Charles Durning Carroll

As a frequent reader of sex columns in Medium, one of the most common stories I run across is of a woman who does sex work of one sort or another writing to defend her choices. The main motivation for sex work among most women, both on Medium and elsewhere, is that the money is good and the job provides autonomy and independence.

One key and unquestioned assumption about sex work is that it is work. (Calling a woman a prostitute, hooker, or whore is apparently no longer acceptable.) From the idea that sex work is work, several things follow: first — the woman isn’t necessarily enjoying herself; she may derive some pleasure from what she is doing, but in the main, we must understand she is labouring — doing something for which she deserves to be paid, and in general well paid. There are, of course, ways for a woman to make more money than she could make as sex worker, but there are few for which one can make as much money with as little training or formal education.

One frequent role for the female sex worker is as a kind of therapist. Just as a therapist’s office may be a place to discuss hidden assumptions about our own sexuality and desires, so the sex worker’s bedroom may be a place to act on those desires. Many men report that one reason they visit sex workers is to have a place to talk, to relax, and to be themselves without pretense. In this sense, visits to a sex worker have little to do with sex. Instead, what these men are seeking is companionship, perhaps even a moment of intimacy, a chance to be heard and to be seen. To the degree that we accept that sex work is a form of therapy, there follows an assumption that the sex worker is a skilled independent professional with the right to set her own schedule, determine the guidelines of her own work, and most importantly, set her own rates for what she does with her body.

Sex work certainly carries a number of significant risks for a woman. Depending on what activities she engages in and what we put under the umbrella term of “sex work,” she may be exposing herself to STI’s, to rape, harassment, and general tendency of her male clients to continually be crossing her boundaries and ask for sexually-related services for free or at a discount. It doesn’t take a whole lot of imagination to see that these conditions sometimes make providing sexual services a challenging task.

I don’t have the personal testimony of a large number of female sex workers, but in my experience I’ve never read about sex workers actually much enjoying the “sex” part of sex work. As one sex worker on YouTube pointed out, in a one hour booking, the sex part usually lasts for about five minutes. While there may be a kind of high that comes from being able to make a man orgasm, beyond this, it seems hard to see how the woman would be putting her heart or soul into the sex part of sex work. Indeed, in my reading experience, over and over again, the woman talks about how she has to make a kind of separate invulnerable self to do this work. Boundaries need to be firm—softness, love, openness, friendship, and most of all vulnerability are the enemies of sex work.

Sex work then, exhibits a kind of schizophrenic personality, for the primary stated reasons that men give for purchasing sexual services — to be seen and heard, to be honestly themselves, to be understood — are the exact opposite of the primary reasons women give — to make money and be independent. The things men want most from a sex worker (not sex it appears) are exactly those things women are working hardest to avoid providing them. In fact, as both parties realize, but are unwilling to admit, with a few exceptions for people who have unrealized fantasies or sexual trauma, buying the services of a “sex” worker is a surefire way to avoid sexual intimacy or vulnerability.

I have patronized sex workers in the past and I still consider doing so from time to time. At some point in the future I may do so again. But over and over again I come away from these experiences with feelings of disappointment and of sadness. I’ve never had what I consider a “good” experience with a sex worker. I’ve patronized sex workers of all types — younger and older, less and more attractive, at lower and higher prices. In sex work I’ve discovered, it is an inviolable truism that you do not get what you pay for; more money does not buy more caring, more love, more genuine companionship. The one commonality in all those experiences for me has been the feeling of exploitation — the sense that I was being used. The woman I was with cared not for me, nor for my pleasure; what she was after, was purely and simply what was in my wallet. This is entirely consistent with women’s own stated motivation for sex work: money.

I’m sure many will respond, “if you don’t like sex workers don’t visit one,” but I think it’s not that simple. Sex is a basic human need, and like all humans, I share that need. In my fantasies sex is not only good and pleasurable, it is also a means by which we connect with one another at both a physical and spiritual level. Perhaps this provides some explanation for why I keep going back; I keep hoping and expecting against hope that this time will be different — this time she will treat me not like a money pit, but like a real human person who wants love, intimacy and caring.

I know it seems like I’m against sex work, but I’m not. Rather, what I feel is a profound sadness that both women and men need to resort to sex work because there seems to be no better alternative. Why can’t we have a world where men can get the sex they need without the interference of money? Why can’t we have a world where women can make the money they need without having the need to sell their bodies for sex? Why can’t sex more often be the best it can be: pleasurable, wonderful, spiritual, and our deepest form of human connection? It would be nice to believe most intimate relationships provide this, but as the large number of sexless marriages attest, regular partnerships are no panacea for good sex. When it comes to sex, something else is needed, but we as a society haven’t found it yet.