Dear Sugar,
I am a young woman in an American city. I’ll be out of a job in a few weeks. Gulp. I’m in the process of entering into an arrangement with a man: we will rendezvous once or twice a week and he will pay me an “allowance” of $1,000 a month.
About this, I have many conflicting thoughts. There are the practical questions: is what I am doing illegal? Is what I am receiving taxable income? If so, how do I report it? Am I being paid fairly?
But also, more importantly: is what I am doing immoral? The man is married. He offered me this old saw: he loves his wife, he is going to take care of her forever, but she doesn’t want sex like she used to; she’s not the jealous type, and he’d tell her but he doesn’t want to rub her face in it. To me this sounds cowardly. I am a person who believes in non-monogamy; I believe in people making the choices that are the best for them. But I also believe in communication and respect and integrity. Am I complicit in something awful?
And my last set of questions, Sugar. Is this something I can do? Is this something I should be doing? I am theoretically pro-sex, but I’ve never really enjoyed it. I have all sorts of ugly issues involved–I know we all do–and I don’t know if this will make them better or worse. I am trying to approach the whole situation in a meta way, as an exploration of my feminist ideology–but every time I think about him touching me I want to cry.
And yet I am very poor. And though I thought myself employable, I am very soon to be unemployed. How much can/should I take my desperation into account?
I think I am going to go through with this, Sugar, so I don’t know what my question really is. I think I just want to know how people negotiate all this shit, and how I am supposed to be OK.
Thank you so much.
LTL
Dear LTL,
I said yes to this gig immediately. Within the hour, I realized I’d made a mistake. I was way too busy to be Sugar. The job pays nothing. I earn my living as a writer. Mr. Sugar also earns his living as an artist. There is not a steady job, trust fund, savings account, retirement plan, parent willing to pay any portion of our preschool bill, free babysitter, not maxed-out credit card, employer-paid health insurance policy, paid sick day, or even a middle class childhood between us.
Between us there are only two beautiful children and ten mountains of debt.
I can’t work for free. I can’t work for free. Of course I can’t work for free!
That was the mantra screaming through my head after I agreed to be Sugar. So, an hour after saying yes, I composed an email to Stephen Elliott and the former Sugar and told them that, while I was flattered they’d asked me to be Sugar, I’d replied too rashly when I accepted the job. I explained that—fun as it sounded—writing an advice column for no pay simply didn’t make sense at this point in my life.
The unsent email sat on my computer screen while I paced my living room thinking about all the reasons that it was perfectly unreasonable for me to become Sugar. Every reason was punctuated by a silent exclamation point. I had other writing to do! Writing for which I was being paid! Writing that would need to be pushed aside on a weekly basis so I could crank out a column! And what was a column anyway! I didn’t write columns! I didn’t know anything about giving advice! Plus, there were my kids! I was stretched thin already, my every not-writing moment consumed by caring for them! The whole Sugar idea was ridiculous from the start!
And yet I could not bring myself to send that email. I wanted to be Sugar. I was intrigued. Sparked. Something powerful overrode all the silent exclamation points in my head: my gut.
I decided to trust it. I gave Sugar a shot.
I thought of this when I read your letter, sweet pea. It made me think about what’s at stake when we ponder a gig. About what work means. About the fine balance of money and reason and instinct and the ideas we have about ourselves when we imagine we can be “meta” about our bodies and lives and the ways we spend our days. About what’s at work when we attempt to talk ourselves into things we don’t want to do and out of things we do. When we think a payoff comes from being paid and a price exacted from doing things for free. About what morality is. And who gets to say. And what relation it has to making money. And what relation it has to desperation.
Your letter unsettles me. There is the husband, in a yawning predictability that borders on hilarity, casting his decision to deceive his wife as a benevolent one. There is your own naivety about the logistics of prostitution—which is the correct term for the act of providing sex for money. Even if you refer to it as a rendezvous. But most of all there is you, dear fathomless bird of truth, telling me exactly what you know you must do.
And then turning away from it.
You don’t need me to tell you whether you should take this gig. You need me only to show you to yourself. I am theoretically pro-sex, but I’ve never really enjoyed it, you write. Every time I think about him touching me I want to cry, you say. Do you hear that, darling? It’s your body talking to you. Do what it tells you to do. Be its employee. It doesn’t matter what your head is working out—the monthly grand, the uncertainty of unemployment, the meta/feminist gymnastics. Putting faith in that crap might pay the rent, but it’s never going to build your house.
We are here to build the house.
It’s our work, our job, the most important gig of all: to make a place that belongs to us, a structure composed of our own moral code. Not the code that only echoes imposed cultural values, but the one that tells us on a visceral level what to do. You know what’s right for you and what’s wrong for you, honey bun. And that knowing has nothing to do with money or feminism or monogamy or whatever other things you say to yourself when the silent exclamation points are going off in your head. Is it okay to be a participant in deceit and infidelity? Is it okay to exchange sex for cash? These are worthy questions. They matter. But the answers to them don’t tell us how to rightfully live our lives.
The body does.
There might be women out there who can fuck men for money and be perfectly fine, but you are not one of them. You told me so yourself. You’re not cut out for the job, sweet pea. When it comes to sex you say that you have “all sorts of ugly issues” and that you “know we all do,” but you’re wrong. We all don’t. You do. I once did. Not everyone does. By generalizing your problems regarding sex and sexuality, you’re running from yourself. You’re covering your wounds with a classic it’s-okay-if-I’m-fucked-up-because-everyone-is-fucked-up canard. It’s a lie you’ve told yourself that has flattened down whatever hurts.
But what hurts remains. Something inside of you that has to do with sex and men needs to be healed. And until you heal it you are going to have to open and patch and cover and deny that wound over and over again. This job offer is an opportunity, but not the sort you think it is. It’s an invitation to do the real work. The kind that doesn’t pay a dime, but leaves you with a sturdy shelter by the end.
So do it. Forget the man. Forget the money. It’s your own sweet self with whom you must rendezvous.
Yours,
Sugar
106 responses
Every time, Sugar, every time. You are my medicine.
LTL,
The dis-ease you feel about the deal will make you sick. You can find a job that does not make you ill. This random reader believes in you.
Amen, Sugar! There’s absolutely no other way to look at this and no better way to have answered it.
Sweet. Simple. Sugar.
Desperation is a bitch. So it money.
Sugar, you speak the truth. And I’m so glad you followed *your* gut and took this gig despite the exclamation points! We are all the richer for it.
Yes — no other explanation needed… yes.
Sugar, you’re the best! Not once have I had the same experience, or even a fairly similar experience, as one of the people that’s written into you, but I always get so much out of your columns. It’s really hard to see the bigger picture in day to day life, to stay mindful and present and listen to ourselves (not just listen to the running commentary in our mind), but your column helps. You are like the big fish telling the little fishes “this is water.” Thanks for that.
Yes, Sugar’s dead-on, but the unaddressed issue—what a cheapskate! $250 a week to screw him once or twice (and I’m SURE this guy is going to want at least twice). I’m no expert on going rates, but that seems like quite the bargain to me. If you’re going to sell yourself, at least don’t sell yourself short.
(Not that I think you should enter into this arrangement even if he ups the money for all the reasons Sugar cited and more. . . .)
Beautifully put, Sugar. I would only add that, though the money will feel good in an immediate sense, the knowledge that you are doing something you hate will gnaw at you, LTL. It will exhaust you, drain you, and will, in all sorts of psychological & physiological ways, keep you from becoming the person you want to be.
This will not be the only offer you receive, LTL. You will get a job and make money without putting yourself in a situation you can’t stand. Other people have been laid off and have bounced back; I have, twice, and you can too.
Oh darling girl…I wholeheartedly agree with Sugar on this one. Taking a “job” like this is fraught with impossibilities, the foremost being the diminished capacity to say that most important word you will learn in your adult life—NO. It might be one thing if this were a person you genuinely liked and were attracted to, but I get the feeling this is not truly the case. How will you feel if he asks for sex and you don’t want to comply? How will it feel the first time you feel not like a mistress but a whore? (I hope you know what I mean and that I use those words not judgementally, but matter-of-factly). I, too, have done things I’m not particularly proud of, but the most important life lesson I’ve learned is to say “No” to the things that will diminish me, whether it’s a miserable job or sex or drinking way too much in an attempt to feel happy. You have told us in every way possible that sleeping with this man will diminish you–cripple your soul and your ability to love yourself.
Sugar’s advice is, as ever, spot on. I’d salso say that 4-8 sexual encounters is worth far more than $1,000 a month. Maybe I’m the crass one for saying it but understanding that sometimes we have to say yes even when our bodies say no, if you’re going to do a thing, make sure you’re compensated more adequately.
There’s a lot of assumptions going on about “this guy.” Also, a lot of the comments seem to be saying it would be OK if he were paying more.
