Interview with a Millennial Sex Worker

The only guaranteed thing about autonomy is that the term is currently being used a student with dyed hair during a college seminar.

However, when individuals attempt to exercise the right to govern their bodies and decisions outside of hypothetical discourse, they’re usually met with at best conditional acceptance and at worst — criminalization.

Sex work, often called the world’s oldest profession, remained mostly legal in the United States until 1910, when religious groups cried “immorality” and campaigned to close the brothels. They failed to stop prostitution but succeeded in illegalizing and demonizing the profession, engendering a stigma that persists to this day.

Legislation continues to threaten the livelihoods of sex workers. With the passing of bills SESTA (Stop Enabling Sex Traffickers Act) and FOSTA (Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act) this year, the US government has effectively limited the online platforms (digital brothels) which sex workers previously used to solicit clients.

On the surface this may not seem like a bad thing. But the bill package fails to distinguish the difference between sex trafficking and consensual sex work, conflating forced sexual labor with the autonomous soliciting of sexual activities. 

Introducing new policies aimed to restrict the former, SESTA/FOSTA subsequently jeopardizes the livelihoods of the latter. By shutting down websites like Backpage, Craigslist Personals, and other sites used to solicit, sex workers are denied the right to handpick and vet their clients from afar, forcing them to gauge their safety IRL. Research has indicated that street-based sex workers face higher risk of STI transmission and violence than those who utilize online advertising. In fact, a 2017 study estimated that the opening of the Craigslist Erotic section coincided with a 17 percent drop in female-homicide rates.

These statistics have faces, one of which belongs to “Melanie” a 27-year-old genderfluid artist and sex worker, who has entered this profession willingly. We spoke to them about their work and their future in the wake of SESTA/FOSTA.

Below is an edited transcript of our discussion.

 

First, in your own words, how would you describe what you do?

Melanie: I describe myself as a full service sex worker. I also sometimes use the term ‘provider.’ It’s important to me to delineate that [I am] providing a service to my clients.

 

What does “full service” mean?

It can mean full penetrative sex, it can mean other types of physical intimacy. Some people make the distinction between being full service or being an escort or being a sugarbaby. I feel like I could fall under any of those categories, because I offer different services to different people. But for me, it’s just easier to be like, ‘I’m full service.’

 

Before you meet a client, do you talk about what you’re offering?

This is kind of something that’s shifting and evolving, particularly post FOSTA/SESTA. Since that legislation was passed, I haven’t been able to find any new clients, so everyone that I see now are regulars. Prior to that, the main platform that I used for advertising was Craigslist — which is actually not allowed. Now Craigslist Personals is entirely shut down. What would happen before all of this happened [was] people would respond to my Craigslist ad or they would send me a message on Seeking Arrangement. I was very careful of the language I would use, as a way to screen people, because there’s always the risk that you are dealing with law enforcement or dealing with someone that is potentially dangerous. I would use elusive language, pose it as though it were a date.

Often times, I would go directly to this person’s home. I would set up some type of backup safety measure, having a friend know where I am, turning on my location — something like that. It was like a read-between-the-lines type of thing, so there were very few occasions where I would be explicit in what services I provide.

 

Out of fear of repercussions from the government or…?

Fears of implicating mess ups, legally, and also as a safeguard.  I’m not going to say I’m a professional — some people say that in a shaming way. Clients will be like, ‘Oh, if you’re a pro I don’t want to see you. I just want you to be a girl who needs financial help,’ you know what I mean? Like, ‘Oh, you’re just a girl who’s down on her luck.’

 

Where do you think that stigma comes from?

I think it’s just part of the greater stigma of sex work in general. A lot of people hold such negative moralistic views of sex in general and being promiscuous. Also if you are taking ownership of your sexuality and you’re commodifying your sexuality — [they think] you are dangerous. I have had clients say, ‘You’re not a pro, right?’ If you know too much about your rights and you know too much about what rate you can command — they’re threatened by that.

 

Because they want an illusion that they’re not engaging in this sort of trade?

Exactly. I can understand why people might feel ashamed for soliciting sex workers. In theory, because you might feel undesirable, feel you’re too old, or they might have all these internalized feelings [about] their manhood. And it’s like, no, you can solicit a service from someone — like getting a massage — and it can be just something that you need. Maybe you are too busy to date, maybe your schedule doesn’t allow for that, maybe you’re in a marriage where you’re not getting, physically, what you need.

There’s so many different reasons and I just feel like I’m in the trade of intimacy and love, and if I can offer that to people in a way that we are both consenting and both feel safe doing that, then why not? And if I can make a living doing it — and I mean, I’m barely scraping by now — but theoretically then, sure, why not?

 

What was your first experience with any kind of sex work?

I guess the first time was probably when I was 21 years old, and I had moved to [location omitted for privacy] after getting out of a long term relationship. I was in the city by myself, I didn’t really have any friends. I was working a dead-end retail job and was struggling financially to pay my rent and just thought, why not try this?

The first place that I went was Craigslist Personals. I’m trying to remember the very first time that I met [someone], but I’m not sure I remember who it was. But I do remember that I went over to someone’s home, and I didn’t have anybody to [tell], “This is where I’m going.” I wasn’t out to my family, so it was just one of those things where I was very at risk — considering my white privilege, I’m still much lower risk than trans femmes and queer people of color — however, there’s always that element of danger.

 

Do you remember how you felt after the experience?

During that time of my life, I was pretty depressed. I held a lot of internalized shame. I had a lot of internalized whore-phobia. So, it was not a good experience for me then. It was very negative, there was a shame spiral that happened, and actually, it was my birthday [when I was outed].

