I later found a lot of enjoyment in entering gay “cruising” culture as passing man. It’s that same impersonal, focused on just the pleasure and not the meaning - but without the power dynamic and pretense. I say, this is what I want, he agrees, and then a fun time is had by all.
I think the difference between say, sex as work and making food as work - I don’t really need to care or like the person who makes my food. There’s not an incentive for them to participate in something that can be physically painful or uncomfortable and then even pretend to be enjoying it through that pain. A lot of workplaces do force you to pretend in similar ways - don’t Chikfila employees have to say “my pleasure” or something - but pretending while dissociating in the act does fuck with your head in unique ways I think.
Working in Nevada or the Netherlands might be different. I guess when legalized, maybe you can say “slow down” or press a button for help when they take off the condom. I’ve only lived my life of course.
I do have some professional help, but don’t live in an area where the mental health needs of transexual former hookers are particularly accommodated for.
I know from my netherlands visits (from locals, personally i’m not into sex workers) that the bouncers in the Amsterdam redlight district don’t fuck around when one of the girls have any issue with a client, so they tend to behave themselves.
I think you hit the nail on the head about the power-dynamic and pretense. Regardless, I hope you at least keep talking about it to people who would try not to judge. I think sitting and dwelling on that kind of trauma, or even ignoring it can cause all sorts of problems.
I guess, desire needs to be reciprocal for me.
I later found a lot of enjoyment in entering gay “cruising” culture as passing man. It’s that same impersonal, focused on just the pleasure and not the meaning - but without the power dynamic and pretense. I say, this is what I want, he agrees, and then a fun time is had by all.
I think the difference between say, sex as work and making food as work - I don’t really need to care or like the person who makes my food. There’s not an incentive for them to participate in something that can be physically painful or uncomfortable and then even pretend to be enjoying it through that pain. A lot of workplaces do force you to pretend in similar ways - don’t Chikfila employees have to say “my pleasure” or something - but pretending while dissociating in the act does fuck with your head in unique ways I think.
Working in Nevada or the Netherlands might be different. I guess when legalized, maybe you can say “slow down” or press a button for help when they take off the condom. I’ve only lived my life of course.
I do have some professional help, but don’t live in an area where the mental health needs of transexual former hookers are particularly accommodated for.
I know from my netherlands visits (from locals, personally i’m not into sex workers) that the bouncers in the Amsterdam redlight district don’t fuck around when one of the girls have any issue with a client, so they tend to behave themselves.
I think you hit the nail on the head about the power-dynamic and pretense. Regardless, I hope you at least keep talking about it to people who would try not to judge. I think sitting and dwelling on that kind of trauma, or even ignoring it can cause all sorts of problems.