Also, I loved this post so much and my love for it is not diminished by the dawning realization that I don’t agree with the conclusion.
This is great as usual, Sugar. It also applies perfectly to a ghostwriting client of mine. Thank you!
Anytime someone says “it’s OK for me to cheat on my spouse and not tell her,” that person is lying. Someone is about to get hurt very badly. And no amount of money makes that OK.
Take care of yourself darling LTL. Sugar thank you for your beautiful answer.
Actually my name is Bedelia, but somehow under that name I’m blocked from commenting.
If you feel like crying when someone touches you, and keep having to have it happen, it takes a very long time to heal from that.
I believe in you LTL. You are precious, and you don’t need this guy.
As always, a generous and loving answer to a complex question. May the force be with you, LTL.
Thank you for writing!
@Stephen: the three things we DO know about the guy is that he’s a liar. And a cheat. And that he doesn’t honor his commitments. So even without LTL’s misgivings, this is not a good person to be in business with. Aside from all the other complications, what’s to say he won’t lie to and cheat LTL also? If for no other reason, I’d run in the opposite direction. But there are other reasons.
LTL–please, please re-read what you wrote and trust what your gut already knows. And remember that there is life after unemployment.
Urk, I meant to add that it was a great answer, and as usual, perfectly written by Sugar. Good luck to you, LTL.
Sugar, you are something of a bodhisattva (I’m sure I’m not the first to say this:)) Glad you took the gig. Someday I’d love to know the name you write under — sure your work is amazing!
LTL you are splendid, and things in your life will get better. I know it.
To join the above chorus, Well put!
I have a lot of friends who marvel at sex workers and what they do; they think its so easy to make so much money in a few hours, but honestly, its never that easy and not everyone is cut out for it. So while this arrangement might work very well for someone else, clearly not for the woman who was offered it.
And yes, I agree this is not a lot of money for what he’s asking of her, there’s something to be said for a “regular” client and the regular income, even if its far less than a standard hourly rate.
You know, when I was young and friends or family would say, “Someday you’ll regret…” this that or the other, they were right. Do the work, unfuck yourself, get a job and live a life that you can be proud of.
At the end, when you are old, when you are alone with your thoughts, you will be forced to remember all the humiliating, stupid, pitiful things you did and all the opportunities and roads you refused to take.
Don’t hurt anyone, including yourself. You will always regret it.
LTL,
I did this once. I had been laid off, he wasn’t married. It seemed perfect. He rarely gave me a flat fee, but instead took care of things, bought dinner, a place to stay. The thing is, he grew uglier the longer it went on–felt he owned me. He would demand my presence in short notice and pull his support if I was busy. He saw other women but didn’t want me to see other men. I was to wait, available, for his call. Sometimes it didn’t come for weeks. It made me hate myself, but I couldn’t stop (I was hungry!) until I moved to another town. Eventually I met a nice man who respects me and who I respect back. We eat beans and rice, but it’s a million times better. Don’t do it.
The golden rule is treat others as you would want to be treated – and the deeper rule is ya gotta treat yourself that way first or everything else goes to hell. Sugar is spot on right as usual. Hear your own voice saying how this scares you, how this feels wrong for you, how the thought of it makes you want to cry. Be a friend and lover to yourself and take the advice you would give a sister, a dear friend, to walk away.
And for 250 a week, you can clean houses in a pinch – good work and good exercise to boot.
Oh man, I’m glad I’m not the only one who read the salary he was offering her and went, really? That’s it? You could and SHOULD get so much more for that kind of work, if that’s what you were to choose to do.
Anyway, this part:
“It’s your body talking to you. Do what it tells you to do. Be its employee.”
It really spoke to me. It reminded me of this job I had when I was in my early 20s. It was the post-9/11 recession and I couldn’t find a job in my field, so I started trying a selection of odd jobs. At one time, I was approached by a woman who managed a modeling agency about coming in to talk to her. I declined, because I was too old and I knew it, so she offered to have me apply for a job working in the office instead.
I was very excited about the prospect of working for a modeling agency, even a minor one in a second-rate city. I bought new “model agent-y” outfits and a new purse and settled into my new office, which was big and empty and overlooked downtown Tampa.
But then I learned exactly what was expected of me. My job was to take a stack of pieces of paper with names and phone numbers on them, collected by the agency’s models at public events (like the one I had seen the manager at), and I had to call the applicants up and encourage them to come in for an “audition.” They could either audition to be accepted into the agency’s classes for modeling or for acting, classes that cost several hundred dollars.
My stack of slips came from kids at local middle schools. I had to call them at home, then speak to their parents and try to encourage them to come into the office for this audition. Most parents refused, and many of them hung up on me, but a couple were just as excited – if not more so – than their children, and we made arrangements for them to come in. My boss sat in with me to watch my “technique.”
My first appointment showed up, entire family in tow, every one of them dressed in what looked like their best outfits. She was a thirteen-year-old girl, not more than five and a half feet tall, and she desperately wanted to be a model. I gently told her she wasn’t tall enough and asked if maybe she wouldn’t like to try acting instead. She would have done whatever I asked her to. She was so nervous. I wanted to cry for her.
When it came time to promote the classes, I lost my nerve. My manager took over and I watched as she put the hard sell on this family, this mother in her best clothes from JCPenney and this little girl who wanted nothing more than to feel beautiful, and I felt like throwing up.
I worked there for another week, and every day I cried and threw up before I went into my big, empty office overlooking downtown Tampa. When I went into work, I would do crossword puzzles while occasionally lifting the phone off the hook so my extension light would go on on the other phones, and I would look like I was working. And then I couldn’t do it anymore. My paychecks of $250 a week plus commission just weren’t worth it, and I quit.
I found a job working as a receptionist for a copy repair company, and even though that had its own issues – a boss who donated to George W. Bush, his son who sexually harassed me, shitty pay – at least I never felt like I was doing something that violated my own moral code.
Personally I think that sex work is more ethically correct than my job as a “modeling agent,” because with sex work the terms are direct and agreed upon and everyone involved should be consenting adults, but some people are just not cut out for certain kinds of work, and like Sugar says, if you are crying and sick to your stomach at the merest THOUGHT of doing this, then you should listen to what your body is telling you. This is the very literal definition of listening to your gut. Do it.
About “this guy”: Can he really not know how the letter writer feels about having sex with him? There’s no way that “when I think about him touching me I want to cry” is not communicated non-verbally to the other person. So what does it say about him that he wants to regularly have sex with a woman who does not want to have sex with him? It sounds like the letter writer might have sexual abuse of some kind in her past and that this man has picked up on the emotional residue of that. Consider that in addition to wanting sex, he’d also like to maneuver you into a situation where you feel degraded and trapped. Then realize that nothing he can pay you is enough compensation for the emotional damage that would do.
Re; commenters saying $1k per month is too low. Yes $250 per encounter may be lower than the market rate, but you always pay lower than market if you are willing to commit to a steady schedule. For instance, if I hire a maid to clean my house, it will probably cost $150. However, if I tell the maid to come twice a month for the rest of the year, she may only charge me $75 per cleaning. This is true of pretty much any service. So, $1,000 per month isn’t bad if it really will last for a year.
I am not telling this girl to do anything and I understand that the service in question is priceless, etc. etc. Just want to point out that the economics are not as bad as everyone thinks. And I don’t know how long each encounter lasts, but if you break it down into an hourly salary it is probably more than your average lawyer or doctor makes.
Im a sex worker and I have a few things to add from a business perspective.
1. The rate is too low. Unless one is doing very low pay work like street walking. Los low rate would be 150/session, mid would be 300-500 or more, and a high rate would be 500/hr or much more.
2. This situation sounds suspect. Most clients do not choose a mistress for an ongoing affair without playing together a few times first. It evolves gradually. A client who plans on something big without building up to a commitment is usually in fantasy mode, not negotiating a plan mode. This is a very common situation. Don’t count on the money lasting even if you decide to try it.
3. Never never never enter sexwork if you are financially desperate or have a drug or drinking problem. The desperation pressures one into dangerous or traumatic situations. If the experience doesn’t feel emotionally comfortable, that is traumatic! To approach sexwork from an empowered and feminist angle, you need to be in control of setting boundaries that work for you. That control is hard to maintain if you are financially desperate.
4. Sex work has a learning curve. It takes time and usually education and support from other workers to learn how to make it into a good experience. And a lot of willfulness. It almost always has bumps along the way that take resilience to recover from, as you learn from hard-won experience. If you don’t take the journey with a lot of careful thinking and self-care, it can easily become a painful experience.
Based on what you’ve described I don’t think this is the right situation for you, in my professional opinion! Please take good care of yourself and your life.
