Deprogramming the Whore

The good and bad parts of being immersed in the sex work industry for over a decade.

The only thing that separated him from my clients who meet me discretely for romantic rendezvous that their families certainly don’t know about is that my clients respect me enough to pay me for my professional finger to the lips.

I’ve been redecorating my apartment. I started with tearing out the ugly, “landlord special” single dingy grey cabinet in my kitchen and replacing it with beautiful open-air wood shelving that showcases my treasured collection of carefully collected cups, plates, ceramics, art, and plants in a way that made my kitchen 100000000x more appealing.

I’ve also moved around some furniture and gotten rid of some old things while picked up some fabulous new things. I’ve trekked halfway across the city sniffing out things from Facebook Marketplace, and returning home triumphantly with pieces that weigh several hundred pounds that I then ask my very generous and patient neighbors to help me drag up to my apartment, which is situated on the fourth floor.

Have I mentioned that I don’t have an elevator?

When I threw a party recently, someone I really loved told me “your apartment is really sexy.” When I asked them what they meant, they were quick to point out the small details, the cool little things that meant a lot to me that made the space just a little more tongue-in-cheek chic and fuckable.

But as I dither between paint swatches and overpriced antique furniture finds, I also wondered what others would think, people who didn’t know me as well, and whether the space would be overwhelming, or simply put, too sexy.

Is there such a thing?

I also had a talk recently with a friend about sex-positive communities in general; we were getting ready for a party and she was putting on a barely-there see through top. Underneath it, she was applying pasties to her nipples. I had never once seen her do that because she’s a girl who loves to be loud and proud, but she said that while in many of our normal communities people wouldn’t have said anything, the party we were going to tonight was a bit more “civvie.”

Sometimes, we are so immersed in our communities and our specific fishbowl that our view of the rest of the world is distorted beyond the glass.

Sometimes I feel that, when I almost impulsively buy this swimsuit just for the shits and giggles of it, or I wait in line to buy the next copy of Petit Mort simply because it’s a magazine about the erotic and I feel compelled to collect erotic things around myself, less because I am personally interested and more because…. well, that’s who I am right?

Sometimes though, I wonder if my normal is normal, or if I’ve been in for so long and so deep that I have no idea what normal is anymore.

I’ve been taking a step back from work and from sex in general to do a little bit of a detox lately, or in my mind what I’ve secretly been calling “deprogramming the whore.” When I step away and let myself breathe, is this still who I want to be, still who I am happy with? Or is there other things I want to pursue?

After all, it’s hard to be an Ironman athlete and someone who snorts coke and fucks at sex parties all night.