The relationship between sex work and power is complicated, to say the least. While I doubt anyone grows up dreaming of becoming a sex worker (marrying rich is probably the closest thing), there’s definitely a divide between the amount of autonomy any given person has in getting and staying in the field.
Sex, Power, and Sex Work
Most people are driven to sex work due to some level of poverty (aka lack of power). But being a mother of four in a developing country who exchanges sex for money because she lacks the opportunity to pursue a different trade is a far cry from the sugar baby living in a cosmopolitan hub who uses sex work to subsidize her gym memberships and shopping sprees.
Internal influences also play a role in the power dynamics of sex work. For instance, I naturally have a passive personality when it comes to sex and interpersonal relationships yet a reactive — some might say rebellious — approach to my relationship with society. That in combination with the role of the spoiled baby I play in my own family paired with my sexual attraction to wealthy, powerful men made sugaring a good fit for me.
Financial desperation paired with a desire to break out of the good-girl mold is what got me started on my sex work journey, but I stayed in it for as long as I did because of who I am. I was not the driven med school student doing sex work with a clear goal of ending my arrangement upon graduation. I was the lost, adventure-loving vagabond drawn toward men who had what I wanted — power.
Society’s Distain Towards Sex Work
Oscar Wilde wrote, “Everything in life is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” By this stream of logic, sex work is about two people coming together to exchange power. One provides power in the form of money, the other in sexual prowess. Physical attractiveness and societal status are factors baked into such exchanges that often yield imbalanced power dynamics. Fundamentally, I think this is where society’s disdain for sex work comes from.
Deep down, all humans are connected. The hippie will tell you that the glue holding us together is “love,” the preacher will call it “God,” and the scientist will say it’s “matter.” Semantics aside, what all these people innately understand is that energy connects all living organisms. By extension, it pains us to see others around us suffer — especially in the form of sexual exploitation. But the second we try intellectualizing this concept, we are met with a divide. Progressives lean into the “my body, my choice” rhetoric, whereas conservatives opt more for an “honor thy body,” one.
From these nuggets of wisdom, ego rears its vicious head. The middle-aged mom whose identity is overly tied to her waning youth and beauty morphs into the sex work-shaming crusader who rallies troops of other disgruntled Karens in an attempt to demonize sex work and anyone who participates in it (talk about a force to be reckoned with). She is fearful of the notion that her husband might dump her for a hotter model, so she places a moral judgment on any young woman who uses her body as a tool to generate income.
But she also has sympathy for the countless women she’s heard have been traumatized by their sex work experiences. This victim-centered narrative becomes her soap box. She doesn’t want to confront her own shadow — the jealous, insecure, and possessive part of herself — let alone in a public forum, so she brushes that aside and places the blame elsewhere. She deludes herself into thinking that this kind of power will yield the most positive results. But it is rooted in a combative, judgment-filled sentiment that repels the very people it’s trying to help.
Pussy Power and the Modern-Day Sex Worker
On the flip side of the coin lies someone more aligned with my values. Raised in a sex-positive household that promoted self-exploration and individuality, I used sugaring as a means for coming into my pussy power. While I have no regrets for the oftentimes reckless behavior I found myself engaging in (it did teach me about life after all), I am able to reflect back on that time in my life with a more layered perspective, now that I’m a couple of years removed from it.
When I was in the thick of it, my ego was trying to protect me from myself. While the “my body, my choice” mantra rang true to my soul, I admittedly took it too far. Feeling the friction of going against the status quo, I pretended not to give a fuck about what others thought, but I actually gave all the fucks and it ended up taking quite an emotional toll on my self-perception.
What resulted was sort of a reverse situation of the example outlined above. I lacked self-worth and while the external validation from daddies remedied some of that, it also did a lot of damage by making me feel like my worth as a human stemmed predominantly from my sexuality. Being young and unaccomplished in my career, I grew ashamed of myself. “My family of strong women raised me better than to be some ditzy slut who spreads her legs for money” and “What worthwhile man will ever respect me enough to date me given my sex work past?” I would think to myself.
But I had made my choices and felt these hard truths did little to serve me, so I stuffed them deep down inside and projected an all-in-on-sex-work facade. “I’m just one of those highly evolved, unattached kinda gals,” I would tell friends who appeared shocked by the notion I could have casual sex with men I wasn’t really into.
While I did believe aspects of sex work to be empowering, I definitely downplayed the rough parts and glamorized the good ones both to myself and my peers, while forming moral judgments about all the uptight bitches who I felt judged me. It was my way of taking power over the sex work narrative society was trying to box me into, but just like the Karens referenced before, it was more an illusion of power than anything else.
Owning Your Power — Sexual and Otherwise
True power comes from embracing the light and dark within ourselves and the world we inhabit. By doing so, we eliminate the concept of hierarchies and remove the possibility of being deemed “less than.” While it’s certainly easier said than done, I am happy to report that my inferiority/superiority complex is slowly but surely fading to the wayside as I continue rising into my power.
My pussy power is a superpower in and of itself — one that has been honed through sex work — but it is just one of many in my wheelhouse. The moment I internalized this was the moment my fear of aging and becoming less sexually appealing to men started to dissipate.
While others can and will try to take away (or grant) me power, self-love is the only power that truly matters at the end of the day. The transcended sex worker is someone who has this awareness and who stands firm with their boundaries because of it.
Jules
Based in Brooklyn, Jules has dedicated her twenties towards harnessing her pussy power, exploring the muse, whore, and wild woman archetypes along the way. When not blogging, you can find her sweating the toxins out in a hot yoga class or sipping a matcha latte at a pretentious coffee shop, whilst she scribbles away in her journal.