I turned 21, one of my clients had gotten me a bottle of expensive whisky and I was sitting in my closet-of-a-room in [location omitted for privacy]. I was online on Google Chat, talking to my ex and I was drunk and sad. I said to him, “I’ve been selling myself for money.” Which is an inherently flawed statement, because you’re not selling your body by selling sex, you’re selling sex. You’re selling a service, you’re selling an action, you’re not giving away any part of yourself by doing that.

And he had the worst possible reaction, he immediately said that I was so mentally ill that I needed to be institutionalized. He reached out to my family without my consent and outed me under the guise of being concerned for my well-being, and then promptly excommunicated me and blocked me on everything. But yeah, at the beginning there was so much shame attached to sex work for me.

 

Do you still feel any shame attached to sex work today?

Not at all.

 

And what was the process like to get here?

So, I’m 27 years old, right? There’s been a big gap. The last time I had done sex work up until that point was at 21, and then the next time was last summer [2017]. So this is actually my one year anniversary of getting back into sex work. What really spurred it was last summer there was a sex worker meet-up. I showed up, and it was just a circle. After that meet up, I was so overwhelmed with feelings of love, compassion, and understanding. I was like, all of these people are doing it and obviously we’ve all had difficult experiences through it, but you can still find empowerment through it. So I reposted my ad after that meet up, and got back on Seeking Arrangement. Then it just started happening again, and it has been kind of a life-line for me. My life has completely changed, and a lot of it is due to sex work.

 

What are some of the ways [your life has changed]?

I’ve always been a promiscuous person and a sexually adventurous person. I’ve never — no, that’s not true; I have felt shame about that, just because being raised Christian and being taught that sexual desire is inherently sinful. Meanwhile, I pegged my first boyfriend in the ass at 15 years old, so my mother knew that I was a lost cause when she found my strap-on in the closet.

 

She says lost cause, we say progressive.

Exactly. I’ve been able to come to new terms with my own sexuality through [sex work]. To have people value my time to the point where they are willing to pay for it, because let’s be honest — most of the cis-het [cisgendered-heterosexual] boys that I was fucking prior to getting paid for it — were not appreciative of my time, were not attentive to my sexual needs, and a lot of times I ended up feeling used after these disappointing sexual experiences.  But when you’re a sex worker, you can walk away with cash in hand. And then the real fucking irony is that these men are often better in bed than their counterparts, who are “too good to pay for sex,” you know what I mean?

 

So do you have any rules for yourself or lines you won’t cross?

I really just don’t like butt stuff. It’s just a personal preference, and luckily I have never had anyone break that boundary with me. That’s pretty much the only hard line that I have. Also a hard limit for me is intense physical bodily harm. With the regulars that I see, they all know me now. I’ve been seeing some of my regulars now for a year.

 

Do you have any emotional boundaries you set for yourself? Do you see clients in a nonprofessional manner outside of work?

There’s some people that, no matter how many times I’ll have sex with them, it’s still just a professional relationship. There’s been a few people who I have fallen for and have confused those lines.

 

Would you mind discussing rates? What’s more expensive, what’s less expensive — your breakdown of prices? 

It actually varies client to client. I don’t charge more for one thing or another thing. I don’t say, “Penetrative sex is this, oral is this.” I don’t have a menu. What I do is pay per meet. [With] some people, that’s one amount. Some people it’s $100 more, some people it’s $200 more — based on their financial situation, based on what I agreed to. There’s some people, who the rates change every time I see them, because they might only have so much money available and I’m desperate.

Because FOSTA/SESTA, I don’t have any new clients. [So] I’ll go over and I’ll see them for literally a fifth of my normal rate. I literally had a client yesterday who asked, “Will you come over for a Father’s Day present?” And I was like, no.

 

Do you always expect payment upfront? 

I always expect some type of compensation for my time.

 

Is it pre-established?

Often times it’s murky. Sometimes I’ll be handed a white envelope with money inside and I won’t know, until I open it later, how much I have been given. And I’ve been given very little before.

I recently had an instance [where] I met up with someone from What’s Your Price [an online dating service]. Not factoring the amount of time that it takes me to get there, time it takes me to get home, including the time I spend with him — I was getting paid very little hourly. Then the second time I met him, he was like, “Oh, I didn’t think that this was part of it anymore.” And I’m like, “Why wouldn’t you?” He’s like, “Well, it’s kind of depressing for me to think that I’m paying for your time,” and I’m like, “we literally met under those pretenses, why would that not carry over?” And he reluctantly paid me for the second date, and I honestly don’t think I’m going to see him after that.  

 

That’s shitty.

That’s a common thing for clients to try to convert you into dating. But not actually dating, literally just you fulfilling their physical needs and desires, without them offering you anything in return. I’ve had many people try and do that. Like, “Would you just come over, without payment?” No. This isn’t fun for me. I mean, it can be but…

 

You’ve enjoyed sex with clients?

Yeah.

 

Does that confuse you or them sometimes?

I don’t know. I’ve never personally felt confused. I’m having good sex so who cares? It could just come down to our chemistry or whatever. I have had some of my best sex ever with clients in the past year.

 

Do you tell them so?

Yeah, there’s a few people in particular where we’ll text a lot. That honestly can be emotional labor and can be very time consuming, but it’s something that I’m participating in consensually, so I’m fine with that. It’s like time off the clock. We’ll be like sexting, but that’s something that I’m doing for fun, to fulfill my own desires. So it doesn’t confuse me and I don’t think it necessarily confuses them either. There have obviously been times where they’ll make some off-hand joke where they’ll be like, “You should be paying me,” because the sex is so good and I’m like… no.

 

Do you use your real name?

I’m so messy.

 

Well you’re just speaking to your experience, you’re not the spokesperson for all sex workers. I should have prefaced that the questions I’m asking, I’m asking you. 

