I decided to write you a letter. You can only be yourself in part of what I have to say. You can’t be yourself, so thank you, my friend. I was very inspired by Bliss and her fabulous film Queen, which is about her fight for equal marriage, and I have to admit that. Coming out as escorts sex worker today is comparable to coming out as escorts sex worker in the 1970s, especially in the. I feel everything from the worry around me to the fear to the pure hatred and the open violence, and the stigma that comes with it can kill. You decided I was the “ugly girl,” the one to be ashamed of. You look down on me when I have no shame. You leave me at parties and hold my partner close in a protective embrace. After all, as an ugly woman, I live, eats, and breathe escorts sex; no one is safe. I am not part of your life; I work silently behind closed doors. This is not enough for you. Tell me I must have been abused as a child; this may be the only explanation. You tell me I am irrational, that I am, or that I don’t care. You tell me I can’t be a parent that I can’t take care of myself, let alone my daughter. You undermine my prayer by making jokes about my weight; you rejoice when I get a statistic wrong, whether in an interview or a written article. You tell me that I don’t care about those who suffer in this profession, that what I do, I do only for my benefit, or that of the mythical car lobby. You deny my past, the women I stood next to on the street who asked me to help; you try to silence me with the word “privileged”. You tell me that if I love what I do, I should work for free in a capitalist society where women suffer more from austerity measures and social cuts. Hell, you even tell me that I’m targeting vulnerable disabled men without thinking about their ability to make their own choices. You lie; you do it all the time. You tell the public that the country is flooded with victims of trafficking when you know that is simply not true. You put your finances and career above my life. Ignoring violence against escorts’ sex workers on social media and in the press you assume that because you don’t care, no one else does. They ask me how many men I have slept with, how much I have done if I have had an STI, and if I am in a relationship or married. Assume that because I sell sex to escorts, my whole life is your disposition for your consideration and your condescending smile. Report escorts sex workers in the press and ignore the many sex workers who have taken pictures of you.
