Do I look Different? A photo commemorating the first time I was paid to professionally Dominate!
Does a muscular man moving heavy boxes from one apartment to another deserve to be paid for his labor?
What if he’s good looking?
What if he’s friendly, and chats or flirts with you while he does his job?
What if you’re turned on watching him use his body for your benefit?
What if you specifically hired him for the job because of your attraction to him?
Why would a woman moving her body to the rhythm of music, who’s often employing years of dance training, social grooming, and a deep understanding of how to navigate social norms with an eye to her own safety, who’s certainly maintaining a physical lifestyle on and off the stage (which is what allows her to do this work in shoes which are far less than ideal), not be afforded the same obvious answer?
“I want a sugar baby relationship, but I don’t consider myself a sugar daddy, and I don’t want to date a stripper or anything like that.” This is an actual sentence someone said to me this week. It’s not the first time I’ve heard this sentiment (by far), and it comes off comically quaint, disturbing, harmful, and dripping with ignorance every time I hear it.
We pay for things we appreciate in this society. We pay with money, and frequently emotional, psychological, and intellectual labor too. Money is a part of how we literally put value on that which we admire, support, and wish to spend time with or acquire. This is a consumerist and predominantly capitalist nation, after all. There are plethora reasons individuals engage in various forms of sex work, both as workers and as clients. I would say that most of these reasons are personal, and at one point or another almost everyone has done it. Who hasn’t watched porn, read erotica, been to a strip club, paid to learn about various sexual or sensual techniques (reading books, instructional videos, and taking classes counts), or any other number of arousing activities with price tags attached?
Our culture’s limited and deeply judgmental conversation about what adults are allowed to negotiate consensually with one another in private or in spaces designed for adult sexual and sensual activity is steeped in layers of misogyny and almost always hypocritical when broken down into parts for examination.
One glaring example of this I’ll point to, is that when we talk about sex workers we’re generally not talking (or often even thinking) about male sex workers. Unless you’re a gay man (and sometimes even if you are), let’s be honest about that for a minute. Male strippers, escorts, sensual massage practitioners, full service sex workers, professional Doms, sugar babies, and pool boys — cis, trans, bi, gay, or straight — are not the people we’re characterizing as hussies, wh*res, pr*stitutes, or sluts. We don’t usually entertain thoughts of the men who service clients for money when we invoke the idea of a “sex worker”. When we do think of them it’s often with a certain emotional curiosity, eroticized amusement, as the punchline of a whimsical joke, or (often in the case of the gay community) with a certain respect of position and normalized-to-nonchalant acceptance.
Mainstream culture is literally invested in mandating that women, trans people, and people of color not have the benefit of pay when it comes to capitalization off of the objectification and sexualization of their own bodies. The only caveat to this is when someone else (usually male, and frequently white, cis, and heterosexual) is selling the product and profiting as well, as is the case with most porn production, strip clubs, brothels, and pretty much all of the advertising industry.
Historically, women, queers, and people of color have occupied the teaching, dominant, and practitioner roles when it comes to community highlighted and/or ritualized sexual exploration. Consider the histories of sacred intimates, to some extent concubines and courtesans, and the titillating romanticism surrounding Dominatrices. How can these historical practices and the archetypes which accompany them — so seemingly natural to the human condition — be traditionally maintained and yet so thoroughly and consistently demonized, subjugated, abused, killed, and terrorized? I mean, duh, “Patriarchy” — but let’s unravel that a little bit and delve into our own brains searching for clues. I offer a few musings relating to the unexamined politics and hang-ups I’ve observed many people have concerning sex work and sexual autonomy. Enjoy. And think about it:
If you believe in a woman’s autonomy but have a problem with her choosing what she can do with her body, with whom, or how much monetary value she can attach to her time and actions: you probably shouldn’t be having sex.
If you support blue-collar workers and unions, but you have a problem with sex work or are not for decriminalization of sex work: you might be a hypocrite.
If you believe in trickle down economics and entrepreneurialism, but you’re against sex work: you’re definitely a hypocrite.
If you watch porn and still think of sex work as a joke: you have a deep misunderstanding of your own desires and behaviors.
If you enjoy going to strip clubs, but wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with a stripper: take a long, hard, think about what that means and why you feel that way. Do you think that people who engage in sex work don’t have sustainable private lives? That they are always promiscuous? Can’t love their partners deeply? Are cheaters? What do your answers to these questions say about you — the person who enjoys patronizing places where strippers enact their profession?
If you don’t understand that strippers, cam performers, pro Doms, full-service sex workers, sugar babies, and all the other people with jobs which require performance of sexuality of some type or another, are people with families, complicated lives, basic needs, bills to pay, and that they experience the full range of human desires and responsibilities you do: you’re dripping with misogynistic reasoning, and are probably transphobic and racist to boot. Think about how these ideas are connected and how you might want to adjust your understandings in honor of these complications.
If the idea of women doing sex work makes you uncomfortable, squicked, angry, or anything other than hopeful they have a safe life and are in a good situation, yet the idea of men doing sex work seems funny, sexy, unimaginable, or fantastical: you’re out of touch with reality and perpetuating misogyny. If you’re a woman or queer person who thinks this way, you’ll want to work on self loathing issues.
If you don’t believe sex work is work: reconsider your position. Educate yourself on how sex workers actually function in their daily lives to maintain their bottom line.
If you don’t believe that objectification should be a consensual activity and a choice to engage in or not by the individual being objectified: Go apologize to every woman, queer, POC, and other minority person you know. Seriously, think about it.
If you don’t understand the difference between legalization and decriminalization: do some research on decriminalization to understand how it works and why it’s a better, more all encompassing option for safety, meaningful infrastructure, and empowered workers and clients. Decriminalization is what sex workers want, and even what Amnesty International calls for. If you support sex workers you should care about how sex workers believe their own industries should be run.
What other thoughts, complexities, or questions come up for you while examining these subjects?
Play On My Friends,
~ Creature
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