Right. I just feel like I need to stipulate that I’m not leading by example here. I always start out with a fake name. The fake name that I use is Melanie. I don’t have a last name, just Melanie. And I don’t feel like it necessarily is a name that suits me, so usually I end up telling them my real name once I get to know [them]. I’d say probably 80 percent of my current regulars know my real name. It just comes to that point where I feel uncomfortable with them referring to me as my false name. It’s not a persona that I’ve fully grown into.

 

Are your clients mostly male or female? Or have you ever worked with other queer/non-binary folks?

As far as I know, I only have cis male clients.

 

Rough age range?

Most of them are between 40 and 50. With a few outliers.

 

Who was the youngest person?

I think 44 or 45.

 

How has sex work affected your personal relationships?

I haven’t seen anyone romantically, basically, in the past year outside of sex work. So, I feel like commodifying intimacy, commodifying my sexuality has made me view [the] normal dating process a little bit differently. I’m more skeptical about it, and I’m a little more stingy with my time. If I know that I can be paid for it in another context… I guess I don’t really seek it out other places. I got banned from Tinder, banned from OKCupid — for stating that I was a sex worker. They hate sex workers, so whatever.

Friendships? I’m very fortunate and constantly grateful for the incredible community of people that surround me. So many of my friends are sex workers — it’s ridiculous, how many of us have either done it in the past or are currently doing it. There hasn’t been anyone who’s been judgmental of what I’m doing.

 

How long does it normally take when meeting someone for you to reveal that this is your line of work?

I’m probably too candid with people. And I’m probably too open and honest. 

 

For safety reasons or personal?

For safety reasons, really. I feel like I out myself to people so easily. I really do, and [to] complete strangers. Maybe take too much for granted, [because of] the community I’m in, I just expect everyone to be cool with it. Part of me also feels like it’s important, in pursuit of de-stigmatizing sex work to be like, ‘I am a human being and I am a sex worker. Hello, nice to meet you. We exist. We’re here, and we’re not hiding in the shadows.’

Of course, there’s a lot of risk that comes with that, and to be honest with you, I’m very paranoid. Particularly following FOSTA/SESTA, it’s a concern that’s been consistently on my mind.

 

I see you post about [FOSTA/SESTA and concerns for your safety]. 

I think I’ve gotten a little bit quieter on Instagram and on social media. I used to kind of shout about being a sex worker. It’s scary… there is a digital paper trail for my line of work. I don’t use encrypted text. Those are adjustments that I could easily make now, but everything that’s happened in the past year, that’s still there [exists online].

Also it makes you — there’s that cultural thing of, why should you have to go through all these sort of hoops to provide a service? Also it could discourage clients in a way, if you’re like, “Let’s use encrypted email,” cause it adds that shroud over it. This idea [that sex workers are] selling bodies for something. It’s like… people are construction workers, so many [jobs] you put your body on the line for money, so it doesn’t make sense. 

I’m fully for the decriminalization of sex work, and I participated in the rally where we were standing in solidarity with sex workers and marching for the decriminalization of sex work. Which is different than legalization, because legalization still involves the state and involves regulations. Where as [with] decriminalizing [sex work], [the goal is] people can’t be thrown in jail for it. I mean it’s obviously much more nuanced and complex than that.

 

What are the biggest misconceptions you’d like to clear up for people about sex work?

Oh, there’s so many. First of all, that sex itself is a moral issue, because sex is natural. You can be asexual, hypersexual, and everywhere on the spectrum is okay as long as it doesn’t interfere with your well-being. But I think there’s no moral values that can be placed on sex itself. There’s the victim narrative which is projected onto sex workers from outside sources.

 

That you’re forced into this occupation? 

Yes. Now that’s not to say that there aren’t many people who are, but you cannot conflate sex trafficking and consensual sex workers — that’s two completely separate issues. That’s inherently what’s wrong with FOSTA/SESTA, because they say that it’s about sex trafficking, but what you’re really doing [with] this legislation is making people go into the shadows. [By shutting down online soliciting platforms sex workers] are literally forced onto the streets, and that’s exponentially more dangerous. And the people that are at highest risk of being harmed, of experiencing violence [are] trans women of color — it’s literally a death sentence for them.

You cannot conflate sex trafficking and consensual sex work. As a sex worker, you might love your job or you might hate your job, it’s like any other job. Allowing sex workers to tell their own stories is really important. So thank you for doing this. Another misconception is that sex workers are diseased. Of course it’s part of our trade so we are at higher risk for having sexually transmitted infections, but actually, statistically, we are the most tested population. 

 

How does your queerness relate to your work? Being non-binary, do you feel that clients recognize your true identity?

I feel like, everyday is drag for me — but especially when going to meet a client. Being objectified for body parts that I felt intense dysphoria about, like my breasts, it’s a very particular position to be in. But then, at the same time, [my clients] appreciate my body. So it’s extremely complicated. But I feel like because of the age group that most of my clients are in, above 40, they don’t really understand. 

I see cis men exclusively — not by choice, just because opportunity. So these cis hetero men are very small-minded. I’ve tried to have conversations with them before about the fact that I’m non-binary [but I] don’t really know how to have this conversation with [them] because we’re speaking different languages. I feel like our generation is on a completely different plane of existence.

 

And it’s hard to get people to catch up. 

And we’re also spending such limited amount of time together. How am I going to give you queer history 101 in an hour?

 

And that’s not your responsibility. So are you out [about being a sex worker] to your family now?

It’s a little weird. My sister used to follow me on Instagram. I think she might still follow me on Instagram… but I think she stopped watching my stories because there’s a lot of things on my stories: thirst traps and me explicitly being like, “I’m going to see this client” or whatever. Before this legislation passed, I was more explicit and more candid [online]. So she pretty much knows, [but] I’ve never sat down with her and been like, “I’m a sex worker.” My mother sort of knows, but I don’t think she understands or she she’s willingly ignorant of the fact that there are sexual services that I provide. So she is aware, but she doesn’t know the full extent of it.

