It is becoming more apparent every day that I am burned out. I am a mess. I worked again last Thursday, and most of my appointments were pleasant. I had a few polite, respectful clients who appreciated my skills. I started to remember what I enjoy about my job. Then I dealt with yet another rude client who wanted to trample my boundaries because ‘hey girl, you’re making good money. You should be down with an unlubed finger in your ass at 7 am.’ I am so sick of catering to the desires of others. I am so sick of being expected to perform like a porn star. I have so much knowledge and experience around sexuality, but how am I supposed to apply it when it is treated as something of little value? So many men don’t understand true ecstasy. They do not want to take their time in a sexual encounter. They expect that our bodies work like the depictions of women’s bodies in porn. And hey, even porn star’s bodies don’t work that way, but we don’t see the prep time off-camera. We just see the hard cock sliding into the tight yet pliable asshole.
I used to be a sex freak. Now, I get exciting sexual offers in my private life and I only feel tired and pressured. And lonely. I don’t want sexual adventure right now. I mean, that’s not entirely true. I have a very exciting sex life with Josh, and I still love sex with him. Sex with him keeps me connected to my body, keeps me anchored, keeps me present. Still, the conflict between work and personal life is taking a serious toll on me. He is aware of my work, but I still feel uncomfortable talking about it. I can talk about the parts I like, about the people who do appreciate what I have to offer. I don’t feel comfortable telling him about the difficult seven hour session that left me feeling gross and traumatized. I don’t feel comfortable telling him how burned out I am at fast sex. He seems to understand it intuitively, and he gives me extra foreplay and sensuality when I take longer to respond… but it is taking a toll not talking about it. I’m afraid that if he knew the extent of my current distress, he will leave me. He still talks about sex workers like they are ‘other people’ not like I am among them. He never says anything derogatory, but it still leaves me feeling uneasy.
I am also at my ropes end with the agency. There are a lot of great things about the agency, and I enjoy most of the people there, but I am fed up with the boss. She seems to see us working girls as nothing more than dollar signs. She can’t force us to work, but she does this passive-aggressive manipulation thing to get her way. She has also cut corners when it comes to screening clients, and the times that I have been in unsafe situations have generally been on her watch. She also takes fifty percent of everything we make, which is pretty high considering that we are the ones out there taking the risks.
Now that I have this new opportunity to work with Rania doing tantric coaching and sensual massage (no sex beyond a happy ending), I wonder what I am doing at the agency. I would be making the same money working with her, and it would be way more my thing. I could still help people and guide them through sexual experiences without compromising myself in the process.
Of course, to do that, I would need to set up my home like a tantric temple. My apartment is not ideal for this sort of thing. I discovered mold in my closet last week. The place doesn’t have the best air, and it’s really small. I also have neighbors who keep an eye on everyone. It’s a bit like living in a small town. I like the woman who lives upstairs, and I have told her a bit about what I do, which was probably partly out of desire to get myself evicted and thus released from the obligations of my lease. I need a new apartment. I need to rethink my career. I need to make a lot of changes. Fingers crossed, I think good things lie ahead for me.