"And how about your clients?"

“And how about your clients? You must have some… you know?”

This is one of the questions my clients ask most often. At first, I was surprised by it. I found it absurd. I asked myself if they were worried about me, with all these statistics of violence against sex workers. I found it cute. And nice that they were so well informed.

But, often, this question was followed by another implied question. “What about me?”

They were worried about themselves, not me.

Which makes all this deliciously paradoxical. One of the only common feature about them, about these clients, is this worry: “Tell me I am unique. Tell me I am good. Tell me I am better than the others.” Not all of them, but most, come to see us for the right to exist, the right to be loved, the dream of being the favorite. A certain individuality. And this is where I am frustrated, because this is absolutely what I want to do with my work. To see what is beautiful in them, and show them. To marvel before the lovable. To hug the wounded masculinity. But oftentimes, those who are stuck with this question have trouble showing themselves. Stuck in the ridiculous and awful incessant toxic masculinity. “Where am I? Am I the best? Am I the one who makes you come the most? Where is my medal?” This masculinity that doesn’t help anyone, and particularly not them.

I admire the courage they have in coming to us with their questions. I admire the resilience that comes with trying to someway reassure the frightened little boy who thinks he is not enough. We can find miracles in strange places and it happens in sex workers bodies more often than not.

Otherwise, if it is a real question, my clients are men who pay me for intimacy. That’s all. All sorts of intimacy. But most of the time with a pressing question that has trouble being asked: “Do I have the right to exist? Am I lovable?” And even if they are the only ones who can answer it, it is an honor to be chosen to help them find the way.