I almost feel an obligation to not tell them, because I don’t want to implicate them in the horrible instance that I’m ever criminalized. So the less they know, I feel, the better.

 

Are there any times you have felt frightened for your well-being, outside of FOSTA/SESTA, with clients? 

I’ve been extremely fortunate and I’m very privileged in my whiteness that I have never really felt physically threatened. Obviously, those thoughts cross your mind because you are entering someone’s domestic space, and you know really anything could happen. I’ve been tied up by people before, but there’s usually a certain level of trust which is established before I will go into being physically restrained.

I’ve been definitely made to feel uncomfortable before, but that’s more being coerced into doing things that aren’t ideal. Having unprotected sex is really the main one. But physically I haven’t had any traumatic experiences. I’ve been very, very fortunate.

 

Do you have any funny or sweet stories? 

On my birthday, my client showed up with a bouquet of flowers for me and it was really sweet. And we did Molly together at [location omitted for privacy], and that was a really intimate and tender experience that we shared. 

 

Do you foresee a time where you would want to stop doing sex work? 

I feel like I would always do it. I would always be open to doing it because I really have no baggage attached to it at all. There’s really nothing about it, right now, that makes me feel uncomfortable. The only thing that makes me feel uncomfortable is when people don’t want to pay me or pay me less than my rates.

The only reason that I would foresee myself [stopping] is if something really awful happens. If there’s violence enacted upon me or if I have an interaction with law enforcement. I’ve already kind of ceased all my incoming channels. My Craigslist was taken down for investigation, which makes me really, really uncomfortable. For all intents and purposes, besides by regulars, I’m not actively soliciting right now.

 

 

Click here to get involved with campaigns protecting and advocating for sex workers. 

If you are a sex worker in need of legal or social services, you can visit sexworkerproject.org.

 

 

5(0) Shades Of Cat-Call Responses

 

If you’re like me, endlessly looking to make day-to-day tasks and chores more exciting and full of spice, say no more! I’m here to provide you with an incredibly interesting opportunity to find the silver lining in an otherwise frightening situation: getting cat-called.

The best part of it all? This sort of entertainment is free. All you have to do is rely on the filthy nature of street harassers, and if you elect to do so, choose your means of retaliation.

I’ve tried several different responses to street harassment, treating these men like social experiments and observing their reactions. It’s almost like being a wildlife photographer on Animal Planet, and like animals cat-callers respond to stimulation (e.g. making a sudden movement or noise). It’s mind-blowing, really, that such beasts are still able to function in society even though they lack a basic social understanding of mutual respect and boundaries! The not-so-many options are compiled below:

 

1. The Scream

Scream. Just scream. Preferably in a high-pitched manner to really intensify the male-female dynamic and amplify the shock factor. I have done this on the street and in clubs, too — works like a charm. 

The concerned looks of passersby/party-goers act as an appetite suppressant and will most likely put the animal off from pursuing the unwilling subject (i.e. you), so they’ll retreat. However, as the amount of evidently limited neurons differ from brute to brute, your defense scream may elicit different reactions. It is possible that they may start laughing. This is my personal favorite, not only do you get to laugh with them, but you also get to laugh at them. The best part is they’ll never know the difference!

It usually takes a few seconds for it to hit them, the whole “receiving female attention for once in my pitiful life” thing. So while the effect of your scream will most likely be delayed, trust it’ll work.

 

2. Block them!

There is no greater joy in the world than ignoring men who don’t know how to act in public. A refreshing sense of power overwhelms you once you refuse to give these troglodytes the time of day. No eye contact, no acknowledgement they’ve said/done something, no exchange of words. Nothing. Nada. Walk past them like they don’t exist; like they never have and never will mean anything to a woman for as long as they live and breathe on this planet. Reject them in every sense of the word — ignore, block, unfollow, delete, unfriend, unsubscribe. Eject them from your stream of consciousness. When this response is used, 90 percent of the time the cat-caller will realize their attempts are futile and will return back to whichever cave they found their way out of.

While this is usually the safest reaction of them all, the now-rejected primitive may feel the need to attack. On a rare occasion, the lack of response may ignite some repressed anger within them, causing them to last out and repeatedly call you a whore for everyone to hear. Be careful around these animals, ladies — they may attack even if you don’t rattle their cages or tap on the glass!

 

3. The Face

Pull a face. Make it as wrinkly and layered as possible; allow your facial folds to stack on top of one another. I urge you to be the ugliest version of yourself. Contort your face into something you never deemed human. Become the creature of your wildest nightmares. Pro tip: if you can’t visualize a creature to embody, use your harasser as inspiration! I mean… they’re there for a reason, no? Besides, they’re usually distorted and off-looking anyway, so you might as well use that to your advantage!

This reaction is employed when you only have a limited time available to engage with said animal, like if they’re in a vehicle. If you really want to react, this should be your go-to method: it’s quick, simple, and thought-provoking. 

I’d love to say this option is also 100 percent harmless, but you never really know what to expect when it comes to ogre-resembling sociopaths!

 

4. Cuss them out! 

To be honest, this is something I haven’t done. Untamed animals outside of their cages are a force to be reckoned with, and as much as I’d be thrilled to cuss them out, I physically cannot bring myself to do so. I am petrified of provoking the savages — and for good reasons, too. While I myself lack the balls and the self-defense skills to give them what they deserve, one of my daredevil friends doesn’t. Big up to Yasmin. 

