Within many sex worker social circles, the prevailing wisdom is that not sharing rates allows us to avoid confrontation between workers who charge less and those who charge more. I’ve heard the mantra a hundred times, “no rates in the space”, and every time someone says it in my presence I get a little more angry. For whose benefit are we stifling discussion about our pay?
Classism and whorephobia collide to create the idea that selling sex is a degrading act which can be mitigated or even made empowering if only sex workers charge enough. Those who have rates on the low end of the spectrum and have close physical contact with clients are placed at the bottom of the whorearchy. Hierarchy breeds conflict.
The stigma around low rates causes many sex workers to feel embarrassed when discussing how much we charge, including (and sometimes especially) when we talk to other sex workers who may be charging more. I have felt the same lump in my throat when speaking to my peers about how many clients I need to see to pay my bills as I’ve felt arguing with wealthy clients trying to haggle down my prices; I am embarrassed to have my sexual worth be seen as low. My embarrassment is then compounded when other sex workers insist I should respect myself more and raise my rates, or when they react with confusion or shock upon hearing what I really earn.
Keeping quiet about our rates to avoid rate shaming doesn’t resolve the underlying problem that even other sex workers seem to think that selling sexual services needs some sort of financial excuse. The attitude that selling sex is only prevented from being degrading when the hooker is high-end is poisonous and we have to counter it and excise it from our communities.
Classism and whorephobia collide to create the idea that selling sex is a degrading act which can be mitigated or even made empowering if only sex workers charge enough.
I should be able to talk about making £15 per quickie I sold in the last brothel I worked at without my peers falling over themselves to insist I had no respect for myself when I asked for so little or cringing in distaste. Wealthier sex workers are never going to learn to respect those of us who cannot demand higher sums from clients unless they are confronted with our existence in their vicinity. Sex workers have a common struggle against stigma and criminalization, so it can be easy for the more privileged among us to forget the ways that money reduces those issues if we’re not open about our additional struggles.
Higher earning sex workers tend to assume most other sex workers charge similar amounts to them, also over-estimating the pay of those they do realize have lower rates. I’ve had other sex workers ask me why I don’t consider an expensive solution to a problem I’m having, as if it’s not obvious the answer is poverty, because they have no sense of my economic status in spite of knowing roughly how many clients I see. At least when people know I’m poor, I don’t get callous questions about why I don’t just pay 6 months of rent upfront to avoid the need to verify my income with a new landlord.
This ignorance about rates is usually one-way, because people who charge less are frequently working in venues without transparent prices, on the street, or over the popular escorting sites but without a significant social media presence. Our peers with more expensive services are far easier to find. In the absence of total transparency about our rates, resentment grows. Poorer sex workers know damn well that other sex workers out-earn us, meanwhile the rest remain blissfully unaware.
When we do share our rates, the potential risk of shaming pales in comparison to the opportunity for support and awareness of third party exploitation. We can compare the prices at our respective venues for a dance or a fuck, so we know when we’re being taken advantage of. Inexperienced sex workers can get an idea of the average rate for whatever demographics they belong to, from people who’ve been in their situation. If no-one who uses a social space for sex workers discloses a low rate, it makes everyone aware of the ways a space might be inaccessible or hostile to poor and/or survival sex workers and we can seek to change that. We cannot be effective at combating harm towards sex workers without openly sharing information.
Poorer sex workers know damn well that other sex workers out-earn us, meanwhile the rest remain blissfully unaware.
I want to feel nothing but happiness for my friends who tell me about huge tippers at their strip clubs or raising their rates to quadruple what I charge, instead of having those emotions tainted by a lingering concern that they’d question my self-esteem or inherent value if they knew my prices. To achieve that, I need to shed my shame and have the support of other sex workers who won’t pile it back on.
Looking at all the benefits that being open about our rates can have, particularly for the most marginalized, I can’t help but feel that the real reason for hushing conversations about pay is for the comfort of wealthier sex workers. Those of us who’ve given blowjobs for the cost of a coffee don’t have the luxury of holding the belief that selling sexual services can be rendered honourable when they’re expensive enough; we either cast aside the idea that selling it needs to be justified at all or we drown in our internalized whorephobia. Our peers who would rate shame us should be forced to confront these problematic attitudes too. Sex work doesn’t need to be excused with high pay because it doesn’t need to be excused at all!
No matter how uncomfortable it might make others feel, I will not hide the highs or the lows of my career selling sex and porn. I’ve been homeless and sold sex for the cost of my next meal and I’ve had a single overnight booking that paid my rent and bills for the month. The fact I was the same person selling a similar quality of sex in both scenarios should lead any reasonable person to the conclusion that my rate isn’t a reflection of what I’m worth in any capacity. I will be honest about my rates with other sex workers for everyone’s benefit and I hope more of my community will join me.
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