Friday, July 31, 2020
Emerging from university, with an education for which I put myself into debt that I’ll likely never repay, I found myself among the ashes of an economy that no longer existed. I have written on the relationship between mass unemployment and sex work. Now that we’re all in a world where millions of jobs have suddenly disappeared and people are wondering what they did it all for, I’m experiencing a solemn gladness that I quit the game years ago. The pandemic has certainly hurt my income and altered the way that I need to work, but the bubonic plague didn’t wipe out whores, and neither will this. You see, a life lived at the margins brings a certain resilience. When everyone else begins to lose their mind, you were already there. Now, watching swathes of middle-class women experiencing real economic uncertainty for the first time, I’m waiting for their revelatory moment: what do you do when there is no work, you have bills to pay and no time to wait, and there’s one job that will give you cash today?
Given the choices I had that day, continuing to work for a low wage and no job security would have driven me crazy. I chose the shortest route to freedom. There is a relationship between mental health and sex work, but it’s more of a cluster than a straight line, bound together by the realities of capitalism. I found myself in mad circumstances, and I crafted an escape route.
There's probably a way to go long on prostitution. Probably the porn industry. Condom manufacturers? Dismal science indeed.