What ensued after telling a Jabba the Hutt on a bike to fuck off was, (un)naturally, Jabba himself started following us around! This is one of the many examples that proves that while humans can interact with animals, inter-species communication is still largely limited.

 

5. Cat call them back (rawr)!

If you’re feeling rather feisty and in the mood for an adventurous and comical exchange with the streets’ anti-Christs, give them a little taste of their own medicine.

Of course, they will not feel the fear and discomfort that you do, but it will take them by surprise and hopefully leave them dumbstruck. Just reciprocate the so-called compliment and add a rather demeaning term at the end to seal the deal (e.g.”You too, baby!”). Personally, I suggest playing around with terms like “butternuts” and “sweet tits.” 

 

This is all I have to offer for now, but do not fear… the never-ending influx of street harassers will continue to compel my quest for the perfect animal-repelling response. Freedom of speech laws are largely impeding my dream of making cat-calling illegal — but one can only hope, right?

 

When My Mother Found My Sex Toys

 

I’ve only ever seen my parents kiss, let alone hug, a handful of times. In a relatively stoical household where vulnerability is discouraged and sensitivity much condescended, it is needless to say that talking about sex wasn’t ever in the picture.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to experience proper sex-ed at school either. Instead, I have had to learn some lessons the hard way. I felt the privilege of being born in the digital age the first time I got a UTI. Answers to crucial questions — the same ones deemed “taboo” by my family — at my fingertips. Like many kids who were brought up with parents of different cultural backgrounds and/or in difficult homes, I’ve hidden (among other things) my relationships from my family.

Starting on the eve of my high school years, I always went underwear shopping alone. My mom’s skeptical eye watched as thongs and bras began integrating my closet. The first time I ordered a G-string online, the delivery box reached my mother before I got home from school but my nervousness completely dissipated once she’d asked, “How do you put this pollution mask on?”

My mom grew up in 1960s communist China where teenage relationships were unfathomable. And lingerie…? What lingerie?

By the time I turned 16, I was in my first serious relationship. Like my other flings, I didn’t tell my parents about it for almost an entire year. They eventually found out, would confront me about it in waves, and my discomfort with them knowing only grew. I almost felt like I was under a microscope. Rather than fading back into my natural skin tone, any hickeys I acquired turned into opportunities for my parents to condemn my sexual preferences, including my boyfriend. It didn’t matter that the love bites felt good to me, or that I really cared for my boyfriend;  I was heavily scolded and told to have “normal” sex.

Then, the fateful day came where my mom found our BDSM toys.

Having my room snooped through wasn’t anything new, but these findings were. By then, my stance on my parents’ skeptical views of my relationship had become more frustrated than anxious. Predictably, my mom told my boyfriend and me off, and threw the toys along with a dozen of our unrelated belongings in a trash bag. The latter was done out of spite.

I know there was an element of cultural clash in this frustration, but I couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the anger came from my parents’ own controlling tendencies. “There are limits to these things,” they said, as they consistently pressured me to view the relationship from the same negative perspective they did. In their mind, the only ‘solution’ was for the two of us to break up. I’ve tried to be open to their opinions, but without fail, these opinions are narrow-minded and refuse to take my perspective seriously.

My side of the conversation never had the opportunity to get any consideration; if everything I do with my partner is 100 percent consensual and non-invasive of any other party, why are the limits anyone else’s but ours to set? If the way we feel about each other is healthy, why did we need to end things?

It is disheartening that these are the only real conversations about sex and relationships I’ve ever had with my parents, and I strongly believe that these kinds of family dynamics are what often discourage children to speak to their parents about different personal issues. Why would I ever opt to open up to my parents about these things if I knew this is the response I would receive? I wish things could have been different, but without working to normalize a culture of safe and informative sex positivity, too often, the result will be individuals getting shamed for owning their sexualities.

Last month, I packed my suitcases in which I hid the remainder of my toys and lingerie in between my jeans and hoodies. For the first time, I feel the freedom of not being told how to act and what to think. I feel the freedom of exploring sex and relationships on my own terms. And I feel good.

Planned Parenthood

Modern day America is filled to the brim with political controversy. One subject that never fails to elicit debate is the topic of public health care surrounding the Planned Parenthood Federation of America; the American nonprofit organization that provides reproductive health care to the public.

When looking at a subject as widely discussed as women’s reproductive health care services, an unbiased analysis of the Planned Parenthood organization is crucial. As you may know, while many support and favor the services provided by Planned Parenthood, just as many oppose. Those who are critical of the organization identify as being “pro-life,” meaning they have an anti-abortion stance. Their main reason to protest Planned Parenthood — as stated on the pro-life website under the hashtag “#ProtestPP”— is the fact that it’s the nation’s largest abortion chain providing roughly 324,000 abortions annually.

The beginning of Planned Parenthood stems from Margaret Sanger’s birth control clinic which opened in 1916 in Brooklyn, New York. Soon after, Sanger founded the American Birth Control League in 1921, which later changed its title to Planned Parenthood in 1942. Today they operate over 650 health clinics around the country, and partner with organizations located in 12 other countries.

To fully understand the outreach that Planned Parenthood has, I looked to their most recent annual report detailing the fiscal year ending in June 2016. From 2015 to 2016 Planned Parenthood performed 9.5 million health care services ranging from tests and treatments for sexually transmitted diseases, breast and cervical exams, abortion procedures, and birth control related services. Self-published total expenses for this time period were estimated at $1.27 billion. Their total revenue is reported to be $1.35 billion where 41% comes from government health service reimbursements and grants, 33% from private contributions, and 23% from non-government health services revenue. However, as mentioned before, not all are in favor of the services provided by Planned Parenthood.
A popular anti-Planned Parenthood website is STOPP. At first glance, you can pick up on the group’s religious ideologies where you see a cross within its logo, many biblical references throughout its home page, and an article headline claiming that Planned Parenthood is “hooking kids on sex.” STOPP being the very first anti-abortion website to appear after searching the phrase “anti planned parenthood” validates the notion that religious individuals, in particular those who identify as Christian, make up an extremely large percentage of those who actively stand against Planned Parenthood.

