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Nasty Woman: How Sex Work Gave me Freedom and Supported my Pole Dreams

As “elder” millennials, we were raised to believe that the only way to be successful in life is to graduate from high school, go to college, earn a degree, and then earn another degree.  This will catapult you into a good-paying job, and you may not like the work, but you’re not supposed to enjoy work.  To be an adult, you need to put your head down, do the daily grind working for someone else’s success, survive on weekends and PTO rations, and rejoice in what scraps of benefits you get, all to eventually retire at an age that you now have the time to do anything you want but not the ambition, energy, or knees for them. This is the way.  This had always been the way.  Not to go this path will lead to complete failure, you might even… end up “on the pole”.

*Dramatically clutches pearls*

Then my generation graduated from college during the 2008 economic collapse, and it all went out the window.

Entry-level jobs disappeared, and hiring freezes swept companies and departments, even in state government.  Millennials may love a good pause before starting an Instagram livestream to celebrate our pets’ birthdays. They can be summoned from anywhere simply by hearing, “Cash Money Records taking over for the ’99 and the 2000…”, but we are also resilient and adaptable.  We watched 9/11 live on TV in our classrooms, the economy fell, gas prices went up, a pandemic, and “the note” JWow and Snooky wrote. We witnessed mass school shootings, the Oklahoma City bombing, and whatever the hell was going on with Mel Gibson and Charlie Sheen.  So, taking on jobs we never planned for or were trained for just seemed like another average Tuesday.  Since graduating college I have been a substitute teacher, teaching assistant, teaching assistant for kids with autism, veterinary assistant, tattoo artist, piercer, shop manager, swim coach/instructor, lifeguard, mall kiosk worker, cocktail waitress, lifeguard, hair salon manager, bridal sales (while going through a divorce.), and of course, pole dance instructor/desk help.

 

And now, I’m an escort.  I am a hoe, skank, blah blah blah.  If you’re thinking, “wow, that took a hard left, ” um, did you read the title?  I am not a drug addict or homeless.  MY childhood had its trauma, but I also had healthy support systems and loving family members.  I have two separate degrees: one in Business Administration and the other in Sport Management.  I do my own taxes and pay back every cent I owe.  I have no criminal record.  I am healthy and up to date on all medical appointments and check-ups.  I am certified in CPR/AED/First Aid and hold a Tattoo License from the NYC Health Department.   When one thinks of a sex worker, they think of a lowly state, dancing in seedy clubs and working corners and piers for their next drug fix, their bodies likely end up in a dumpster, like on Law and Order.  There is so much stigma and stereotypes surrounding sex work.  If you do OnlyFans or Strip, you are a lazy slut who refuses to get a real job and are rolling in cash simply by showing off your feet or shaking your butt to strangers.  If you are an escort, you’re a disease-carrying crackhead with no fundamental skills or contribution to society.  We are judged, we are snubbed, and we are hunted.  Dominatrices are just man-hating, sadistic cunts that like to hurt people with no regard or respect.  Either way you look at it, sex, especially attached to femme-identifying people, is something we are supposed to keep private and sacred lest we lose our good name and virtue like ladies of the court.

 

I didn’t even meet my first sex workers until my 30s, when I moved to New York City from Upstate.  I always considered myself progressive and open-minded. That said, I still had many of the same stereotypical thoughts about sex work as the ordinary person.  That it’s the ultimate rock bottom that should be pitied and avoided at all costs.  Even once I started getting into pole dancing classes, anytime I heard someone was a stripper, it was like when my small-town high school got its first openly gay student.  I wasn’t disgusted or judgmental, just curious and full of wonder at this unfamiliar species.  They were long-legged goddesses in 8-inch heels that could turn their bodies into liquid as they hypnotized men into giving up their paycheck.  Like Sirens luring sailors to their deaths on rocky shores, but still, it could never be me. (and God laughed)

This all came to a head when I started working in a women-owned queer tattoo shop.  The owner was an online dominatrix.  One tattooer was a stripper, another worked in a dungeon, and with a private dom group.  It’s then that the stigma faded away as these intelligent, normal-ish women and nonbinary coworkers talked about their work as casually as they did about their tattooing or running errands.  The support and openness were so powerful, I started dipping my toe (pun intended) into selling feet pics.  For the record, you cannot make millions “just selling pictures feet”.  You don’t just take a few pictures of your feet, post them on FeetFinder.com, and sit back and watch your bank balance soar.  Online sex workers like OnlyFans, and Fetish Specialists (doms, foot models, etc.) are just as full-time as any other “work from home” office job, more even if you want to be successful at it truly.  You have to market, get social media-savvy, network, stay vigilant in posting and communicating with clients about their requests and purchases, be creative with posts, do make-up/hair, and looks, create high-quality, well-lit pictures and videos, and hustle, hustle, hustle.  Clients have a million options online, so you have to really fight to stand out and get the followers and income.  I learned this when, after a month of posting my feet, I’d made $30.

