I'm facing my fears (vulnerable!!!!)

I am currently reading Thriving in Sex Work: Heartfelt Advice for Staying in the Sex Industry. This is apparently a very iconic book in the industry, so I’m excited to finally be reading it myself.

The first chapter is about getting to know your fears so you can face them. The author, Lola Davina, writes:

“As sex workers, we cross lines for a living, laboring outside the bounds of polite behavior. We flaunt social norms, operate in legal gray areas, and smash taboos. Transgression can be liberating and exhilarating, but may result in very real negative physical, emotional, social, and legal consequences. Denying that fact leaves us even more exposed to danger—we cannot look away because we're too afraid.”

This is literally page 14, so we know the rest of this book is going to be amazing. But she’s correct. There are so many fears surrounding this industry. I have to admit, I have a lot of fear in my heart as a sex worker. There are many things I’m scared of, and I seldom think about them—let alone talk about them or share them with others.

My cam personality is very headstrong and confident. But the reason I think I come off that way is that I’m desperate for people to believe I am fearless and take zero shit. The reality is, I’m scared, and I take a lot of shit from people.

This book encourages the reader to sit with themselves and list their deepest, darkest fears. So that’s what I’m going to do here. This is not easy for someone like me. I curate my image on purpose, and this is a vulnerability exercise—way more vulnerable than showing you guys my b-hole online. So here it goes...

I am afraid of...

Being doomed to a life of sex work forever

I’ve been a sex worker since I was 18. I turn 29 this year. I truly never thought I would be doing sex work this long. I even went back to school and earned my master’s, intending to quit sex work and move on with my life. Even after all that hard work, I’m still in the industry because the job market sucks (even with a master’s and state licensure).

As I approach my 30s, I think about my time in the industry and I get scared. What if I never have the option to leave? What if I’m still camming into my 30s—or even 40s? What if camming tainted my professional reputation so badly that I’m stuck in sex work forever? Can I even work a “real” job after being in sex work this long?

I feel like no matter how hard I work to set myself up to leave, the goalpost is always moving and keeping me trapped in this loop. I’m scared that I wasted my time and money getting my master’s. I truly felt like my education was my ticket to freedom. But I found out upon graduating that it’s not. That scares me.

I’m scared that if I do sex work forever, I won’t make it to 40. That sounds so dark, but it’s really how I feel. I don’t think I would be able to mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually handle that.

I support those who choose sex work. I never judge people doing sex work in their 30s, 40s, and beyond—I want to make that perfectly clear. However, when I think about my own journey, I just never thought I would be doing this job as long as I have. Because I’ve been here so long, it makes me feel stuck.

That scares me deeply—being stuck. Am I good enough to make it out in the world? Or will I be stuck, doomed to a life of sex work forever?

I will never have the romantic relationship I crave

Most of the time, I feel like sex work ruins my chances of making connections with people. I’m scared that I will never find someone who loves or accepts me. I have had many horrible experiences dating as a sex worker—to the point where I’ve opted out of dating for almost 5 years.

Most of the conflicts I’ve had in romantic relationships revolve around me doing sex work. It breaks my heart that this is such a point of contention when dating me. I am so much more than just a sex worker. I’m afraid I’ll never have the romance I so badly want to experience. I’m afraid I’ll never experience emotional security with another person. I’m afraid that sex work has marked me for life, warning others to never get close to me.

But I want love. I want a partner. I want someone to love me and cherish me. But I’m afraid no one will. This is why feeling stuck scares me. If I’m stuck here, then I’m undateable or unlovable.

Sometimes I feel like I’ll only be considered as a dating option if sex work is in my past rather than my present. It’s much easier for people to understand and forgive something if it’s behind you. But I don’t know if—or when—this will all be behind me. I’m afraid I’m not good enough or worthy enough of a whirlwind romance.

Feeling like I’m not good enough is a deep part of my lore—another fear I have, actually. What if I’m not good enough to be someone’s someone? Ew, sorry, that sounds so pick-me. But fuck, don’t we all want to be someone’s someone?

I know there are many people in the industry who are in loving and committed relationships. However, when I look at those relationship dynamics, it’s usually something I wouldn’t want for myself. So I feel like there’s no blueprint, no inspiration to look up to. Which scares me—because it makes me feel like this desire to love and be loved is unattainable. If I don’t see it happening for others, then how could it possibly happen for me?