Many argue that while Planned Parenthood doesn’t directly use their federal funding for abortions, those funds pay for other expenses which salary their employers, pay for medical equipment, and essentially keep the organization in operation. In 2015 there was an explosion of controversy surrounding Planned Parenthood when an executive was accused of “the illegal sale of aborted baby parts.” In truth, no credible evidence was ever found that Planned Parenthood profited from any donation of fetal tissue. Regardless, the claim still caused a huge media debate on the ethicality of Planned Parenthood as a whole.

Pro-life activist David Daleiden admitted that he had been trying to “entrap” Planned Parenthood for three years during undercover operations where he attempted to purchase aborted fetal tissues. When the President of Planned Parenthood, Cecile Richard, was asked to comment on Daleiden she stated that throughout his efforts he “failed to succeed in convincing even a single affiliate to enter into a procurement contract.” Meaning that no affiliate had ever agreed to sell him aborted fetuses and then attempt to go through with the deal.

In a Planned Parenthood article from The Hill — a political website which claims to be center-biased — the primary motive of the pro-life movement is clarified stating that, “The bottom line is that pro-lifers know that if Planned Parenthood is defunded, it would be the beginning of the end of
the abortion industry.” And although disapproval of Planned Parenthood certainly exists, opposition predominantly stems from those with an anti-abortion stance, who typically are politically conservative and strong in religious beliefs. Their protests focus upon the fact that Planned Parenthood provides abortions, while other health care services provided are deemed irrelevant. And while those who choose to protest abortion may have legitimate personal reason for their opposition, their actions toward Planned Parenthood are undeniably detrimental to women whose health care concerns often fall unrelated to abortions.

Those who speak out in support of Planned Parenthood often come from a perspective which prioritizes women’s rights and reproductive health care. In an article from CNN, protection of Planned Parenthood is supported by stating that 90% of care provided by Planned Parenthood is preventative; these services include annual exams, health counseling, testing and treatment of sexually transmitted diseases, cancer screenings, and birth control. CNN also points out that “for many women — especially those who are low-income — Planned Parenthood is the only source of health care.” The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities states that defunding Planned Parenthood would have “devastating effects.” They then point out that “three-quarters of [patients] have incomes below 150 percent of the poverty line.”
We could get a grasp on the effects of eliminating Planned Parenthood when Texas removed it from their state family planning program in 2013. This resulted in a 35% of women using long-term contraception, as well as a 27% increase of births in women who had previously been using contraception.

Support of Planned Parenthood from an economic standpoint is also very common. An article from The Atlantic argues that there are an abundance of economic reasons to support Planned Parenthood, stating that “access to family planning has increased women’s labor-force participation, improved their and their family’s economic security, and has multi- generational health and economic benefits.” In fact, the 2015 Congressional Budget Office estimated that defunding Planned Parenthood would raise government spending over the following ten years by $130 million.

Overall, those who support Planned Parenthood most often do so from a “women’s rights” or economic perspective. They are likely to be politically liberal, hold progressive views, and not have strong personal convictions stemming from religion. They believe that a woman’s right to reproductive health care is paramount. Those in favor of Planned Parenthood have indisputable reason to support the organization because of the many humanitarian and economic benefits of its services.

Planned Parenthood is an organization which, simply stated, provides reproductive health care services. Along with countless women around the world, I believe that every woman, including myself, should have the right to choose what is best for them based upon their own happiness. I have compassion for those in need of reliable health care; the question of
whether or not an abortion is involved falls irrelevant. A minority of personal anti-abortion beliefs should not infringe upon the welfare of all women. Planned Parenthood understands the importance of women’s reproductive health care, and continually works to not cede those rights.

Burned by a Woman

The first time I had sex with a girl was unplanned, clumsy, and awkward. We were mutual friends and one thing led to another… sober hands grazing my breast, a kiss with tongue, sharp fingers and awkward body movements. Somehow we both managed to cum.

I realize now I have always been attracted to women, but had previously rationalized all crush-like feelings as a product of alcohol-induced intimacy; thinking I was kissing girls at parties to impress boys, it never occurred to me that I might actually be kissing girls because I wanted to.

Since then, I’ve had my fair share of sexual rendezvouses with women but I’ve never dated one. Only now at 23-years-old, am I sitting down to analyze… why?

It’s not as if I’m more attracted to boys than girls, but I grew up in Catholic household that only offered me one image of what a couple should look like. To be frank, dating men was what I knew and what wouldn’t upset the people around me, so I took the more comfortable route. For as long as I remember, I have been conditioned to know what a man wants: be polite, cross your legs, take up little space. Since middle school, I’ve known how to flirt. I can walk into a bar with the confidence that I can get a man to look at me or buy me a drink. Those feelings tend to dissipate in the presence of a woman. The uncertainty can be invigorating and exciting, but it’s also nerve wracking as hell.

To ease myself into this unknown territory, I began hooking up with a couple. I was more interested in her, but he provided a level of familiarity that helped me explore my other inclinations more freely. I knew my way around the bedroom with a man, but figuring out how to please a woman? I felt like I was 15 all over again. We’d all fool around, but it became increasingly evident I just wanted to be with her. Before I could vocalize my desire, things got messy.

The couple broke up. She and I remained close, but kept it platonic and both started dating other men. A few months and women later we found ourselves in the same city again, so I asked her out. But with neither of us owning labels like “bi” yet, my flirtations wouldn’t always land. We had been interpreting romantic behavior with men for years, but when it came to the same sex, my advances would get lost in our friendship. This all came to head one night.