As always, Sugar, you find an eloquent & compassionate way to respond to a difficult question. I so appreciate how you answer the question honestly without judging the person posing the question.
Your compassion inspires me and gives me hope.
Thank you Sugar.
When I describe the content of some of the letters you respond to, people can’t believe that your responses would have anything to do with me or my life, or potentially, theirs.
But your words always relate and inspire.
Always.
Dear LTL,
Reading more of these price comments, I’d like to add my story. After ten years as a hooker one of my clients gave me a beautiful condominium across from Lincoln Center in exchange for being his on call girlfriend. He lived in London, I was in NYC. I thought it would be OK. But he wanted my life. I paid out so much more than I got in return.
If you feel the way you do about him touching you, it’s never worth it.
Love to you,
Bedelia aka My Fluent Mundo
Until flicked by feeling on a gildered street
I call you by name, my green, my fluent mundo
You will have stopped revolving except in crystal
W Stevens, NTASF
He also gave me a grand piano. It still wasn’t worth it.
There are things that shouldn’t have a price
do you think the gig came up as an attempts to resolve or confront her issues with sexuality? i would be interested in how the situation occurred and why the idea has gone as far as it is? it seems to me that she’s trying to go face to face with an issue and in the usual human way we do that, by putting ourselves in a shit situation.
i love this series, i love this website, really, these have made my life better, i wish this one was followed up on a bit more though.
sorry- i should proof read
do you think the gig came up as an attempts to resolve or confront her issues with sexuality?
i would be interested in how the situation occurred and how it has gone as far as it has. it seems to me that she’s trying to go face to face with an issue and in the usual human way we do that, by putting ourselves in a shit situation.
i love this series, i love this website, really, these have made my life better, i wish this one was followed up on a bit more though
First column I read from you Sugor – simple yet impressive. New follower.
@Sarah Says: Okay, you got me with piece of advice #3 — never to enter sex work if you’re desperate. This is not what middle class liberals think they know about sex work (or, at least, what my liberal arts college told me 25 years ago). “No little girl ever says, ‘I want to be a prostitute when I grow up,’ one feminist speaker told us wide-eyed college kids. They only do it out of financial desperation. Tell me what the real deal is. Why do it, and not something else?
You know, one of the things I love about Sugar’s columns is the commentary they inspire. Critique and praise, sure, but it’s the perspectives of others, the sharing of peoples’ stories that I find so heartening.
I used to work at a summer job with a closeted guy who would pay me $40 apiece for blowjobs. At the time I considered myself 100% straight. It was totally worth it, a few minutes work paid more than I would make in two days making minimum wage, after taxes. I bought some really cool boots. I bought a leather jacket.
Sage advice beautifully delivered, Sugar. (Damn you. Now I’m going to have to offer her even more money.)
Sugar nailed it. In addition, I think you underestimate how forcefully your body can impose itself into this arrangement. You could find it fighting to get free during one of these contracted interactions. You could find it literally shutting out this unwanted intrusion or having to get drunk to go through with it, discovering with horror that your resistance turns him on or discovering that you’re being held responsible for pumping up his ego as well as other parts of him when you can’t bear to have him near you. You could find the smell of him makes you throw up. I know these because I was in an arrangement where my duties were clear and I had a much stronger contract than yours; I was married to him. I still had to get out and it was not easy. BTW, I had a clear signal from my own inner voice not to go into this before I ever walked down the aisle. I ignored it.
if you’re not going to take the job, may i have it? when i get tired of him, i’ll threaten to tell his wife if he doesn’t cough up more money. it’s not like you’re locked into some binding contract where you have to hire a lawyer to get you out of it (marriage). it would pay the bills while you’re looking for work, and of course you don’t report it as taxable income. you just add it to your unemployment check and keep looking for a job you like better. but of course my suggestion will never work because we have to get into morality and emotions and the soul and shame and whatever else makes sex so impossible sometimes to navigate. maybe fuck him for free a few times and if he doesn’t make you vomit and if you aren’t in love with him, take the money and run. this sounds like the anti-sugar. but i love sugar. oh well.
Liz there’s an enormous amount of coercion and traumatic bonding in prostitution. Most women are broken systematically and threatened on a daily basis by pimps, and the wounds, fear and stockholm type syndrome bonding keep them in the business.
Would anyone want their daughter to be a prostitute when she grows up? How about one of the Green River Killer’s victims. I think it’s a pretty good litmus test.
The conversation ends, for me, with the revelation that him touching her makes her want to cry. Cry. Tears and weeping and sadness. I mean, really, no question: that’s the end of the story.
I once quit a job selling pharmaceuticals on the phone because the high-pressure tactics made me literally sick to my stomach. I had NO idea what I would do without that job (because it paid well), but I walked out on that 9-5 one morning at 10am claiming a tummy ache and never went back.
In hindsight, it was one of the best things I’ve ever done. That uncertainty I was so scared of led to many other jobs that, while sucky, DIDN’T make me nauseous, and along the way I made good friends, and had great experiences, and ended up finding my own way into a life that I love.
Sugar, I’m so glad you took the job.
Your advice couldn’t be more right for this particular girl– the economics of the situation would be relevant only if she didn’t have serious issues regarding sex which almost certainly concern other pain and trauma that needs to be confronted and worked through for her to ever really be ok.
Regarding the question of ‘this guy’, it seems like we can only really speculate– this could be a partly defensible (or at least understandable) choice not to tell his wife and so ‘spare’ her, depending on who they are and how they are, or it could be entirely a matter of justification. Regardless, it seems a sad thing for the wife.
Sugar,
You are amazing for your courage, wisdom, beauty and extraordinary words. Your advice here is an arrow that hits the soul’s center and ripples out to all of us. This sweat pea’s dilemma is everyone’s dilemma as you pointed out–the particulars are different but most of us have stood on the edge of making a wrong decision, questioning our intuition and gut.
Thank you.
The problem I have with the story is the premise that becoming a kept woman is the only option for the writer. I find it hard to believe there are no other jobs for her. I doubt there is a single town in America with over 20,000 people that doesn’t have a fast food restaurant looking for employees.
My point is not that she needs to take a job at McDonalds, my point is that choosing sex work is a choice to go with more money + less work. This is the problem I have with people saying the money is not enough. Lots of folks work long hours at brutally hard jobs for much less than she would be making with her arrangement.
I think sex workers don’t need our sympathy or our opprobrium (unless they are forced into sex work). To some extent, it’s a decision to take the easier option instead of choosing hard work and long hours. And anyway, even if being paid for sex takes a toll on your self-worth, so does standing over the deep fryer at McDonalds for 50 hour a week.
Aaron,
For 99 out of 100, sex worker is not more money less work. It’s slavery, which means unending work.
MFM– That’s why I included the parenthetical “(unless they are forced into sex work).” I understand from your previous comments that your experience with sex work was horrific. I don’t doubt that at all, but I think you are exaggerating when you say 99 out of 100 sex workers are slaves. I don’t think that’s true, at least not in the United States.
Any job that makes you want to cry, or makes you nauseous, is not worth any amount of money. You only live once.
I know it is very, very hard to walk away from a paycheck, but you’ll be okay.
I agree that it seems incredibly strange to even contemplate entering into this kind of regular gig without having ever slept together first. I’m not sure I even “believe” the guy. He might have sex with you a few times, be over it, and then withdraw from the financial arrangement. Too much uncertainty, among other issues.
I don’t think it’s about the going rate for sex work . . .
I think is the issue here is that you may be working with some really faulty paradigms in terms of your decision making. You seem to hope that taking this job would somehow be “feminist” or liberating, because you are theoretically pro-sex-work. But doing something that makes you desperately unhappy and being financially obligated to fuck a guy who makes you want to cry is never going to be “feminist,” no matter what kind of theory you drape over it. If you’ve read books or blogs that make it seem otherwise, consider the possibility that the writers of these books or blogs may NOT be smarter than you are, and may just be full of shit and have their own problems they’re trying to justify.
The only reason to do something you hate is true desperation. If you are going to otherwise starve and die, then do it, and hope/work to get over it later. We do what we have to to stay alive. But if the other option is anything other than starvation/death, for god’s sake walk away. You are not attracted to him and you morally object to the way he talks about and lives his marriage. Thinking of touching him makes you cringe. Why would being in any way under the financial power of this guy be “feminist?”
If you’re truly interested in exploring the intersections of feminism and sex work, you may have other opportunities in your future to do so, ways that feel more fun or empowering. Who knows?
