Sex work

I had an epiphany connecting my engagement with sex workers — and my uncertainty about Margot’s performativity — to my childhood in a ‘funhouse of distortion,’ raised to believe my father was straight. Wondering whether Margot is real or performing repeats the same psychic wound: never being able to trust what I saw or was told.

A momentary lapse of reason about Serena.

I use Persephone to revisit feelings of rejection and abandonment.

It’s a new year. Here’s hoping it’s a good one.

An unfinished, scattered meditation on sex trafficking — what I know, what I don’t, and the joyless workplaces that aren’t limited to the sex industry.

Among the dozens of women I encountered, what struck me most was the enormous variety — and what that taught me about sex work as a category, not a thing.