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girl for work

de Edwin Copley (2018-08-04)


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

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

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

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

A few months ago, I ended a relationship with a man I had been seeing for almost two years. In private, he was a massive supporter of me working, but around his colleagues and friends his tune appeared to נערות ליווי change. He'd introduce me, but hesitate in describing our relationship; when he explained, "This really is Kate..." the silence that hung in the space where, "...my girlfriend," should have been weighed a tonne.

I don't think that he personally had a trouble with me being fully a sex worker, but I do believe that the chance of others judging me – and then judging him if you are with me – was enough to make 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 usual questions one ponders before a romantic 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 just 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 the moment we meet, or before we say goodnight? Or do I throw it out randomly over the length 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 happy that I've found a line of work that I enjoy and supports me financially. Unfortunately, it has only happened once – once! – so nowadays, I find that a lot of responses fall somewhere within abject fascination and outright objectification.

Sometimes I end up on the receiving end of a thousand rapid-fire questions ("What's the weirdest thing you've ever done at work? Maybe you have had a celebrity client? Are the people all old and ugly? They're not, like, normal guys like me, are they?") which is better than 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 frequently I get my sexual health checks done and if I'm sure I'm not just a carrier of some mutant strain of gonorrhoea.

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

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

And even that is better than the possibility of physical violence from a romantic partner. I once continued a romantic 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 certainly one of my own articles, about sex work, out loud in my experience as I lay silently close to him.

Dating isn't easy for anyone. Even the act of experiencing to distil your entire person directly into a quick and snappy paragraph fit for a dating app is enough to produce anyone wish to throw up their hands and surrender to a life of solitude.

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

On the days when it's all a lot of, I find myself thankful for the easy, stress-free nature of transactional sex. One 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 simple.

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Instituto Universitario de Tecnología del Estado Bolívar

 

 

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