Being In A Relationship With A Sex Worker : A Discussion.
Originally posted in 2023.
So....Being in a relationship with a sex worker.
How does that work? Does it work? Why does it work?
Two backgrounds...
1 A Yorkshire girl that's been brought up by a mother who's own parent's kicked her out when she was found to be pregnant. A woman who had to make her way. The daughter loves her mum to bits but her mother doesn't know how to be a mother. Their relationship is very one-sided. The daughter learns to be very self-sufficient but missing out on love.
The girl's mum is a sex worker and what starts out as wanting to create some form of bond between mum and daughter - a commonality - soon becomes an addiction to the girl.
2 A Newcastle girl that's got a very supportive and caring family. There's love all around but, sometimes, she feels like she doesn't fit it. The parent's aren't quite understanding...and she can't understand it herself, but she feels different to others.
The 80's and early 90's are a time when being different gets looks and sniggers. It can be embarrassing too.
I learned that I was sexually attracted to women but, finding someone that I could be open to, that was scary. What it it changed friendships for the worst? What if someone found out and people would laugh at me?
..and Samantha found, as a streetwalker, that cars would pass by the red light district with a bunch of girls shouting "Slag!" out the window or people shooting her disapproving glances. That must be hard to deal with.
In the early 90's I was at University in Derbyshire, Teacher Training and all the things that surround that. I also had a part-time job....
Too afraid to ask out some of the girls that I shared a house with, or other girls that I had become friends with, I decided to see a professional about my sexual orientation.
A gorgeous blonde....bit like Marilyn Monroe....I nervously picked her up in the red light district. First proper time I had sex. We saw each other for a few months.
That was Emma, Samantha's mate.
Emma pushed Samantha towards me, as a prospective client, and that was the start.
It soon became something else, first for Samantha and then for me. We dated. We became a couple. We lived together.
The perils? Oh, there's lots! Prostitutes are generally looked upon as being something you scrape off your shoe. Something wrong with them and, if you're friends with them or - god forbid - something else then it's guilt by association.
Character assignation by another name.
I've had occasions when I have been in a club with Samantha and, with her being seen by a casual punter, and heading off to the toilets, the punter has seen me and automatically assumed that I was 'on the game' too! Asking me for sex? That can be very upsetting, especially if said person is trying to grab you by the hand.
There's the notion that every man that we pass that gives a nod, or a smile or says hi to her, when we are together, that he's had sex with her.
The flip is that a scorned woman, of one of her punters, can come up to her and start calling her dreadful names...which sometimes ends up with said girl being punched in the face.
There's times when she's working and I really want her with me, if I am going through some sort of emotional thing, but I know that she's busy. That's tough.
There's probably people out that that might look on this as "Well, she must be getting something out of it. Bet she's just using her, she doesn't love her, she's just pimping her, just for the money she makes..."
Those kinds of comments are the most hurtful.
Samantha's the brave one, I'm the more conservative one. I'm her rock, she's the fighting through the jungle one. We compliment each other.
What sex workers are good at are developing relationships and making the other one feel important. It's not just sex, it's a feeling of safety and security.
What I had, I guess, is that strong sense of family that she didn't have much of, at the time. That unconditional love and respect.
It wasn't always that way, of course. Famously - I say 'famously', as we both bring it up in conversation - we were together at that early point and all the jealous, negative feelings that one has about oneself manifested itself in our relationship. It was our way of dealing with pain.
A few years away from each other, as heartbreaking as it was - from Samantha splitting us up - was what was needed. A bit of distance, a bit of perspective...a bit of, dare I say it, growing up? On both sides.
We've grown into better people, individually, and when we got back together it was all about how can we make it work? What is important to us, and finding a way through that.
I know that prostitution is very important to her, as odd as that may sound, and she will be in the twilight years of her career. I have to honour that, just as she honours my being a teacher. That mutual respect, that's important.
She divorces the sex from love, and has done for over 40 years of her being in the business, and I do my best to live up to that ideal as I can. Never easy. Easier as the years go by, but far from easy.
We have our own family now, and family is sacred to us. That's something that we (oh, ok...and Mulder our cat) have built up, that we have pride in, that we cherish.
In the Covid years, I was sinking. She kept the home afloat, home-schooling our daughter as I was trying to keep our school from sinking. She was my rock.
Flip forward earlier this year when we stood together (with our friend) and explained to our respective daughters what Samantha and Gina did for a living....I did my best to be her rock.
It's not easy, loving a sex worker. We haven't even touched upon her drug recovery. That's all part of the lifestyle. But, if you're soulmates then love will prevail...
I'd have rather have had a regular girl with none of this emotional baggage, but...who am I kidding? That would be a bit boring! You can't choose who you fall in love with, but you can choose how you make it work.