We went on what I thought was a date; Italian and expensive wine—how much more obvious could I get? Everything seemed to be going well, until she had a guy she was hooking up with pick her up. I looked at her and I said, “If I was a man, you wouldn’t have done that. You would have waited till you got home for whoever to come over.” She said she thought we were just friends.

I didn’t know at what point we fell off the same page, but in hindsight I realize neither of us knew how to romantically communicate with the same sex. Soon after, she started dating that guy who had picked her up.

Fast forward to the end of summer, I met someone else. We started seeing each other, and while we weren’t exclusive, it was more than sex and definitely the most intimate I’ve ever been with a woman. Around the same time I met a boy who inconveniently appeared at a party she and I were attending. One drink lead to another and I ended up kissing him in front of her. I stopped myself and ultimately went home with her. But it’s ironic how quick I was to repeat the trajectory that had hurt me just a few months prior. She headed back to college and I began dating that guy for two years.

The more I think about it, all the women I’ve been with have previously dated men. I’ve been led on by women only to have them choose a man over me, and I’ve been with women and chose a man over them. Is this preference merely personal, or at the end of the day, are we socialized to choose a side?

I’d like to think that every time I’ve chosen (or been passed over for) a man it’s been because of the individual—but maybe there are bigger cultural forces at play. Heteronormativity is easier and perhaps on some level I’m scared to actively pursue a different lifestyle; scared of the unknown or of losing my level of comfort in a world that favors normative people. Some mornings when I would wake up next to my boyfriend, I wondered what it would be like to wake up next to softer skin. When I touched his broad shoulders, I thought about the curves that felt distant. I hate how much more comfortable I felt spooning with him in comparison to laying side to side with a woman.

At the end of the day, we are all going to get burned one way or another. I’m still learning how to be okay with that. Just because someone chooses someone else over you, for reasons beyond their control, doesn’t mean they don’t appreciate you for what you gave them.  And just because it doesn’t work out with someone, doesn’t mean there’s not others out there that it will.

I may have felt in moments that certain people took the easy way out, even myself at times, but who am I to decide what’s best? Your identity is uniquely yours and you should be able to explore however you wish, my only advice is be as transparent as possible with those you are intimate with regarding where you’re at on your identity journey.

Getting rejected sucks for everyone but getting rejected for something you were taught to suppress, can sting a lot deeper.

 

My Birth Control Implant

 

Three out of ten, I thought to myself. I always try to rate physically painful experiences as soon as they happen so that I can be as accurate as possible when describing them.

The Nexplanon implant was inserted into my arm on an average evening in November of 2016. My best friend from high school and their best friend dropped me off at the Planned Parenthood in our college town. While I sat alone in the sterile waiting room, they left to grab burgers at the A&W drive-thru down the road. “Can’t Stop the Feeling” by Justin Timberlake played faintly as the bleach-blonde receptionist sipped what she told me was her fourth coffee of the day.

This implant is a form of birth control that provides protection for up to three years and is 99.9% effective. According to the Nexplanon website, “Nexplanon must be removed by the end of the third year and may be replaced by a new implant at the time of removal, if you wish to continue preventing pregnancy with Nexplanon.” Because of its longevity, it is considered to be a long-acting birth control option, unlike birth control pills or shots that are more short-acting. Inserted into the inside of the less dominant arm, Nexplanon is a small, thin, flexible rod about the size of a matchstick. (Yes, you can feel it if you press on your arm but it’s not visible on everyone.)

Nexplanon is a newer version of the earlier Implanon model. Both only prevent pregnancy and not STIs. For almost a year, the Nexplanon implant prevented me from getting pregnant by thickening the mucus on my cervix, stopping sperm from meeting my egg.

The insertion itself was painless due to the numbing gel that’s injected into the insertion site—it was the gel injection that merited a three-out-of-ten rating. Insertion of the implant is done with a handheld machine that resembles a hot glue gun, which shoots the device into place. After both the gel and the implant were safely put in me, I left Planned Parenthood and joined my friends at a nearby pregame. When the gel wore off a few hours later there was a lot of soreness, but it only persisted for about three days. A small, circular scar just half a centimeter in diameter still lies comfortably on my bicep.

Albeit my introduction to this type of birth control was relatively positive, the months following were equal parts exhausting and frustrating. I got the Nexplanon implant inserted during the last day of my period, and two weeks after insertion I experienced spotting. The light bleeding lasted for two weeks before stopping. Two weeks later I spotted some more, this time for four weeks. My breakthrough bleeding occurred for six weeks after that, then eight, then eight again, then ten—all with two-week breaks in between. According to Healthline, doctors still aren’t sure why some people experience breakthrough bleeding on some forms of birth control, but some believe that it’s your body’s response to a high dose of hormones. When asked why I kept it in place for so long, I explained that the nurses told me to expect side effects for the first few months and I chose to combat this side effect by waiting it out. Unfortunately, this did not work, and I encourage anyone reading this to contact a medical professional when their birth control is not performing to their liking. Bleeding this much caused me to feel fatigued, irritated, bloated, and anxious; overall, I experienced many more negative side effects than positive ones. In fact, I think the only good that came out of trying Nexplanon was that it made my skin look flawless and I was able to have sex comfortably without getting pregnant.

Aside from the massive amounts of bleeding, another side effect I experienced was depression. I felt empty, irritable, lonely, nervous, and hopeless. I drank a lot and binged on food to make me feel better, neither worked. I cried a lot and spent many nights alone. Honestly, I felt horrible that so many of my friends were enjoying their Nexplanon experience, while I suffered in silence. I told nobody about my symptoms and side effects because I felt like a failure of a woman. How could I not respond well to a product that was designed for my body? How could I not perform womanhood?

