and men working to be closer to equal — if more men stayed home, the penalties for women doing so would lessen. But I would NEVER say that a particular woman should not stay home. Because for many it does make sense and work. And how can I, without actually being them, know what is best for them?
…really? Have you ever read the threads where stay-at-home moms are discussed on feminist blogs?
There are a few issues that are guaranteed to start comment thread wars. Sex work is one of them, along with porn, “opting out”/stay-at-home moms, beauty rituals (hair removal in particular), and anything having to do with fat. So no, sex work is not sacred. It’s one issue that causes huge divides within feminist communities. It’s an issue that I’m still flushing out my own thoughts on.
But in the meantime, I recognize that sex work is not just a theory. It is a reality for many women, and when we talk about sex work, we often end up talking about people like they aren’t in the room. That’s a problem. And so while thoughts and feelings and theory about sex work is great and important, just like it is with any other issue, it’s also important to remember that we’re talking about real people, many of whom are making perfectly rational choices, and whom have diverse experiences and beliefs. No one here is saying, “Sex work is great! Always! For everyone!” No one here is saying that critiques of sex work are inappropriate. We are saying that sex work, like most things, is not black and white, and serves as a blanket term for a whole set of experiences that differ phenomenally from person to person. So to brand every sex worker as “fucked up,” or to assume that someone who strips their way through law school is in the same position as a child who is sold into prostitution is kind of ridiculous. There’s a lot to critique, but overly-broad criticisms of sex workers themselves are not helpful.
A sex worker may be merely offering a sexual service that constitutes only one part of her self-worth, but in our patriarchal society johns *think* they are buying access to her body and that that ‘purchase’ therefore makes sex workers worthless. e.g. the disgusting abusive comments by guys on CCGs posts about how ‘she’s just a whore’. I don’t see it as condescending or somehow unfeminist to think that sex work is not really empowering to women. Men still have the real power in our patriarchal society, so the virgin-whore dichotomy persists at a cultural level, whatever the individual level of empowerment. (Having said all this – to acknowledge the debate since then – I can’t agree that all sex workers are ‘fucked up’. I am more arguing it isn’t a zero sum game where sex work is either empowering and feministy or subjugating and repressive. Which is why I really appreciated this link to CCG.)
[...] and prejudices all over the place and not owning their shit, and/or talking about sex workers as if they’re not in the room (aka, Othering, as in, “You know, those other women, the ones who aren’t here and [...]