Karen x
So....Being in a relationship with a sex worker.
How does that work? Does it work? Why does it work?
Two backgrounds...
1 A Yorkshire girl that's been brought up by a mother who's own parent's kicked her out when she was found to be pregnant. A woman who had to make her way. The daughter loves her mum to bits but her mother doesn't know how to be a mother. Their relationship is very one-sided. The daughter learns to be very self-sufficient but missing out on love.
The girl's mum is a sex worker and what starts out as wanting to create some form of bond between mum and daughter - a commonality - soon becomes an addiction to the girl.
2 A Newcastle girl that's got a very supportive and caring family. There's love all around but, sometimes, she feels like she doesn't fit it. The parent's aren't quite understanding...and she can't understand it herself, but she feels different to others.
The 80's and early 90's are a time when being different gets looks and sniggers. It can be embarrassing too.
I learned that I was sexually attracted to women but, finding someone that I could be open to, that was scary. What it it changed friendships for the worst? What if someone found out and people would laugh at me?
..and Samantha found, as a streetwalker, that cars would pass by the red light district with a bunch of girls shouting "Slag!" out the window or people shooting her disapproving glances. That must be hard to deal with.
In the early 90's I was at University in Derbyshire, Teacher Training and all the things that surround that. I also had a part-time job....
Too afraid to ask out some of the girls that I shared a house with, or other girls that I had become friends with, I decided to see a professional about my sexual orientation.
A gorgeous blonde....bit like Marilyn Monroe....I nervously picked her up in the red light district. First proper time I had sex. We saw each other for a few months.
That was Emma, Samantha's mate.
Emma pushed Samantha towards me, as a prospective client, and that was the start.
It soon became something else, first for Samantha and then for me. We dated. We became a couple. We lived together.
The perils? Oh, there's lots! Prostitutes are generally looked upon as being something you scrape off your shoe. Something wrong with them and, if you're friends with them or - god forbid - something else then it's guilt by association.
Character assignation by another name.
I've had occasions when I have been in a club with Samantha and, with her being seen by a casual punter, and heading off to the toilets, the punter has seen me and automatically assumed that I was 'on the game' too! Asking me for sex? That can be very upsetting, especially if said person is trying to grab you by the hand.
There's the notion that every man that we pass that gives a nod, or a smile or says hi to her, when we are together, that he's had sex with her.
The flip is that a scorned woman, of one of her punters, can come up to her and start calling her dreadful names...which sometimes ends up with said girl being punched in the face.
There's times when she's working and I really want her with me, if I am going through some sort of emotional thing, but I know that she's busy. That's tough.
There's probably people out that that might look on this as "Well, she must be getting something out of it. Bet she's just using her, she doesn't love her, she's just pimping her, just for the money she makes..."
Those kinds of comments are the most hurtful.
Samantha's the brave one, I'm the more conservative one. I'm her rock, she's the fighting through the jungle one. We compliment each other.
What sex workers are good at are developing relationships and making the other one feel important. It's not just sex, it's a feeling of safety and security.
What I had, I guess, is that strong sense of family that she didn't have much of, at the time. That unconditional love and respect.
It wasn't always that way, of course. Famously - I say 'famously', as we both bring it up in conversation - we were together at that early point and all the jealous, negative feelings that one has about oneself manifested itself in our relationship. It was our way of dealing with pain.
A few years away from each other, as heartbreaking as it was - from Samantha splitting us up - was what was needed. A bit of distance, a bit of perspective...a bit of, dare I say it, growing up? On both sides.
We've grown into better people, individually, and when we got back together it was all about how can we make it work? What is important to us, and finding a way through that.
I know that prostitution is very important to her, as odd as that may sound, and she will be in the twilight years of her career. I have to honour that, just as she honours my being a teacher. That mutual respect, that's important.
She divorces the sex from love, and has done for over 40 years of her being in the business, and I do my best to live up to that ideal as I can. Never easy. Easier as the years go by, but far from easy.
We have our own family now, and family is sacred to us. That's something that we (oh, ok...and Mulder our cat) have built up, that we have pride in, that we cherish.
In the Covid years, I was sinking. She kept the home afloat, home-schooling our daughter as I was trying to keep our school from sinking. She was my rock.
Flip forward earlier this year when we stood together (with our friend) and explained to our respective daughters what Samantha and Gina did for a living....I did my best to be her rock.
It's not easy, loving a sex worker. We haven't even touched upon her drug recovery. That's all part of the lifestyle. But, if you're soulmates then love will prevail...
I'd have rather have had a regular girl with none of this emotional baggage, but...who am I kidding? That would be a bit boring! You can't choose who you fall in love with, but you can choose how you make it work.
Karen x
51-55, F