But it’s also very possible that you are simply confusing “theory” with real life. There are absolutely (I know and admire some) some women out there who find sex work to be intellectually stimulating and liberating and feminist in a variety of ways. But this is by far the exception to the rule, and something I think a lot of young, smart women conflate and glorify in a way that is sadly naive. At the end of the day, being financially obligated to a man you don’t even trust or like is usually the opposite of feminism. At the end of the day, being a prostitute is a lot less like being some glamorous revolutionary feminist heroine than it is like being a waitress who, instead of having to touch the guy’s half-eaten food, has to touch his dick. Yeah, you provide a service that the world may on some level “require,” and maybe it’s not even an issue of right/wrong. But that doesn’t make the work rewarding, noble or fun.
If you don’t live in a paper box under some highway, I’m guessing you have better options than this. Listen to Sugar (she’s always right!) and try to keep theory out of it, and you will do yourself a huge service.
Good luck!
Oh would you people please stop pretending that choosing to do “sex work” when you’re young and desperate and stupid is going to be just hunky dory to your future life partner, your future offspring, your future in-laws and extended family, your future employers, etc. etc. etc.
My god, there are so many ways to make a living besides subjugating not just your body but your entire sense of self to “the fuck”. Is that all you can really imagine for yourself?
Selling your precious integrity for money.
Get a fucking life. Seriously.
Sex-positive feminism my big fat white ass.
Fascinating. I think Sugar nailed this, so simply, compassionately and beautifully. It’s not about how we the readers may think categorically about any job or relationship relative to our own experience. It’s about what’s right for LTL alone–this person in this situation. LTL doesn’t need to call in the armies of sex work or feminism to determine right and wrong here. She just has to believe that her own feelings are worth the highest devotion.
Wow Sarah E, aren’t you a barrel of joy. I wish I was as sensible as you about my choices in life. I wish I could fast-forward my gaze with 100% accuracy, so that I could know what choices would lead to what. It’d be like having some sort of Borgesian foresight, with every possible (infinite) actuality existing in my head at every single moment of my day. What a marvelous existence that would, yessum.
And I wouldn’t want to disappoint my future people. They deserve better from my present self. Even my future pet dog Salvo deserves better, and he (he’s not yet born; his mum is only two right now, give the universe a break) is going to be a real understanding kinda collie.
After taking a needed breather from this discussion, I felt compelled to respond when I read Stephen’s email this morning about Sarah E’s comment and hate speech. As an out feminist sex worker, the words above are undeniably hostile and shaming.
It’s easy to speak of things like “building a home” and “finding something else to do” when you’re an established writer, homeowner, wife and mother. In addition, I know damn well that the state of my lonesome heart and anemic career have everything to do with the decisions I’ve made in my life. If a person considers me for a job, all they have to do is google me and see that I’m a stripper and adult entertainer because I’ve chosen to be out about what I’ve been doing and I stand behind that decision. “Find something else to do,” you say.
My answer: “Find me a job.” Oh, I forgot. I should prefer to sling coffee or flip burgers and not tell them that I have a Masters Degree, because sex work is wrong and what will my husband think. Newsflash, sister. I refuse to hide.
Everyone has a past and sex work is a job that doesn’t have to be demeaning. It’s easy to make assumptions about people’s lives and ” What’s at work when we attempt to talk ourselves into things we don’t want to do and out of things we do. When we think a payoff comes from being paid and a price exacted from doing things for free.”
I don’t know anyone who doesn’t regret having to work all day in a cubicle for shit pay, but when it’s sex work, it’s some sort of demeaning tragedy to not feel like going to work. I’ve felt way more ashamed and burnt out working for a farthing and commuting 2 hours a day to answer phones at a law firm, only to have to cater, bartend and strip all weekend to make my rent. Many of you don’t have any sex worker friends or family members, or this discussion would contain more compassion.
Antonia
Sugar, you may not be paid for this gig, but in the karmic payback that is sure to come, the collection of Dear Sugar columns will be an instant bestseller and lead to a movie inspired by your enlightened visions. THAT will help put the kids through college, dear one. You are an incarnation of Quan Yin (and perhaps St. Teresa of Avila), of this I have no doubt.
And Stephen Elliott, please do edify us as to why you did not agree with the conclusion. Or perhaps you’ve done it already in a Daily Rumpus. I have to open my email…
“What’s at work when we attempt to talk ourselves into things we don’t want to do and out of things we do.”
this has to be one of the hardest lessons to learn–and maybe it’s a life and death kind of lesson.
also, i really, really love what sugar says about listening to the body, about listening to your heart, but not forgetting your gut.
Antonia Crane, thank you. Especially for this:
Many of you don’t have any sex worker friends or family members, or this discussion would contain more compassion.
Perhaps not a lot of readers here have experience of truly not having a safety net, of true need. Believe me, it changes your perspective.
I don’t disagree with Sugar’s advice, but I think a good argument could be made for another conclusion too. Is there perhaps a way LTL could enter into this arrangement while also making sure that she’s protecting herself, that there’s an option for getting out of it when she wants to, and agreements about her boundaries (once she figures out what they are)? A state of desperation is generally not a good state in which to enter sex work, as a commenter has pointed out already.
I wonder why we are, by and large, not particularly harsh on women who marry into money, thereby gaining a security blanket yet putting themselves in a position more permanent, rigid, and laden with implied obligations than LTL might be. Why do we not accuse them of having no regard for their dignity? Why does society venerate rather than look down upon CEOs who gain ther positions through family or influence, who profit from other people’s work, and who get rewarded for doing nothing?
It’s easy to heap judgements on people who are in survival mode.
Hate speech? Ridiculous. It’s hardly any sort of equivalent of the analogy Stephen Elliott made at all. I don’t “hate” sex workers, I would never discriminate against them. My cri de coeur is more about making the choice not to barter one’s body, which I find to be completely abhorrent.
I still think NOT choosing to do “sex work” is the best choice anyone could make. And I have known sex workers, still volunteer with battered women, some of whom fall in and out of sex work, and I have been desperate for money, too.
And saying that “sex work is not demeaning” just has this “protests too much” ring to it.
No one’s saying everyone has to toe some WASPy or straight middle-class line, but I do think choices made now should be thought about as to how you will look back on them later, how you will feel about them later, how you might want to go back and change things or wish you’d chosen differently. It’s really not that hard to do and I’m surprised to hear people act like it’s some crazy notion. It’s what our brains are designed to do, after all.
My cri de coeur is more about making the choice not to barter one’s body, which I find to be completely abhorrent.
So don’t. But don’t expect everyone to agree with your moral judgment either. Or better yet, keep that abhorrence to yourself. The world is changing–used to be that posing nude in a magazine would kill your career, or at least set it back a fair piece. Now? Not so much. So why shouldn’t attitudes toward sex work change over time? Answer–they have, and they will continue to. No one is going to force you to engage in sex work or even to like it, but I don’t think it’s too much to ask that society not openly demonize those people who decide to make a living that way.
“No one is going to force you to engage in sex work or even to like it” you say? Yet looks to me like both LTL and antonia are beind forced into it because they need the money, and they say/think they can’t get the kind of money they want w/o going into sex work.
You guys are mis-reading me – it’s not about *other* people demonizing you for choosing sex work; it’s about the distinct possibilty that *self-loathing* will be the result if you choose to do sex work. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that one might not fare well emotionally after selling out in such a way. We all sell out in so many ways; having sex for money is a line that’s pretty far out there, no matter what you say.
You guys live in an echo chamber that seems mostly to bounce between SF and Brooklyn. Despite your assurances to the contrary, attitudes about selling your body for money are probably not going to change too terribly much or too terribly quickly outside those zip codes. Can’t imagine moms and dads will coo with delight when their daughters or sons think going into sex work is a great way to use their skills.
Attitudes about sex work *may* change over time, but this letter is – surprise! – from a young woman who’s being propositioned by a much more powerful man – more powerful on account of he’s got the cash and she doesn’t. Just doesn’t seem like there’s the possibility for “consensual” in this kind of power relationship.
I know there are rent-boys out there, too, but it seems we mostly hear about the moral – yes, moral – struggle women like LTL is having. “How much can/should I take my desperation into account?” is a third-world, compeltely powerless question to have to ask. It’s unutterably sad to think first-world educated women are writing to trendy-cool online echo-chamber advice columnists to ask it.
Sorry, but there it is. Don’t act so victimized, guys: I thought you weren’t victims.
Look, this is a tired debate. I “could” do other things. And like many other privileged, white, educated, sex workers who blog, I HAVE done other things. And you know what? Working full time while going to school full time totally sucked. If I had known then, what I know now, I would have happily eschewed my respectable white collar jobs to work a few hours a week as a sex worker. I was desperate then–not just for money, but for sleep, time, relationships, etc. because of all the time spent working and going to school.
I’m not worried about the FUTURE people in my life who may not like what I currently do or may have stopped doing by the time I meet them. I’m more concerned with the PRESENT company I keep, which includes current or former sex workers, professionals, students, writers who are my friends and family–who all know what I do and are most likely going to stick around to be the future company I keep too.
