Being a Client

People often come to me looking to absolve their guilt about having been a client, or continuing to be a client of sex workers. I am not here to absolve you. I don’t centre the experiences of people who purchase sex, I centre the experiences of sex workers.

When I see sex workers talk about how their experience with a significant portion of clients being disrespectful, people who purchase sex seem to comfort themselves by saying they aren’t that type of client. This ability to self-comfort starts to break down when I, and others like me, talk about discomfort selling sex in general. If we discuss that we don’t enjoy our encounters with clients and that we feel discomfort even with those who are respectful and kind, they can’t tell themselves they aren’t that type of client. They can’t even know, if the sex worker they’re seeing is enjoying the encounter, because lying and fulfilling the fantasy that we love it is part of the service for many of us.

Often I will take short breaks from seeing clients, or see a low volume of clients for a while, then go higher volume once I badly need money. There’s discomfort in seeing clients, sometimes it’s annoying or makes me dysphoric to receive feminine compliments and to have to present with my sex worker persona. It’s the money that makes it worthwhile and brings me elation when I’m looking at it after an appointment.

I can see why understanding this will make clients uncomfortable. To admit that you’ve helped to cause some discomfort like that can be difficult. It’s uncomfortable to admit that you’ve contributed to any suffering for someone else. The thing is, we all do this all the time – these same people buy products that are made in poor working conditions for unfair wages. Many of us go to restaurants or bars where the workers have been on their feet for 8 hours and us ordering something complicated is frustrating for them. There are any number of ways that we might impact someone. Going to my corner shop during this pandemic and buying a couple of drinks, therefore potentially exposing the employees there or exposing myself, and not even giving them much money for it, is a way I’m causing someone discomfort.

People will sometimes divulge to me that they are a client, as part of an assurance that they care about sex worker rights. It’s important to understand: telling me that you are a client does not make me think you’re more likely to respect me. Plenty of johns are significantly misogynistic or hateful of sex workers, some see us as objects. Using your status as a client to try and convince me I should trust you does the exact opposite, because it makes me think you don’t understand the reality of how I experience ‘relationships’ with clients.

A significant portion of my clients try to talk me out of using protection, either when they contact me or during an appointment. Plenty of clients will push boundaries, or push me into positions that are obviously uncomfortable or painful. Some will be nice but ask me extremely personal questions and make me uncomfortable in that way. Often men who tell me they respect my profession and that they’d never disrespect me, will be the same ones pushing my boundaries later in a session, who see that as fine because it’s not violent in the sense that they’re taught sexual assault is. Some do certain things too quickly for me to have time to tell them not to, like rimming me and then moving their tongue to my vagina quickly afterwards. Twice, I’ve been given bacterial vaginosis by men who do this before I can push them away, who I’m sure would claim they’re well-meaning and didn’t realize. Hell, this is without people asking me if rimming is okay, and if someone starts before I tell them no I’m often weighing up if it’s worth the argument of asking them to stop once they’ve already started.

If you have guilt over being a client, it’s not my job to council you on it. If you want my honest thoughts on your specific circumstances and your method for being as ethical as you can with hiring sex workers, you can pay me for that opinion. Better yet, go and seek therapy to deal with these turbulent emotions. Either way, please stop bothering marginalized people and expecting their opinions on your actions, every time they talk about their experiences.

Talking publicly about my experiences in sex work is hard. I’m constantly battling against stigma. What I don’t need is to have to coddle the feelings of someone who pays for sexual services, while I’m doing all of that.

I’ve had clients I appreciate. Not every one of them is bad, plenty are just fine, and the work can be somewhat uncomfortable still – just like a long shift in a traditional workplace can be boring and irritating. I don’t see those clients as being any worse than customers who come into a restaurant when someone is at the end of their shift and their feet are hurting whilst they wait their table.

I shouldn’t have to say that, because I shouldn’t have to be worrying about the perception of clients when I’m fighting for basic rights for myself.