When I was tired of the negative side effects I called my gynecologist and asked her to take a look at my situation. They ran every possible test, including an ultrasound, to make sure that there were no structural or chemical imbalances in my body. The results came back positive—there was nothing wrong with me. Hearing this news did not make up for several months of guilt and depression, but it did give me hope that I could find a solution. She suggested trying Junel, a progestin/estrogen combination birth control pill, for six months on top of the Nexplanon implant, to see if that would stop the spotting. I was admittedly hesitant to have two types of hormones in my body, but I was willing to try anything at that point.

A month into this dual birth control method yielded exceptional results: my period was back to normal! The six-month trial also briefly expelled my depression. I’d returned to my true self. As soon as I stopped taking Junel my breakthrough bleeding started again, but this time I didn’t wait out any negative side effects. After truly realizing that the Nexplanon implant just wasn’t for me, I scheduled my appointment for removal.

Removal is much more complicated than insertion because the nurse has to cut through the small scar and use a tongs-like device to grab onto the Nexplanon implant. Again, she injected numbing gel into my arm and the entire process took around 15 minutes. Like a true millennial, I documented the entire moment on my Instagram story.

I do not write this in order to urge people not to use the Nexplanon implant. In fact, my friends’ positive testimonies of their experience with this type of birth control prompted me to get it inserted in the first place. However, despite my extensive research, I was not able to find too many negative statements from reputable sources at the time. Everybody is different, which means that anyone can respond to the same chemicals and hormones in drastically different ways. While my friend Brandi hardly got her period on Nexplanon and my friend Maddie had nothing but good things to say about the implant, my lived experience with Nexplanon was overwhelmingly negative.

I currently still take Junel and love this method of contraception; however, someone else may have an opposing testament. There are side effects and complications that can occur with any type of birth control, and I highly suggest that anyone considering Nexplanon and looking for advice should consider my story along with any other positive ones before making a choice for their own body.

Sifting through the many different birth control stories may seem overwhelming, but I personally wish that there was more information for me to examine before stepping into that Planned Parenthood almost two years ago. One size does not fit all, and if you are interested in using birth control it is important to find one that fits you. Do not ignore any red flags!

*Addis is one of the founders of Bitter Blush, a platform that strives to discuss topics that traditionally make people blush. You can follow the blog on Instagram at @bitter.blush. 

Overcoming Self Shame

If I could diagnose my self shame, it would be the negative banter that races through my mind at a mile a minute, every time I do something that falls short of the superhuman I aspire to be. Be it the way I carry myself in public, the things I did or did not contribute to a conversation, failure to articulate, not feeling intelligent enough, blushing when I’m anxious, awkwardly fumbling through my very disorganized purse, or putting on an outfit that seems too boring or unfit for my personality, the list goes on.

Sometimes, my shame is a heaviness that sits in the pit of my stomach when I drive to work in the morning, as I ask myself what I’m doing with my life. Other times, it’s a giant finger shaking in my face disapprovingly after I scarf down a bag of chips, or a ball of fear that sits on my tongue and stops me from opening up to someone. Most times, it’s an ugly and ominous thing that regenerates every time I think I’ve almost killed it, like the black mold in my shower. It tells me I need to have a specific demeanor, be a film and music expert, know certain authors and have a creative job. It tells me I will never be a conversationalist, let alone a decent socializer.

When I pick up my head to look around, or down to stare at my phone screen, I see people living their lives in ways of their choosing, and it’s more often than not a sensory overload: people dressed in suits and ties, talking business on their bluetooth headsets. Other twenty-somethings that appear beautiful and happy. Creatives sharing impressive visions on social media. Instagram vanity. Usually, my internal monologue exclaims, “Dang, they have it together,” or “Why can’t I look like that or have that life?” As if these carefully curated images of other young people are meant to dictate how I should live my life.

My self shame becomes deprecation.

In overcoming this shame, my mind always circles back to the sentiment that “we’re all human.” I repeat it again and again, until it rings dumb in my head. But it doesn’t stop me from comparing myself to others, or from fearing them. We all create pseudo hierarchies of coolness, both in person and on the web—these fortresses of intimidation we attach to one another. How can one not come head to head with self shame when the scope of our world’s expectations is literally at our fingertips with features like Instagram’s explore page?! A vortex of media, from social outings and gatherings to recipes and diets, floods our minds. It can become daunting to live life in a certain way, without looking to others as a reference point—for what’s normal, and for what we have come to put on a pedestal.

I know what I need to do, but that doesn’t make the process any simpler. Self shame is a disorder that can quarantine me off from trying new things. I hide behind my phone when I walk outside, look past people rather than smiling and making eye contact, and stand a certain way in photos because I know it will make my legs look how I want them to. There are some facts, vocabulary words, and trends I simply don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I google search my way through life.

I can’t always pinpoint where my shame begins and ends, which makes overcoming it a confusing process to sort through. Especially when it becomes a habitual emotion. The solution to conquering the shame demon looks different for everyone. For me, my solution is being tirelessly courageous in my social interactions. Conquering my hypersensitivity and developing thicker skin. Being compassionate more often than self critical. Everyday, I have to remind myself that not everyone is going to be receptive. Some people might not hold the door, validate my work, or be compatible with what I put out. Taking chances on people—whether that’s smiling at a pedestrian, viewing people as my equals, or being forward with my feelings—is the only way I’ll move past the more debilitating parts of my shame.

Shame makes us human, but it doesn’t have to control us. Moving past my shame means doing things to serve my own happiness, and not to impress others. It’s an ongoing project that is special and unique to me. What might this project look like for you?