If you didn’t blog, would you have done the sex work?
I’ve always wondered if people do things so their blogs seem more interesting.
Ah, yes: the present. The never-ending present. =)
Sarah E., if you insult the columnist again we’re going to ban you from comments. If you don’t know the line between civil discourse and lobbing insults then err on the side of caution.
To what, exactly, do you object? Is it my question about whether the act of blogging might push a blogger to do things s/he wouldn’t normally do so that the blog is more interesting or edgy? My response was to Justine Cross, who identified herself as a “privileged, white, educated, sex worker who blogs”, and I think it’s a valid question about whether the blog inspires a blogger to do things one normally would not do, for the sake of the blog.
My comment was not aimed at Sugar.
While I regret the tone I took with my first post, I’m pretty surprised that a dissenting view would be shut down so completely. I don’t think the issues I’m raising are outside the ordinary to conside, for people like the writer LTL,when wondering about entering this admittedly rarefied demographic.
“Keep your moral judgment to yourself” just isn’t something I’d expect from a free and frank discussion of this issue.
Sugar gets tons of “you go Sugar” and “you’re always right, Sugar1” . Which is nice. But it’s kind of weird to find that dissent is called “hate speech” and is threatened with being banned.
Here Sarah, is where you insulted the columnist: “It’s unutterably sad to think first-world educated women are writing to trendy-cool online echo-chamber advice columnists to ask it.”
If you can’t communicate without being insulting it’s better to go to a different website.
I really like this website. It has saved my day repeatedly since I discovered it; saved my life, really. I really like this column. There are times when I completely disagree with the majority opinion, or with some aspect of Sugar’s advice. But the longer I read this column, the more interesting it becomes.
I really like how open and honest and blunt folks are in the comments. It is an advice column, right, not the 10 commandments? So disagreement is okay. In some ways, it seems really in-line with Sugar’s (not to be sarcastic) gospel — as I read it — to listen to your best self, heart, mind, soul, body and to love wholeheartedly while also protecting that beautiful self. I think that includes forgiveness, and not assuming that someone who disagrees with you is attacking you, particularly in this forum.
I really dislike the “circle-the-wagons” approach to dissent. To call what Sarah E said in the comments of a column “hate speech” is watering down the term.
Is the tone of comments sometimes a little harsh, more barbed than one might find while hanging out together at a bar? Yes. And way more barbed at times than you would expect from a friend? Hell yes. Because it’s the internet. If only your friends are invited, it is going to be an echo chamber. But in general, even the insults stay on topic on this site. Which I find incredibly encouraging.
There’s a sort of insider/outsider vibe that gets going in these comment lines on occasion. I feel like not being from SF and hanging with the gang offline is a liability. I live in upstate NY. I’m not a writer. I may never meet anyone who writes regularly for the Rumpus. Maybe when someone gets a little mean, and a little insulting, it could just be ignored? Because usually then it goes away. Or the person who has been insulted could be the one to respond? That usually goes better too, from what I’ve noticed. More of a dialogue.
Mr. Elliott, sometimes it sounds like you are the personal guard dog, and if anyone does anything that raises your hackles, you bark at them. And you are the Big Dog on the site, so it can sometimes feel a little bullying, even though it is clearly meant to protect the integrity and honor of this site.
Most folks may disagree with me, and I’m going to try and take my own medicine on that. And who am I to even make these suggestions? Maybe they will be ignored – that’s cool too. And maybe I’ll stop posting to this website, and maybe Sarah E will too. I’m glad tho that we can still read it. Because even in the very messy disagreements there is some quality stuff here, well worth reading and thinking on and sometimes, sometimes taken to heart. And we each get to guard our own heart, right?
Lara
But the echo-chamber claim (not insult) is valid. I’m actually surprised at how people go out of their way to pat Sugar on the back, even when the advice is highly idiosyncratic and does not necessarily consider a view not consistent with what I call the “echo chamber” here.
Could you just step back a moment and consider that maybe, just maybe the idea that the Rumpus and it’s Sugar advice column might, just *might* be an echo chamber of white, privileged, educated, boho, counter-culture, I-am-outside-of-society-hear-me-roar blather? Even just a little? Because outside looking in kinda gives a different perspective.
And I do think it’s sad for a first-world, educated woman with loads of options that a third-world woman living in a collapsed-state-war-zone couldn’t possibly avail herself of would actually both be considering what you call “sex work”, but what is put very plainly fucking for money in order to make their way in their very, very, very different worlds.
I dunno. I just don’t see any of these women being interviewed for Dave Eggers’ Voices of Witness any time soon. It’s almost like Frank Zappa, were he alive, may god rest his soul, would be composing a song with Moon Zappa doing some “omg’s” and “gag me with a spoon” vis-a-vis “sex worker” blow jobs.
Look: if you can’t tolerate dissent, it won’t be the first time a tight-assed little community censored dissent and banned dissenters.
I still think many of you so boldly going where no man/woman has gone before will be rueing the day someday. And I’m sorry for your loss.
“Selling your body for money.” What does that mean? Don’t we all sell our bodies for money when we show up somewhere we don’t want to be because of work? Or is it only doing something more physical with your body for money? Does a professional football player sell his body for money when he squirms around with other men? What about a masseuse? Or is it being affectionate for money– what about actors who do make-out scenes in movies? Sex scenes?
It’s a strange euphemism for sex. “Sell your body,” as if your body is gone afterward– you sold it.
I can think of things people do for money that are a lot more physically damaging than sex. It must be a pride thing or just a puritanical view of sex relations– as if you have one “sex” to give away and once it’s gone you can never give it to future partners. Like some kind of distant echo of the cult of virginity.
I’m not living in a fantasyland– I understand that society doesn’t approve of sex work, so there may be repercussions (see, e.g., Antonia’s piece about going to jail). But those are externally imposed and a bit unfair. Society used to disapprove of black and white people marrying, or teaching women to read, or are all sorts of things that seem misguided in retrospect. Maybe the stigma attached to sex workers isn’t going away anytime soon, but I don’t see how this is a principled argument against sex work. You can’t say “the majority doesn’t approve so it must be wrong.” We all know the majority is often full of crap.
Theoretically, if you have no moral compunction about trading sex for money, it doesn’t seem like there should be a problem with doing it. Of course, no one should do it if it doesn’t feel right (as Sugar is advising). But this is true of all activities. If you don’t like blood, don’t get a job at the plasma clinic. But that doesn’t mean no one should work at the plasma clinic.
Judging by the tone of this girl’s letter, she doesn’t want to work at the plasma clinic. So Sugar’s advice seems right.
Maybe you’re right Lara. We’re just trying to find the line where we can have an intelligent discussion and disagreement without making judgements about people’s character and hurling insults. It’s tricky.
“Keep your moral judgment to yourself†just isn’t something I’d expect from a free and frank discussion of this issue.
I’m going to respond to this only because I’m the one who said it. People imposing their moral judgments on sex work is a big part of the reason, in my opinion, that sex workers are so openly denigrated, and by extension, so easily abused, and it’s a moral judgment based on nothing more than “that makes me feel icky and I don’t like it.” Seriously–find a rational reason why a willing person shouldn’t be able to engage in a transaction involving sex. You can’t. No one can. You can find all sorts of reasons as to why sex work as it currently exists is dangerous, and why it’s bad for certain people who are trapped in it against their will, but that’s not a problem with sex work per se; it’s a problem with the current system, a system which some people in the sex worker industry are trying to change for the better.
But that change is hampered when moralists act as though selling one’s body for sex is, by definition, abhorrent for all, rather than abhorrent for themselves. Forget the hate speech comparison–this debate is along the same lines as the abortion debate or same-sex marriage. And my response to people who call abortion immoral or who call homosexuality immoral is the same as it is here–don’t do it, but don’t presume to enforce your personal morality on me, or on society at large.
So what if one of the consequences might be that you feel some self-loathing afterward? I’ve never loathed myself more than I did after selling cars for six weeks back in my twenties. But I didn’t risk being ostracized by society when I told a woman who trusted me that I’d given her the best deal I could when I knew that 1) she was buying way too much car for her budget and 2) that I could have come down a thousand dollars more on the price and not hurt the dealership at all. I was literally sick afterward, and I lasted another week at that job before they let me go for lack of production. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to a customer. But while I could go back to my previous job driving a forklift, a sex-worker might not get the opportunity to find another line of work because that stigma sticks. How is that moral? How is giving a blowjob to a stranger for cash worse than playing on a person’s trust to get a little more money out of them?
We all have our individual taboos which we break at our peril. For some, it’s sex with a stranger. For me, it’s retail sales for commission. Lots of people would look at my story of self-loathing and think it pathetic, if not ridiculous, but for me it was very very real. But I’m not about to suggest that anyone who sells cars for a living should consider it carefully before they get into that line of work because they might regret it later. After all, car salespeople aren’t exactly the most respected members of our society either, now are they? See where this can go? You can hit almost any line of work with this.