I will die alone

I feel marked—like that whore from The Scarlet Letter. I feel like an undesirable outside of sex work. What happens to the undesirables? They die alone.

Sometimes I fear I won’t have a life partner to share experiences with, and that is isolating and scary. But other times, that fear goes even deeper. What if I literally die alone? I live alone. I am single. I am independent, yes, but I am alone. Utterly alone.

What if I die in this apartment, all alone? What if I’m old and weak and can no longer care for myself, and I shrivel up and die alone? What if no one knows? What if I’m rotting and not a soul on earth cares?

Sex work can be so isolating that it feels like I’m going to die alone in that isolation—the industry spitting me out because I am no use to it anymore.

Taking my own life

This is so twisted and horrible, and a part of me is sorry for writing this—but it’s also very raw and real. Sometimes I get afraid that the stress will be too much. The fears will be so overwhelming that I just decide to cut the music and end it all.

I’m afraid of this because I’ve been in that dark place many times throughout my sex work career. There have been many nights that I cried so hard I lost my voice. I’ve written multiple goodbye letters at different points in my life. I even sat there holding a g*n, debating if this was going to be my last night on earth.

When I feel doomed to a life of sex work, this is when I feel the most scared and hopeless. I feel so deeply. Feeling hopeless is a dangerous feeling for me—so dangerous that I’ve pushed my mental limits and convinced myself numerous times that I’d be better off dead.

It scares me that sex work has that kind of power over me.

For those who are worried about me, I’ve taken precautions to avoid this situation. I’ve asked a family member to take my g*n out of my house. I’ve opened up to family and friends about my mental health struggles. I’ve also been in therapy ever since I wrote my last suicide letter.

But the fear still lives inside me—because I’ve taken myself to that place before. So what’s stopping me from going there again? What if I feel impulsive and it’s over? So many sex workers meet this fate. What if sex work literally kills me?

Would I have these same fears if I were a bus driver or a barista? A better question is: would I have these same fears if my therapy business were thriving post-graduation? Honestly, I don’t think so. In a perfect world, my life went according to the timeline I created in my head. I graduate, I get licensed, I start my practice, and I build my client caseload to the point I feel stable enough to say goodbye to sex work.

But that didn’t happen. Life isn’t going according to that timeline. Thus, my fears are alive.

Will I ever be able to stop doing sex work?

Will I ever be able to find love?

Or will I die alone?

Will I be the one to put myself out of my misery?

I feel like these fears exist because I had expectations of myself, and I failed. I’m coping with the fact that things didn’t go according to plan. It makes me feel like a loser.

Lola Davina writes, “Every ‘worst thing in the world’ boils down to the same core terrors: loss of love, loss of wholeness, loss of safety. They show us our true heart’s desires.”

This is comforting because she’s right. My fears are my fears—but they’re also what my heart desires. I desire to move on from sex work with dignity. I desire to pursue the career I worked so hard for in school. I desire a true love—a partner who will be there for me. I desire to live a full life, surrounded by friends and family who love and accept me for who I am.

I desire to live. I want to live. I want to see life through to the end.

We all have something that makes us feel unlovable, trapped, or too far gone. But the truth is, those fears are just mirrors — reflecting back what we most need: love, freedom, connection. We’re not alone in wanting those things. And we’re not wrong for still believing we can have them. Naming our fears doesn’t make us weaker — it makes us braver. Sex work has taught me how to endure, but also how deeply I want to live a life that feels like my own. I don’t have all the answers yet. But I do have clarity, and that’s a powerful place to start. I still feel scared. But instead of letting those fears rule me, I’m starting to look them in the eye. I want to choose my future, not fear it. And maybe that’s what healing really looks like — choosing to live anyway.

“How much of our lives are wasted living in dread? Bravery is the gift we give ourselves by trusting the world, even with all the dangers and unknowns.”

Thank you for reading.

Resources for the Suicide Hotline:

Call or Text 988

https://988lifeline.org/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=onebox

https://integralcare.org/en/247-crisis-helpline/

https://www.iasp.info/