"I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a door mat or a prostitute." ~Rebecca West, "Mr Chesterton in Hysterics: A Study in Prejudice," The Clarion, 14 Nov 1913, reprinted in The Young Rebecca, 1982


Ah.

See, I had seen this quote before. had heard it before. But only recently did I know that "or a prostitute" was part of the sentiment expressed. Lovely.

Well, guess what, world. I'm a feminist and a prostitute. Yup, I peddle in sex and sexual expression. I spread it for money. I wear red lipstick and high heels and talk dirty. Sometimes I wrap my body in corsets and leather- like Bitchy says, I come wrapped, like a present. Or, to quote-


"Which is why sex working/burlesquing/wearing lipstick is somehow (mis)construed as *gaining* *power* because that’s where you get if you extrapolate far enough from female-worth = female-beauty. Even though nothing could really be less empowering than that central underlying fact that you are worth what men decide you are worth."


Ah.


Unlike retail, where I'm worth what the manager of the company (usually male) thinks I'm worth, according to my resume. Or unlike my lover, who decides how much I and our relationship is worth through his or her commitment. Funny, I think in a consumerist society we tend to judge people on what we think they're worth an awful lot, whatever your profession.

But- sex work is older than consumerism. It used to be sacred. And honestly, if I was in an environment where my housing and food needs were taken care of in a quality way, and if I didn't need money to get by the way we do now, I'd be a sacred whore, doing it for the energy and the exchange, not for the money.

But I don't live in that society. I need to put food on the table. If I want to be able to improve my life and quality of living, I need to make moolah. I choose to do sex work, where I set my price myself. I say, "This is what an hour of my time is worth to me," and if a man disagrees, he calls someone else. That's ok. It narrows down who I see into a bunch of men who appreciate me in ways I would never be appreciated in the working world.


And I am sick and tired of having to explain that, yeah, I do all that, AND I support womens rights. Yeah, I do feel empowered. I put on my lipstick, not as an expression of femininity, but as a femme. I put on lipstick, not because I feel less sexy without it or because men insist (I don't see the sort of men who would, though they do exist). I put on lipstick as an accessory, a piece of armor that tempts and marks me as "other". Lipstick is just the beginning of how I mark you as mine, before I strike you or piss on you. It is part of my ritual. It is as much a part of calling down the Goddess for me as my bath or meditation before a session.

During my sessions, we tend to explore queer sexuality. Rarely if ever has it been about penis in vagina sex- men don't come to me for that, because I demand more out of them (and, Bitchy, it's not that I don't like being fucked- I do, but really, I need sex to be more interesting to be hot for me, partner or punter). I expect them to challenge their assumptions of what makes male and female, what is appropriate and what isn't. We discuss and explore power- who has it, and how, and why. I enjoy demonstrating that penetration is not a male act, or even something only men enjoy. I enjoy discussing sex, and gender, and class.

And yeah, I also like sex, and I like sex with men. How does that make me less of a feminist? As a sex worker, I set terms, I create clear and defined boundaries. Sex work has taught me how to say "no" and stick to it. I don't see how that can possibly not be empowering.

Frankly, it doesn't really matter whether someone else wants to "approve" my feminism. I don't need anyone's approval. But I demand acknowledgment. I am a feminist, and a whore.

And I exist.