Someone held me up at gunpoint last night. I’ll never forget the smell of his cologne or the brick butterflies banging around in my belly swiftly moving my partially digested spam Masubi to my colon.
We’ve come a few teeny steps forward on the stigma-front (to all the SW activists, thank you friends you’re so brave and so excellent, I wish I was brave too but I’m so fucking tired) but it feels like the only SWers that some of society is willing to accept are a niche bunch: ritch bitches.
Setting up business as an independent sex worker means putting a lot of information about ourselves online: our photos, our carefully-written advertising text, and our working names. This content is valuable because it brings in clients (and income).