Which is why making moral charges about people in sex work is, at best, reductive. It’s not part of a free and frank discussion, because a free and frank discussion requires that everyone’s humanity and right to self-expression be respected, and even if you don’t intend to negate those things, Sarah, it’s still happening.
I too love the discussions almost as much as the Dear Sugar columns themselves. All the various opinions flesh out the questions and the answers. Or I disagree with them so strongly that my own thinking is clarified. That doesn’t happen in a fawning, praise-only environment.
I disagree with Brian that moral arguments are not part of a free and frank discussion. As long as the various parties are civil to each other, then restricting this or that point of view for the supposed thought processes of the dissenter negates the whole free and frank thing.
I hope that Mr. Elliot can find the tricky line to walk between maintaining a respectful ‘room’, and allowing outright bile. Insulting the columnist with a personal attack unrelated to the topic at hand would be out of line. Insulting the columnist or other readers for being out of touch with the topic of hand, if the commenter has a basis for saying so, is not. A sex worker might have some legitimate call to say that the discussion is a little rarefied, when it comes from people who have never had any contact with it. When you decide to put your opinions out in a public forum, in a sometimes bracing manner, they will sometimes invite strong reactions.
This is a big topic, and the repercussions for the actions this young woman is contemplating could have big ripples in her life. It isn’t a moral judgment to point that out.
You cancelled the poetry sub (obviously in some sort of retribution since I did not ask to cancel it) that is a gift from me to a poet doing an MFA, someone I thought might enjoy and perhaps add to your discussions.
Punish me; don’t punish my friend.
That’s not true Sarah. We didn’t cancel anyone’s subscription. Probably something happened with your Paypal account.
Checked and there’s nothing wrong with my PayPal account. Quite active, in fact, since I have a lot goin on at eBay and etsy. Strange that it would be cancelled at this particular moment. And that I had to use a different email addy in order to post. Did you ban that other address?
No. You can’t ban an email address, only an i.p. address. You should be able to post with any email address you want. Paypal frequently boots customers from recurring payments for no reason. They’re the ones responsible for canceling your subscription. You should contact them and ask why you were unsubscribed. Or, we have a better subscription system now. Go here: https://therumpus-production.mystagingwebsite.com/subscriptions to resubscribe. You can also contact book club customer service. All the information is at https://therumpus-production.mystagingwebsite.com/bookclub.
It seems like whatever Sarah said wasn’t completely outside the pale. Maybe a bit strident but that is often the nature of internet comment boards. I have seen worse insults hurled on the Rumpus message boards. Maybe sex worker discrimination is a particular sore spot?
It seemed like the MFA and Ebert debates were more heated than anything Sarah has said. Anyway, I like Brian’s response. It’s a forceful counterpoint rather than a threat to silence the opposing viewpoint. Isn’t that the best way to conduct a discussion?
I think Sarah has a right to her opinion in that it echoes things that many young women contemplating sex work genuinely do worry about: what will people think if they find out; will it impact my future, etc.? Antonia herself, whose work I really admire on this site, indicates–despite rightly objecting to why this would/should be the case–that her work in the sex industry possibly does influence her other career options. So what Sarah says may be objectionable to my own world view, but it’s not without a strong social context.
It’s really sad that what people have done sexually is such a big freaking deal societally, but it does indeed seem to be true in most parts of this country. I mean, the Clinton blowjob scandal wasn’t so long ago . . . it’s not just sex work, it’s sex, period. Americans are obsessed with sexual moral judgments. And many young American women end up internalizing these views and, indeed, may be filled with shame or fear of others’ judgments if they have done something others would disapprove of.
Sarah is obviously one such woman, who really has internalized these judgments deeply and finds the idea of sex work extremely objectionable on every level, even among women who claim not to mind it or to enjoy it. She feels willing to make that judgment on a sweeping scale, not just for the letter writer but for ANY white, American, educated woman who chooses sex work, apparently. Hmm. It’s interesting to hear those opinions here, because I think most readers of the Rumpus probably don’t feel this way . . . but Sarah probably thinks more like the vast American public than the rest of us do, whatever we may feel about that. And the letter writer will live among and encounter that vast American public, so in some way (even though Sarah’s comments have been . . . well, kind of rude . . .) Sarah’s opinions may have helped the letter writer solidify her own opinions on what she thinks about sex work. Either that she can relate to or fear the people Sarah speaks of (and her own potential internal shame, which Sarah fears on her behalf), or she can say, “Wow, I really, really do NOT agree with that,” and realize that these things are not fears/issues for her.
(Here I have to add that I’m not sure why anybody would ever “find out” that the letter writer had taken cash from one particular guy. How would her future husband, in-laws, kids, employers ever know this? I think it’s a weak argument in this particular case, because this is a private arrangement, not a public form of sex work. I think it’s far-fetched to postulate that the man would somehow track down all the people in her future and narc on her. He’d be telling on himself, too, when he wants to keep his activities secret. But really, maybe the specifics are besides the point–it still brings up potentially interesting strains of discussion.)
For example: all this debate about body-for-money. I mean, actors, models, dancers . . . lots of people use their bodies to make money. Waitresses, housecleaners. People who marry money volitionally. Flight attendants who have to meet a particular weight requirement. There may be a body/money continuum, absolutely, but it’s not black and white. It’s not like prostitutes sell their bodies for money and nobody else on the planet does that. It’s not like sex workers are the only ones who may engage in bodily pursuits (for money or recognition) that they don’t always enjoy.
I came out pretty strongly for thinking that this letter writer shouldn’t take the gig. I thought the guy sounded irresponsible to offer an ongoing financial arrangement to a woman with whom he’d never even had sex–I thought it could be pie in the sky. I also think that the letter writer should keep feminist theory and potentially naive glorifications of sex work as radical/liberating/glamorous, etc., out of her decision making process, and go with the fact that she clearly doesn’t like, respect or want to touch the guy who made the offer. I thought she should consider her level of financial desperation in relation to her emotions, not some philosophical or political principal with which she is experimenting.
If she is truly financially desperate, for example, and not against sexual work, being a stripper would possibly be both more lucrative and less personally invasive (you don’t have to fuck anyone and are not financially beholden to any one person), and is a way a lot of young women have put themselves through school or gotten financially back on their feet. Though, of course, not everyone has the right personality to be a stripper. It requires a more performative personality and perhaps more social bravery than forming a liaison with one particular guy, even if it’s a guy you don’t like. And it’s more “public,” if the fear that people will “find out” is a fear that this letter writer cares about.
But the point is that there are a lot of other options besides THIS GUY. There are also usually other options besides sex work if it’s not right for that person. (Usually. Not always.)
Sarah’s comments initially irritated me, but I was ultimately glad to see the discussion around them. I don’t think they’ve really said anything that the letter writer wouldn’t already have considered herself–or considered that other people might consider–and I don’t think they (or things like them, in general) should be banned on the Rumpus.
Especially since if they were banned, other people with first-hand differing opinions, like Antonia, might not be driven to eloquently make their own cases.
But I do think Stephen’s right that people should try to be civil here and not name call. So many blogs are so tiresome that way, and the Rumpus does a great job of being a more open and accepting forum.
It’s not dissent that is the problem with the above discussion. It’s the shaming, condescending, dismissive and mean tone. Now the perpetrator has painted herself as a victim and I don’t think that’s right either. Also, I don’t think it’s helpful to point out that her level of hostility isn’t as bad as others comments on other articles. Let’s play nice, people. It’s not a bitch-slapping contest. It’s the Rumpus.
When people take risks, we open ourselves up to be publicly chastised (read:comment from SE dismissing me as a thrill seeker who does sex work for my blog). The mainstream has a legacy of clowning women in the sex industry. The Rumpus has a reputation for featuring articles from and about sex workers. Isn’t this something to be celebrated? Back to LTL, woman who wrote the letter to Sugar:
I agree with Gina above, that in this particular case, you are uneasy about the offer and should not take this detour into escort or a GFE (girlfriend experience) arrangement. It’s too risky both emotionally and physically for you. Some women can do escort work and feel good about it (I know this may be hard to grasp but try) but you is not that girl. Stripping is a safer, more performative route if you find a clean, reputable club. You can make plenty of cash, it just will take a few nights instead of one, but Gina is right. It’s less invasive, but exhausting. If you are a dancer, this could work for you. My advice would be to only strip while applying to other jobs that are more in alignment with your goals and your chosen field. Thousands of women have done this. You are not alone.
If you don’t want to strip, ask a relative for a loan until you find another better job?
