I wonder if I’ll ever get used to the invisibility of being a sex worker.

So many times I find myself at social functions merely watching as my partner is asked question after question about her professional life. “So, what exactly do you do in your work,” they ask her. She answers. They say, “Wow, it must be really hard to not take that home with you!” I watch.

Yet, while I’m watching, I can’t help but fantasize about the nature of my work – like when I was last in session, elbow-deep in someone’s ass while encouraging him to sexually express himself, work through his shame, all while talking dirty, maintaining awareness of his physical and emotional state, and breathing through the persistent cramping in my arm – all while looking damn good.

I’m not complaining about the activity mentioned above. I find nearly all of my professional domination sessions highly entertaining, and as most of you know, I thrive on helping people express themselves – in all ways. I just wish that there was more attention given not only to the nature of the work but to the difficulties faced by sex workers as a whole – like the difficulty of being invisible.

It would be nice to have people who seemingly care about me as a person to inquire about my work. I honestly don’t know the last time someone has. This is not a pity party. I’m simply stating facts. I think that’s why I’m grateful for the online community of sex workers I have, but I will say that writing words on a screen is no substitution for human connection.

I have gotten used to my work being a part of me that no one really knows about – no one except my clients that is. We connect in the red light of the dungeon, exchange some of the most intimate of human exchanges, and then we part ways. The magic comes and it goes. I suppose that’s like a lot of things in life. Always changing. Coming and going…