When I first started doing sensual massage I was 30 years old and I never had a client in his twenties. Now that I’m 43, I have many clients who are in their early, mid, and late twenties. I don’t know why. Is it mommy issues? Or just a tendency to trust a more mature provider? Fetishizing age? Fetishizing experience and competence? Am I just getting hotter and more alluring with every new wrinkle?
I’m not sure I believe that aging out of sex work is real anymore.
My neck skin is sagging, so are my tits. My hands look old and the clients keep coming. When I smile you can see all the fine lines and crow's feet around my eyes from many, many years of joy and revelry. I’m starting to see through the lie that these things make me less beautiful.
I have more and more white hairs around my temples and my bangs. I am entering into my crone era and no one is mad about it. It’s way less scary than they want you to believe it will be. The loudest voices of ageism are of those who have an interest in us despising ourselves, often because they want to sell us something. Maybe sometimes it’s a poor lonely man with an anxious attachment style who feels rejected.
I have become convinced that a sex worker is like a beautifully, intricately built castle or church. We get more and more gorgeous and charming with every crack; with every chip in the paint; with the color that fades from years of sunrises and becomes a new soft hue, an exquisite ode to sunrises. With every broken window, sliver of moonlight, butterfly, or songbird that comes in, adding a flutter, some color, a glow, and a song to our soft, open bodies.
I am entering into my crone era and no one is
mad about it. It’s way less scary than they
want you to believe it will be.
Sex and sexuality is not just for young people. So why should sex workers only be people under 50 or 60? That is, as my gorgeous, fierce bright white-haired, pink-lipsticked Grandma used to say, ludicrous. The more years I have under my belt as a sacred slut, devoting my hands and my attention to all kinds of bodies, the more complex, rich, and flavorful the sexual healing services I offer become. I will not stop and you can’t make me. I refuse to stop getting hotter and I refuse to stop working.
I am grateful that as an older provider, I get fewer creeps who are looking for new, inexperienced, or young workers to take advantage of. They think they can get away with more with younger providers, and they are predatory. No one deserves those creeps and aging out of that clientele is a relief and a blessing.
Sometimes clients prefer younger providers because they’ve simply bought into the very western, colonial idea that youth is the epitome of beauty. That getting closer to the grave puts us further away from desirability or sexual aliveness. This is complete bullshit. Any queer worth their weight in sex toys knows that sex and sexuality are about so much more than procreation and of course we know this as sex workers too. We see and experience sex, sexuality, and desirability outside of the colonial, cis-hetero framework of conflating sexual attractiveness with peak fertility. Sexuality and connection are so much more than that. A younger provider is not better than an older one and an older provider is not better than a younger one.
The best clients, who I believe also end up being the most satisfied clients, see providers who they feel moved by or drawn to, outside of society’s arbitrary beauty standards. The best clients may also step outside of their comfort zone and question internalized arbitrary and ageist beauty standards. Obviously, a great client would never choose a provider based on how vulnerable they see them as or how much they think they can get away with.
The best clients, who I believe also end up being the most satisfied clients, see providers who they feel moved by or drawn to...
There is a difference though, when I look back from my working life now, at 43, to my working life at 30. Clients treat me differently. I barely get grabby clients anymore. I haven’t gotten a pushy client who rudely disrespects my boundaries in forever. It was so much more common when I was new and young. I was also physically a lot smaller, seen as vulnerable, and maybe easy to grab at or have their way with.
I know these aren’t universal truths, it’s just my experience. I’m thick and strong and middle aged now. The years of experience traversing sexy terrain with clients has fortified my bones and my breath with power. I have a confidence and a competence I didn’t have at 30. I also enjoy my work so much more than I did at first. I’m able to be present and to enjoy myself. I’ve been at it for so long that a sensual massage session is my safe, comfy, peaceful place.
Maybe I will quit one day, when I’m 66 and I’ve convinced some sucker to pay me to do something else. But on my magic pussy, I swear it won’t be because I’m too old, no longer hot, or not young enough, because I’m telling you my sweet, sweet spring chickens, that shit is just not real.
Are you a sex worker with a story, opinion, news, or tips to share? We'd love to hear from you!
We started the tryst.link sex worker blog to help amplify those who aren't handed the mic and bring attention to the issues ya'll care about the most. Got a tale to tell? 👇☂️✨
