I did it for the money but it was also true that I enjoyed it. Like no job I'd had before, stripping took skills. Yes, it was physically strenuous, but it was not only physical. Interacting with customers required intelligence and personality. I was free to be myself—or, at least, a part of myself. Indeed, of all the jobs available to me at the time, there was no question: stripping was, by far and in many ways, the best. It had the best uniform. I could make my own hours. I liked to dance. I felt genuinely good at it. And then there was the money.
Welcome to the H-Word, a series dedicated to evaluating, challenging, and re-presenting sex worker portrayals in the media from a feminist, pro-sex worker (though not necessarily pro-sex work) stance. If that seems contradictory or impossible, keep tuning in. Besides my perspective, this column will present first-person stories from individuals across the country and from all areas of the industry sharing a part of their story and describing their experiences. Sex workers speaking for themselves, about themselves?! It is not so radical an idea—why, straight white guys have been doing it since the beginning of time!