What I Fear About Becoming a Full-Fledged Sex Writer
“So, did you learn any fun tricks from the sex workers you interviewed?” Our first FaceTime, we had known each other for a mere thirty minutes, “known” as a loose term, obviously. I didn’t know how to respond to this question.
Unsurprising. He meant well and didn’t hammer on the idea of tips and tricks, but I recognized a running theme of sexual questions that were prompted by my “sex writer” identity.
It happens more often than not; the moment sex makes an appearance in any way, the conversation turns sexual. It takes a deep dive into vocabulary and infinite control of my flirtatious mannerisms to steer this question back to the actual topic. I write about sex and sex workers, yes. But not to “learn their tricks.”
So, when dates are down to engage in a genuine conversation about sex and sex workers’ rights without their mind drifting to the way their bedsheets will wrinkle in my hands, I consider that a massive green flag.
I’ve noticed it’s tricky to navigate being a sex writer and conversations not turning sexual from the get-go.
“Yes, I was actually thinking about that recently,” my friend says, standing in her small, faintly-beige-colored kitchen. This was weeks after that FaceTime, the man had come and gone but I was still left with the very obvious example of how the mention of sex and sex work changes potentially romantic conversations.
I told her about this article, about this story; ‘my fears about becoming a fill-fledged sex writer.’
I’ve been joking for a while that the main concern with that is that my exes will think I still harbor some feelings for them when, in reality, I am just using them as bad examples.
“At first I thought it’s empowering,” my friend continues. “But I also feel like there are some difficult things to being a sex writer.”
I agree.
I think there’s something about identifying yourself as a “sex writer” – something that I’m frankly not fully ready to do just yet – that feels like pigeonholing all your work into that one category.
When I think of sex writers, my first thought is of Carrie Bradshaw. The NYC-shoe-collector-and-columnist who asks more questions than she answers. Still, during the FaceTime mentioned earlier, like Bradshaw I couldn’t help but wonder if as a sex writer, all my dates and conversations are inevitably going to turn sexual. I’ve noticed that especially on dates, when asked what I do, the answer “I’m a journalist” just isn't satisfactory. I know it wouldn’t be for me.
“What do you like to write about?” they ask me.
How they respond to my answer almost feels like a test.
“I’m writing about sex workers right now.”
Being comfortable to talk about sex, having the vocabulary to talk about sex means that you’re safer, and are able to honor yourself and your wants better. You can communicate boundaries, likes and dislikes, without feeling awkward about calling body parts by their proper name, without saying: “I don’t know, anything I guess”.
Talking about sex improves your sex life. it’s infinitely trickier to guess what your partner wants than simply asking. Moans can only say so much. Communication makes sex safer, more intimate, and ultimately, more satisfying. So, let’s find the vocabulary together.
There’s a certain level of “quirkiness” that is associated with writing about sex. It’s “quirky” and sexy and hot. And honestly, I agree. Sex and writing about sex is all that. It is. But it’s important to note that it’s also so much more. Writing about sex and relationships and dating, elements present in most of our lives and taking up an incredible amount of brain space, are easily dismissed or disregarded as not serious or hard-hitting journalism. And maybe it’s not. Maybe sex isn’t hard-hitting (unless you’re into that, you do you).
Writing about sex is not just writing about the personal experience with sex. To me, writing about sex also means opening the platform and talking about the sex industry, about sex workers, and the issues they are facing.
Carrie Bradshaw could never.
I can’t help but wonder how we can destigmatize sex work if encouraging more open conversations around sexuality in general.
Too many people are willing to both consume sex work content and shun sex workers from community spaces. Even more, sex workers are actively being purged from social media websites meaning that they not only don’t have a public media platform but are also losing previous and rare community spaces.
So, yes, being a sex writer feels a bit uncomfortable right now but that’s okay. It means more comfort, pleasure, and possibly more “tricks” later on.