Whore & Tell: Love and Support With My Sex Work Comrades

Editor's Note: this article contains mentions of abuse

Of all the things that sex work has given me (money, pleasure, autonomy, accessibility), the part I treasure the is the comradery, community, and LOVE from other women, which is something I thought I would never have.

Let me explain.

Through the quirks of the UK school system I was placed at an all girls grammar school when I turned 11. I was told it was for the best, they'd challenge me and invigorate my thirst for learning! But I was an undiagnosed autistic kid, with peculiar interests and absolutely no social 'armour' to protect me. Beyond the run of the mill bullying, something much more sinister lurked.

I was singled out by some particularly sadistic people (both adults and other children) and because I was all wide eyes, innocence and good intentions, they had an absolute field day destroying me to the point that now I have a cPTSD diagnosis and don't remember my life from the ages 11 to 20.

It's a little spoken about fact, and understandably given the male/female domestic abuse statistics, that women have equal capacity to be abusers. Quite often they're so socially skilled that they get away with it for much longer, knowing how to play the games patriarchal society expects from them, and often flipping the roles so they look to be the victim – yep, DARVO (deny, attack, reverse victim and offender) in full effect.

I escaped that school and my hometown at 16, but the damage had thoroughly been done. At an impressionable age, I learned that women were not safe. All I knew were the worst traits often falsely ascribed to them by patriarchy: manipulative, cruel, nasty, two faced, back stabbing, dangerous. That had been my experience every day for nearly 10 years so, in an attempt to protect myself, I decided women had no place in my life, I just could not take the risk.

I coincidentally went into a male-dominated industry in my 20s and that allowed me to experience the loving, dependable, stable friendships with men that I'd always desired. This was the first stage of my healing. I am forever indebted to the rag tag group of nerds in my first film jobs that slowly coaxed me back into trusting people again and seeing life could actually be ok.

Through my 20s I opened up to the idea of female friendship, but was often rebuffed as many women saw me as competition, not an ally, a behaviour I now know is another symptom of patriarchy. But every rejection felt deeply personal and so I stuck to men, despite having a deep yearning for the 'sisterhood' I saw other women experiencing.

In 10 years, London had introduced me to a wide array of people and the femmes I was most drawn to in that time were sex workers. Their diversity, radical politics, spirituality and total acceptance of others was irresistible and called to something deep inside me.

As a hypersexual neurodivergent person, I was curious about their work, but I also saw them as witches and healers, masters of their arts, creators of fantasy and fulfillers of dreams. I was bewitched. When these beautiful women offered their friendship, I jumped at the opportunity.

We'd share bottles of Chianti and cigarettes on Soho nights, swapping wisdom and secrets, clutching our chests from laughter as we cackled together, bonding over the human experience. I watched trial runs of their stage performances, read their budding novels and listened in rapture to their life stories.

I had found my women. 

Jolt forward to 2023 and the UK film industry imploded. I, and 1.5M other people were careerless. At this time I thought of my own skills and desires and that of these women I cherished and decided sex work was the natural next forward.

I took faltering baby steps into an industry which, let's be honest, can eat you alive, and all that time my women held me. They held space, organised shoots, gave me little black books, and screening tips. I had never felt so utterly loved.

As I began to settle into my new work, to my utter surprise and elation, I met more and more women and femmes with the exact same ethics, joy and comradery as my friends. The secret screening apps, the coffee mornings, the message boards are all places where profound bonding, love and support takes place, a love between women I never thought I would know.

Sex work in London was a leveller, the high class gals supported the street workers who supported the Dommes and the list goes on. I won't deny the whorerachy did rear its head a few times, but on the whole my experience was of unequivocal support, no matter your circumstances. There was mutual aid, equipment and outfit swaps, peer support groups. I was blown away.

Now I'm based in Amsterdam, where I'm slowly starting to find my feet and build my network, an indispensable community resource being the PIC. I know when I work I stand on the shoulders of all the workers I met in London and all the powerful people before them.

I grew up in a world where women only meant pain and abuse. Now I live in a world where women are my life blood, my support system, my spiritual guidance, my sisters. That is what I am most grateful to sex work for giving me – a profound love and sense of belonging I never thought I'd know.

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? 👇☂️✨