we discussed the strength of our current support network and how much it will suffer when I leave the city. making new friends is always a challenge (as a girl who moves every three years on average, I can tell you it does not get easier with practice), but it can be especially challenging to us (people who have woven sexuality throughout our lives).
“Hi, I’m jane. I’m a dyke-identified bisexual woman who loves the term “fluid” to describe her sexuality. I have a degree in sexuality, will soon be pursuing my masters in the topic, and no, you can’t be my lab partner. I am a sexuality educator, certified as a sex coach, and a sex worker. I have had more sex in more combinations and circumstances in the last five years than most people will have in their lives. I have a long history of depression and anxiety, a close occasionally-closeted relationship with my family, and a craving to run away to the smokey mountains with a dog. I’m a knitter, potter, and creative mess. Oh, and I’m 22. This identity is subject to change and modification without warning.”
we have our friends who know our history. who knew us “before” — before dacia and jane, before sex work, before sex at all in some cases. do they know us better than more recent friends? do they know the “real” us? and does that imply that our current identities are not “real” or legitimate? dacia and jane represent us, however they are an image we control. in many ways they force us to be more honest with ourselves, but they also can serve as a wall between us and the outside world. and once they are established, how do we change?
lately, several comments and emails have highlighted some of the gaps between jane’s image and my life. i am a sex worker; however, i have not seen a client in months. i can count the number of times i have had sex with a partner (and the number of partners) in the last six months on one hand. i have been focused on my other work and on taking care of myself, mentally and physically.
sex work is exhausting. it is a care-taking profession. every session is centered on the client (which is why we are NOT overpaid). i leave some clients feeling leached by a succubus. when clients email me now, months after my last posting, i can barely harness the energy to respond to their enquiries.
so does this mean I am not a whore? (“I am still called an admiral although I left the sea long ago.”) i am not an active whore. and at this point i don’t know if i will ever go back to the type of services i previously provided. i think i would like to shift back to the more focused educational experiences. i want to teach clients more about their selves (not me, or women, or anatomy, or sexuality in general). i think this will involve a shift to betty dodson-styled sex coaching. it will also involve keeping my clothes on (gasp! imagine…)
i am stuck in a limbo of identities and life styles. i wonder where this will lead.