There are many innovative ways to make money in the sex industry that aren’t about fucking and they can be interesting and entertaining. It’s a complex choice and you should think carefully about what your limitations and boundaries are before doing anything at all in the sex industry. It’s illegal (which is stupendous) and it’s not for everyone. It’s a difficult industry to transition out of once you’re in it. Considere Stephen Elliott’s mail earlier in the week when he said “Sex work doesn’t get harder, it gets easier.” For me, it’s been harder at times, like when I’ve been in love.
I hope this forum has been helpful for you.
Best of luck.
I think the interesting thing about the question of what other people (future or otherwise) think is this: how it can illuminate what’s actually important – what YOU really think. Can you justify your own position? Are you truly comfortable with it?
Gina, you obviously don’t know me. I’m in my mid-fifties, have worked for women’s reproductive rights since 1972, been a Planned Parenthood counselor, have volunteered with battered women for years and have escorted many of them to court for restraining orders. I’ve worked with the children of abused women. I have a masters degree in child psych. If there’s any “internalized shame” about sex inside me somewhere, I’m not sure where I’d go looking for it.
I do find “sex work” (prostitution) deeply objectionable based upon the effects it has had on the women with whom I have had personal experience, which, admittedly, are mainly impoverished women of color. Maybe there’s this whole cohort of white, privileged, educated, highly-evolved women out there somewhere who think prostitution (sex work – nobody in south nashville calls it sex work for some reason) is just great and life-affirming and their parents would be proud to know that about them. I don’t know anyone like that; somehow they only show up on blogs here at the Rumpus – maybe elsewhere too, but I’m not online 24/7.
So, it’s true: when I think about “sex workers” I think about women who really have no other alternatives; I think of women having to make third-world decisions here in the so-called first world because those are the “sex workers” I have experience with and they don’t go to conventions and stuff and bring back all this “sex-positive” rhetoric; and I think of women forced into “sex work” in countries where there really are no other choices for them.
I suppose I look at this hip white-girl “sex worker” that seems to make up the majority here at the Rumpus as a sort of, I dunno, “biker chick” of another generation – playing around at the outer edges of their known world. Nothing to do with shame, internal or external. Just acting out, and blogging about it.
Whatever. I find it extremely sad to think that women like the letter writer have to ask things like “how much can/should my desperation be taken into account?”
But that’s me, over and out.
PayPal did NOT cancel my poetry book sub, they said it was not done at PayPal but outside PayPal, and they said it had to be from the Rumpus. Maybe Brian’s fingers accidentally slipped on the keyboard or something. But no, thanks for asking, Issac, I won’t be re-upping. Being accused of hate speech from someone who doesn’t even know the legal definition of hate speech and being told to “keep my moral judgments to myself” are not the kinds of responses to posts I think can be overcome easily. Sweet pea. =)
And if “trendy-cool echo-chamber online advice columnist” is “insulting”, skins are even thinner around here than I thought possible. You writers! Such fragile flowers!!!!
I also like Brian’s explanation, and agree that the best counter to ignorance is information. So long as people are listening, talking is worthwhile.
I also believe that the greater part of wisdom is realizing the difference between projection and empathy. We need to recognize that others are not like ourselves nor like each other, necessarily, that we each have our own decisions to make and that advice is just that: advice.
I do think the whinging about the paypal stuff is pretty psychotic, tho. The people at the Rumpus are hardly going to turn down money from anyone. I mean, as if. Isaac gotta be paid!! So that’s just paranoid weirdness. It’s too bad paypal isn’t better about maintaining recurring payments.
This whole discussion has been a little like watching a train wreck, hasn’t it?
I think we lost track of the point–LTL. I’m haunted by these words: but every time I think about him touching me I want to cry.
That’s really the heart of this matter, isn’t it? You can think sex work is good. You can think sex work is bad. But what it comes down to is that it’s not good for LTL. Truly, she said so herself.
I loved Sugar’s reply.
I think Stephen overreacted to Sarah E.’s comment.
I just finished Patti Smith’s memoir. Was surprised to learn that Mapplethorpe turned tricks in his early 20s to support his art.
I too will side with Sarah E. – in the world I grew up in and live in, it’s prostitution and not “sex work,” and there are real consequences. I think Stephen was defensive and projecting.
Sarah,
I’m fairly sure Paypal is full of shit on this and just doesn’t want to accept blame, but I don’t have anything to back that up other than to say I personally don’t have any control over or even access to anything involving the subscriptions and neither Isaac nor Stephen have any reason to boot you out of that system. Paypal, on the other hand, has a vested interest in blaming third parties for foul-ups because they’re not dealing directly with customers.
I’m sorry that it happened (even though I didn’t have anything to do with it) because I feel like it raised the tension when things were just starting to settle down and it created a level of distrust that was entirely reasonable on your part. If I were in the same situation, I’d suspect the very same things you did, and be just as wary of the explanations. I hope you don’t leave the comments sections because even though we disagree on some levels, I respect where you’re coming from and the work you do.
I eagerly read these comments after Sugar’s column & have never felt compelled to respond myself. This time I must. Sarah, why so angry? Your opinion is valid & I have seen all opinions welcomed here. Your choice of words, however, are indeed hateful, judgmental & obviously inciting others to respond with escalating venom. I am reminded that LTL is no doubt still reading, after laying her soul bare seeking advice. If I were her, I would be cowering in a corner by now. You mention future children as a reason “not to do this” As a mother, I feel fiercely protective for the feelings of LTL right now, at the center of this train wreck. Ironically, as a mother, I know my kids are just fine with knowing the colorful details of my younger life, but probably are cringing at this response for entirely different reasons. [IE; it’s none of my business] I fit much of Sarah E’s self description myself, although I suppose I don’t count in her book as I am also Queer. Bohemian, a writer, have been a sex worker & live in San Francisco. I have also been a “boring suburban working Mom”. Sarah, your self description does not eliminate the possibility of “internalized self shame around sex”. Au contraire, my very personal experience with women that fit these descriptions exactly tells me that shame issues around sex abound. They abound in every “category” of people for that matter. “Methinks you doth protest too much.”
Blogging???? do you have some special hot button around that? As someone who has blogged some very personal, very painful stuff I can tell you, one doesn’t need to try something more outre in order to blog & be widely read. Real life provides plenty of fodder for the writer.
Sarah’s statement “I know there are rent-boys out there, too, but it seems we mostly hear about the moral – yes, moral – struggle women like LTL is having.” forces me to write as well. Do you really know, Sarah? Because I know as many, or more male sex workers most of whom are ,yes, also writers and artists. Let’s not discount them. It makes it hard for me to call this a feminist issue. The dismissal of male sex worker experience does raise questions for me about homophobia, however.
Finally, yes there is an urban, bohemian, arts, sex positive subculture often represented here. These are not the only readers or contributors to The Rumpus. By the way, unless you have met all those you lump into this category I’d be mighty careful with the “white, well educated, middle class” It is not quite true. You seem to be assuming race, class & education by inference. By dismissing one “group” of people’s opinions you are no better than one who discounts the opinions of other “groups”
I applaud LTL for coming forward with her dilemma & Sugar for lovingly & thoughtfully responding. The comments section provides a forum for others to offer differing points of view. By turning it into an escalating bile fest no one is served. Use your words carefully.
Finally, PLEASE….Paypal…REALLY????? C’mon, that’s just plain reaching & nastily paranoid or untrue. I’ve used Paypal on my own stuff. These kinds of mistakes are not all that unusual. I thought that was common knowledge.
Well, I think I’ve weighed in enough on this, but I do just want to say that (to Sarah) that I’m not sure anyone is actually disputing that there are many (most, in fact) prostitutes out there who were forced into the life, who have been abused and exploited, are uneducated, financially destitute and utterly desperate. Certainly there is no way in the world that Sugar, who has done much of the same kind of work you’ve done with women and abused girls (as, incidentally, have I) would imply that this oppressed population doesn’t exist. She’s written about girls in these types of situations in some of her other columns (see “How to Get Unstuck,” I think it’s called, which isn’t about prostitution per se, but is about precisely the type of girls who are at high risk for it.)
What the issue seems to be is that–because of the horrors this life represents for many women–you have made a sweeping assumption and judgment that NO women can or should engage in any kind of sex work by choice, with less traumatic (or not traumatic) results, or that the only reason to do so is so as to blog about it in some weirdly show-offy way for one’s boho friends in San Francisco. And I think this is way too big an assumption.
It takes all kinds out there. And because a certain system exploits or harms many women doesn’t mean there is no way that system can ever be revamped in an alternate way. After all, early feminists believed all marriage to be exploitive (some even believed all heterosexual intercourse was rape.) Being that strident really fails to allow women the power to define their own experiences and make their own choices.
Sugar, thank you so much for your amazing response!