This is what eventually led to my first in-person session.  I was never pressured, recruited, or groomed for this. No one peer-pressured or even suggested the line of work.  My choices were strictly my own.  Thankfully, when I did make the choice, I was surrounded by supportive sex worker veterans in my shop.  They taught me which questions to ask and how to check IDs and phone numbers to verify records or look for negative reviews about someone.   We also developed a check-in/check-out text system and a shareable location list.  I was nervous when I met my client, but so was he, which oddly was comforting.  He stayed true to his work on payment and boundaries, and I kept waiting to feel dirty, ashamed, depressed, or just wrong during the whole appointment and my train ride after.  It never came.  What I did feel was empowered.  The idea that someone was willing to drop serious money just for some time with me, meanwhile, these chuckleheads on Hinge would barely buy me a drink on a date, was such a boost to my self-worth.  I had been having mediocre sex with people I didn’t really like out of fear or politeness for free for decades.  Now, at least, I could pay my rent and feel more in control.  I called the shots.  I was in charge.  Even as a submissive partner, I was the one running the show.  I eventually signed up for a highly recommended, well-known escort website where, instead of working for an agency, you worked for yourself.  You set your prices, your hours, your standards, your boundaries, whatever you want.  You could take on those you wanted to and say to those you didn’t.  You keep all the money you make and pay a monthly membership to the website that other sex workers run.  I graduated from college in 2008, and this was the first time I actually got to use my business degree.  I created appointment request forms, invoices, and confirmation texts/emails.

 

I didn’t have to miss out on events or performance opportunities because of work anymore, because I made the hours.  I didn’t have the stress about management or rude coworkers on my back because I am my own boss.  I didn’t have to worry about terrible customers because I selected who I wanted to work for.  If someone got nasty, I could rip them a new one instead of the usual fake-customer-service cosplay.  What are they going to do, write a Yelp review about how rude a hooker was?  Let them.   Every PoleCon workshop, Live Casino room, train, Competition registration fees, hotels/travel, classes, and privates have been made possible by sex work.  Have I bought you a drink before? The tip? Invested in your company’s product or studio?  That’s all hard-earned hand jobs, not handouts.  Fulfilling one person’s fantasy gives me the accessibility to live mine: a beautiful balance, a mutually fulfilling work relationship.

Now this is not to say it’s all fun and games.  There will always be disrespectful people who think that because of what you do, they can treat and talk to you anyway they want.  They will view your job as a hobby rather than a source of income and try to haggle prices, taking more and giving less in value.  There are dangerous people out there who simply want to hurt, stalk, and harass those who are vulnerable.  You have to be so, so careful when vetting and selecting who you work for.  There are still people forced into sex work via trafficking or force.  Several do fall into work as a result of addiction, abuse, and misfortune.  Just because sex work is becoming a more mainstream talking point, or that many have great stories, it doesn’t take away from those who are victims of it.  I will never promote this industry as the ultimate career.  There are no health benefits, no Social Security, no 401(k).  Money isn’t guaranteed, like a regular paycheck, so you could hit some very slow times when you can’t book someone for weeks or the clubs are dead.   This administration is at war with women, trans, and queer people, taking away our rights and access to healthcare and body autonomy.  Oh, they have no problem taking our whore money for their taxes, but God forbid a woman, or queer person, has too much power by using their own body.

 

Most sex workers are also professionals in “regular careers”, hustling on the side.  They are your pole instructors and studio owners, your dental hygienist, your nurses, they are parents, members of churches, college alums, and star athletes.  They are kind, hardworking, watch Bravo, listen to crime podcasts, and foster rescue animals. They earn money just as hard as anyone else, and their cash works just as well as anyone else’s. Sex work made my pole dreams possible.  For that, I will forever be grateful as well as thankful for the black and queer sex workers who came before me and brought awareness and demanded change.

Casey Danzig
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