There once was a time when I didn’t identify as a Sex Worker. But then I woke up one day and realized, All the money I earn, Which funds my livelihood and dreams, Almost always, Coincides with an erection. Crass? Duhhh. Shocking? LET’S BE REAL. It’s no secret that our famous aesthetic (lip gloss to camel toe,) Moves (hair flips to twerking splits,) And smell (OHHH YOU KNOW THE SMELL,) Exists solely for SEXual stimulation, simulation and the promise of erotic possibilities in exchange for an agreed upon $um. Otherwise known as: WORK. (See what I did there) AND Oooooo LET ME TELL YOU, It was a glorious day when I finally owned the fact that as a Stripper, I was covered under the Sex Worker umbrella. Because it changed my fucking life. Identifying as a Sex Worker allowed me to finally recognize and honor in it’s entirety, The full scope of the mental, emotional and physical Work it takes to do this job. VALID WORK. HARD WORK. And anyone who’s been a Stripper for more than 6 months knows that This job is so much more than showing up, looking pretty, acting horny and leaving with a ton of cash. Sure, some days are like that... And Goddesss knows I am incredibly grateful for them. However, by only celebrating and validating our most fun and lucrative days, We are failing to acknowledge the full extent of the Work we do, Which can leave us feeling less than inspired when it comes to demanding & fighting for our rights. It is through the internet and it’s available resources that a lot of us have come to find identity as Sex Workers and In turn find community and support that has significantly changed our lives for the better. I march because I am anti-trafficking and pro-decriminalization. I march because I am one story on the privileged side of Sex Work who remembers what isolation feels like, Remembers what feeling powerless and hopeless when having my worker’s rights completely violated feels like, Remembers what battling internalized whorephobia, misogyny and shame in efforts to justify my Work feels like, I march because despite not always being aware of my classism, whorephobia and internalized misogyny, the door was left open for me to walk through, And when I did, I was welcomed with open arms. I march because we are magic and The consenting services each industry covered by this umbrella provides are valuable and worthy of laws that protect us not eradicate us.
I MARCH BECAUSE I AM A SEX WORKER.