LTL, you are a beautiful person and I wish you well. Sugar, you are very perceptive. Wow. Thank you for bravely being a writer, for freely giving/giving freely. That’s what makes the world go round.
It’s not a bitch-slapping contest. It’s the Rumpus.
Stephen/Isaac, you should add this as one of the tag lines in the Rumpus title bar.
Wow, okay. I just read all the comments to this. I’m a big fan of The Rumpus and a big fan of Sugar and I was a bit surprised to see how Sarah E was jumped all over. I in no way saw this as hate speech, just someone expressing her opinion strongly, which I thought the Rumpus encouraged.
I understand the morality and shaming argument that Antonia and others are making. But you also shouldn’t shame Sarah E for seeing things through a different lens. Absolutely Sarah E should be respectful but her opinion is just as valid as anyone else’s opinion. Just because it isn’t a popular opinion here, doesn’t make it any less valid.
I understand both sides of this “argument.” The “Moral” Me (and we all have one–it is what keeps us from murdering, stealing from babies and kicking puppies) tells ME (just me, not anyone else) that to me, sex is not something I would want to be paid for. It has a special meaning to me in the context of my religion, the way I was raised, my relationships, and who I want to be. Now, does that me I think everyone should have my Moral Me? No. If things are consensual and no one is being harmed on a physical, emotional or mental level, I really don’t care. I DO care about women, men and children who are forced or sold into ANY kind of slavery or abuse. But for grown men and women who have weighed the pros and cons, from hopefully an educated place, it is not my place to pass any sort of judgment on them.
BUT, neither do you have the right to call me a prig, or shame me for my more “traditional values.” I would rather work in a cubicle. I would rather go on unemployment. I would rather pick up the for-deposit cans after football games than let anyone who I don’t love touch me in that way.
If someone deeply, deeply believes that god created the world and someone else deeply deeply believes that we are a genetic accident that happened to cough our way up onto shore, nothing is going to change those opinions unless the PEOPLE involved want to change them. They read something and it clicks. They meet someone they love and think “huh, maybe there is a god.” A child dies and the believer stops believing. People change because they want to… (which may or may not be as a result of getting into arguments in the comment section of the Rumpus. 🙂 <3)
This is just for Telaina – thank you!. Now I don’t have to post anything because you did it for me.
I’m beginning to be sorry I weighed in on this at all but…Telaina, I totally agree that all opinions & beliefs should be free to be expressed here. I think Sarah’s is a valid one. What I object to is the heated,possibly hurtful, judgmental form of expressing it from her very first post. {and some of the assumptions made in later posts] It set off a trail of ever more bilious response….including mine, I suppose.
This isn’t a book review, article etc, it’s an advice column. One I believe real people with real vulnerability & pain are writing to. It may seem a strange place to some to seek help but I believe that for Sugar’s advice seekers it is their safe place. It’s clear that Sugar treats it as such. I think part of it’s value is in the comments section where others can proffer differing advice, reassurance or just plain care, even in the form of an answer quite different to Sugar’s. I think that in this case the tone, not content, of comments should be carefully chosen. Can’t we keep our words a little more gentle here but be free to voice differing advice & opinions?
thanks, brian spears. thanks, reddivadana. i’m exhausted reading all of these but it’s been incredibly thought-provoking. your comments are the ones that stuck out the most (in a good way, anyway). thanks.
LTL, whatever you decide, it won’t make you an evil person. Few of us get through life without making a few morally dubious decisions. For what it’s worth, I used to date an ex-prostitute and she was a very sweet, wonderful person. The guy’s proposal sounds pretty shaky and I’d advise against relying on him. But whatever you do, remember to be kind to people who made decisions when they were desperate.
“… worthy questions. They matter. But the answers to them don’t tell us how to rightfully live our lives.
The body does.”
Sugar, This does not just speak to me, it shouts!
For months, I ignored the fact that I would become physically ill in the presence of a (past) so-called boyfriend. The worst moment came when I was alone one afternoon in his place, fainted in the shower, and crawled to bed practically blinded (no metaphor intended), only to learn later what this charming fellah had been up to all along–ah, a level of deceit & cruelty I’d never experienced prior.
I will never ever ignore my body again.
Thank you, Sugar.
My ex roommate charged $250 per 15 minutes. You can figure out what can happen in 15 minutes. $1000 for the whole thing? 8 times a month? You’re getting ripped off. Plus, I bet he’ll show you even less respect than he shows his wife. Don’t do it, or find a better sugar daddy.
Just got back to this because I’m chicken at heart. This place continues to make me hopeful, everybody included. Thanks, Telaina. Thanks, Mr. Elliot. Thanks, Brian Spears. I hope Sarah E and Antonialcrane both still stick around, still post.
I became a Christian in college, the daughter and granddaughter of agnostics and atheists, in the main. Because of the particular fellowship I was a part of, I thought all Christians danced, drank at 21, smoked at 18 if they wanted, and voted democratic. It was a huge shocker when I encountered the actual Bible Belt.
I also had no idea what denominations were at first. And when I first found out about them, I was agog. Good friggin’ night, people! One love, one Lord — what on earth could be such a big a deal that you need 400 different denominations, all claiming to be the most right? It looks like couldn’t keep it together for more than 20 years at a go without some splinter group get a tick up their butt and marching off to find their own building and add a modifier to the name? The New Free Reformed blah blah blah…
Now I get it more. I would like to be a Mennonite, but they think homosexuality is a sin. I like the liturgy of the Episcopals but would like at my local church the lectern is an eagle — gonna guess they aren’t pacifists in the main. (Also the Anglicans are about to go through more cell division.) Quakers can be cool, but I like having communion every Sunday, and they have their own insularity issues.
I hope this place stays genuinely big tent.
Slap the word “advice” from your rationalization checklist. Replace it with the word “reminder”. With every word, you remind us that the house is already built. We just need to continue to keep it clean, invite each other in out of the rain, stock up on blankets during the cold season, and turn the soil in Spring. Reminder, Sugar. You get a new label, “Sugar reminds you what sweet is.”
I just found out about you and have spent the last hour plus reading and falling in love with you. As someone else in this comment section, and surely countless others, said, even though I don’t identify with the issues raised in the questions I always find that your replies strike a personal chord. And #62 is no different. At the same time, I think it is only 90% of a reply as the underlying financial issue still exists.
LTL – look at the extremes you were considering just to make $1k per month. Then think about all the other things that seem bad but not as bad as having sex for money. Any one of those things that pays $1k/mo is obviously a better choice and even some that pay less will ultimately be worth more to you. $1k/mo is not a lot of money, roughly $6.25/hour which basically means all you need to do is find a minimum wage job.
Right on, Sugar.
LTL, I hope you are taking care of yourself. If you want to read another perspective on being the “other woman,” I wrote about it here: http://lilyinthedesert.wordpress.com/2011/03/19/i-didnt-mean-to-do-it-a-cheaters-tale/
For anyone who makes it this far, I’m coming to this thread late and mostly want to share something with LTL.
Sugar’s advice is beautiful but I want to add something: Ask yourself why this work appeals to you, even though your body is screaming no. What parts of you are saying yes? For me, when I faced questions like this throughout my twenties, the parts of me who said yes (and often dragged the rest of me through it) were:
1. The part who felt so ugly, so undesirable that it seemed miraculous to be desired so much that someone would pay me. Having a tangible, market value for my sexual attractiveness boosted my self-esteem (even though I felt ashamed of this, as a feminist).
2. The part who hates men. Honestly. As a survivor of sexual abuse, I carried a deep hatred of men and their sexuality at my core for many, many years. Sex work felt like an opportunity to even the scales, to make them pay – and pay up – for being slaves to their desire.
3. The part of me who wanted to be a child still, and be taken care of. As a child I traded my sexuality for protection. I resented having to join the adult world, never having had a proper childhood, and being “kept” allowed me to fantasize that I didn’t have to – that I would actually be “taken care of” this time, rather than exploited again.
4. The part of me who could not have intimate, embodied sex. Playing a role is easy for me, being myself during sex is not.
I was once ashamed of all these parts, and had many feminist, sex-positive bits of philosophy I could spout about why I was really doing sex work, but not anymore.
LTL, listen to whatever parts of you feel enticed by this offer, and find ways to honor them that don’t hurt the rest of you. All kinds of sexual experiences and exchanges can be lessons, textbooks, and tests, but your body is your only teacher. Pay close attention to what it tells you, and always honor it when it says no. I have been celibate for the last three years because my body no longer trusts that I will say no when it needs me to.
**Also: my personal experiences aren’t meant to represent those of any other sex workers. I have many friends who still do sex work and I know how complex it is for them – I applaud anyone who can keep their own boundaries safe, enjoy their work, and help other people get off. My concern is mostly that so many of us were never taught how to keep ourselves safe.
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