How to Become Unemployable

Society is in Love with Sex but Still Mostly on the Down Low.

After graduating from a state university with dual degrees in the fast-moving, high-demand areas of History and Anthropology, I was at a loss as to what I could further do with my life to ensure that I would never have a “real” or “respectable” job. It didn’t take me long to settle on being a sex writer. As a working-class girl with no upwardly mobile social connections, a voyeuristic fascination with sexuality, and a desperate desire to be a writer, the opportunity literally fell onto my coffee table, so who was I to avoid a new way to socially isolate and marginalize myself?

One can argue about whether a sex writer qualifies as a sex worker. I think it depends on what kind of sex writer one chooses to be. Some folks zoom through the industry on their way to other vice or more mainstream markets and barely get a trace of scandal on themselves. Their hearts aren’t so much in the subject covered or the readership interested in it as they are in making money and achieving financial success, however, they define it. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Everybody’s got to eat and most of us have bills to pay.

But some of us, perhaps the ones with less good sense, stick around and find out. I’ve been writing about sex, the adult entertainment industry, kink, and alternative relationships for decades. When I ran for public office in Oregon, I did not hide my work in the biz. There was no point, really. I was already known as the “masturbation lady” due to my then-annual Portland Masturbate-a-thon fundraiser and quarterly play parties. As the editor of a regional strip club magazine, I found myself on local television periodically defending the industry’s right to exist, so my face was not unfamiliar to the citizenry. And then there were the closeted people who attended my large play parties. There’s nothing quite as sad and funny as four people who all work together worried that they’ll be seen by one another doing something they all enjoy.

Sadly, even in the big town of “Keep Portland Weird,” the chance of finding anyone willing to pay me a living wage and be both knowingly and proudly associated with the “masturbation lady” is questionable. The Los Angeles and San Francisco writers I know from the late ‘90s or turn of the century have largely gotten married, had kids, picked up jobs in IT, turned into freelance photographers, moved into the cannabis industry, gained advanced degrees in psychology, become veterinarian’s assistants, or killed themselves.

A few have grown their sex writing into modest self-employment careers that include podcasts, mailing lists, websites, workshops, presentations, books, and travel schedules. The more we can mainstream our offerings with technical advances and accessibility, the more easily we can spread our messages and counter well-funded but poorly informed writers like E. L. James and the 50 Shades series. If you want to really piss off a dedicated sex writer, praise the movies or the books. Also: plan to be forcibly removed from their home. It’s kind of like raving about Showgirls to an exotic dancer. Just don’t do it. Not if you want to live.

This brings us to more traditional sex workers. Strippers, booth performers, lingerie salon models, phone sex operators, porn stars, partial/full-service companions legal or otherwise, and more. Some include professional dominas in that list, although much depends on how you define “sex.” I once knew a pro-domme who insisted that her work had nothing to do with sex because she had never allowed her clients to fuck her. Instead, she had used a strap-on with them. By this logic, any man who has not had receptive anal sex is a virgin. I think what she did qualified as sex work even without the strap-on, but I didn’t tell her as much. She was scary.

Again, since there’s no retirement plan for the vast majority of people who do sex work or work within the industry that we’re assured makes god’s own weight in profits each year, many need to make an exit plan. Beyond that, not every mature woman wants to or can be a MILF like Lisa Ann, Sexy Vanessa, or Alexis Fawx. Not every gorgeous fat chick is an April Flores, Courtney Trouble, or Bunny De La Cruz. Not every guy with a big dick can hope to be a Legrand Wolf, Shane Diesel, or Lexington Steele.

For most who enter adult, the stay is brief out of an ignorance about how much actual work is involved in sex work, a lack of emotional preparation for its intensity, the absence of a long-term plan, and, frankly, because we’re so saturated with content providers. It takes more than just a pretty face, a hairless twat, a welcoming asshole, a monster dick, a cute butt, or perky tits to make it these days. It requires an ability to connect with consumers on a unique level and to either know how to handle all the technical and marketing aspects of the job or hire someone who does.

In the vast majority of cases, sex workers who transition into the “real world” do so successfully. Not everyone was a Cherry Pimps Cherry of the Month, so it’s possible to go to college, get married, and develop some kind of life you can talk to the parents about. But the threat of being “outed” is always there, even for those who’ve only shot a few scenes or photosets. This has lost worthy employees’ jobs in education and nursing, although I’m sure there are other sad examples of how the country’s insatiable hunger for sexually frank materials results in the punishment of those who make them possible.

Sexuality has been a battlefield for centuries. So many people have felt comfortable telling other people how to relate to their own genitals, as well as those of others. This has resulted in misery for pretty much every human being who has ever lived but, I believe, has been an extra burden for all ciswomen, disabled, BIPOC, trans, and queer folk. To have one’s sexuality or identity denied is to have one’s existence erased.

Historically, those who’ve stepped off society’s path of propriety have been shunned, abused, imprisoned, or even killed. Therefore, I consider sex workers to be among some of the bravest defenders of personal autonomy, and thus well worth respect and even admiration. If you think a job in healthcare is physically and emotionally exhausting, which it is, trust me when I say that sex work can be equally draining and equally rewarding. A lot depends on one’s situation, of course, but such is the case in all forms of employment.

In some ways, the more successful one becomes in adult, the slimmer one’s chances of blending in upon return to civilian life. I am reminded of the Vietnam veteran who returns home to dine with parents and says, “Pass the fuckin’ gravy, will’ya, ma,” before realizing he’s not with the boys in the band anymore. Not only do people recognize you as you become more high profile (duh), thus making mainstream anonymity difficult, the more comfortable you become with addressing and discussing matters sexual. Several of the performers I know have taken their experience and translated it into activism and education.

Speaking of which, imagine Nina Hartley, Sharon Mitchell, or Jenna Jameson applying for a job with Kaiser Permanente or the local school district. They may be as qualified as they come, but they’ve made people cum, and that’s a PR disaster waiting to happen. If I tremble at the questions, “So, what do you do for a living” and “What kind of writing,” I can only imagine what the people I write about struggle with, especially if they have children, or family that’s not in the know. The pressure to stop working in the realm of sexuality is real and constant.

Stigma against sex work is less in 2022 than it was in 1992, in large part because workers took some of the reins of power into their own hands, expressed their wants and needs, refused to be hidden, petitioned their government for redress, and in some ways even made sex work “hip.” An example of the increasing acceptance of sex work as something we can at least discuss now is the fact that the very descriptions “sex work” and “sex worker” were invented by Scarlot Harlot, a real sex worker, and long-time activist. It is increasingly becoming the standard when referring to those who work in the adult entertainment industry.

So, what do you do if you like working in adult and are willing to take the risks associated with it? For me, I seek wisdom in the words of our elders. I quote the great Annie Sprinkle’s “Why Whores Are My Heroes:” ‘2) Whores challenge sexual mores. 6) Whores are creative. 11) Whores have fun. 13) Whores have patience and tolerance for people that other people could never manage to put up with. 15) Whores are independent. 26) Whores have special talents other people just don’t have. Not everyone has what it takes to be a whore.’

If the word “whores” rattles you, consider replacing it with “sex workers.” Someday maybe we can replace the word with “humans.”