What the Myths Miss

Dismantling Six Persistent Fictions About Sex Work

Each time I sit down at my computer to write a new blog, I tell myself this will be the one where I write about something else. Something unrelated to sex. Something that shows a version of me that isn’t tethered to the adult industry.

And yet, here we are again.

Perhaps it’s because, objectively speaking, my job is the most unusual thing about my otherwise very ordinary life. Or perhaps it’s because escorting still fascinates me, even now, from the inside. Before I entered the industry, it existed for me as a kind of tempting mystery. I consumed everything I could find about it: films, television series, books, blogs. This was long before podcasts gave everyone a microphone. Sex work felt like a secret world, pulsing just beneath the surface of normal life.

I remember exactly when that fascination began. I was an undergraduate, trudging toward the bus stop each morning, passing a brothel along the way. Red lights flickered in the window. I’d slow my pace, transfixed by fantasies of what went on inside. In my imagination, it was all velvet sheets and languid limbs, the air heavy with sweat and lust. The contrast between that alluring world, and the one waiting for me (lecture theatres, deadlines, dusty textbooks), felt almost cruel. On the bus, boredom would take over and my mind would wander back there. I wondered what it would be like to live inside that world. I pictured the women behind those doors, in their opulent bedrooms preparing for the day, slipping into heels, carefully applying their makeup for the day ahead. Could I ever do what they do? Could I ever be so bold? So self-possessed? Even now, standing firmly on the other side of the curtain, escorting remains a subject of intrigue for me.

So yes, another blog about escorting. But this time, I want to gently clear the air. Because despite how visible sex work has become, a surprising number of misconceptions still cling to it. Let’s start there.

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Myth One: You’d definitely know if someone you loved was an escort.

Would you?

What exactly do you imagine gives us away? Do we have a scarlet letter ‘A’ painted on our chests? Are you expecting to see condoms spilling out of our handbags at any given moment? Do we walk around in our daily lives in latex boots and red lipstick?

The reality is far less theatrical.

The truth is, an escort learns very early on that discretion is not optional. It's a survival skill. Most escorts live double lives with remarkable fluency. Friends, classmates, colleagues, even family members may never suspect a thing. As a client, you have the privilege of seeing an escort when she’s dressed to the nines. Makeup carefully applied, hair styled to perfection, breasts pushed up to the sky, flirtation in full effect, and inhibitions left meandering at the door. Every detail is designed to draw your attention. But outside of the confines of a booking, she is the girl doing everything she can to slip under the radar. We blend in. We keep our heads down.

She’s the girl studying in the library with her hair in a messy bun and her reading-glasses on. You wouldn’t have the foggiest idea that she’s hiding F-cup breasts under that baggy sweater. She probably doesn’t flash her money around or wear designer labels. And she may not broadcast her sexuality in the wild. In fact, many of us are noticeably more reserved than other women. If you see her in a bar or a night-club, her sex appeal while still alluring, may be more subdued, more contained. Her desire for you may not be blatant or obvious. Don’t expect her to behave like a nymphomaniac or to throw herself at every gentleman who looks her way. She’s probably not the girl going home with the guy she just met. After all, one-night-stands are counter-intuitive. Why work for free on your day off?

Escorts are experts at privacy. We maintain separate phones, clean browser histories, and mundane routines. We often work perfectly ordinary hours; we don't all lurk in the shadows of night. We are masters of disguise. In fact, if this career doesn’t pan out, I could probably pivot quite easily into a job as an undercover intelligence agent.

Myth Number 2: All sex workers have daddy issues, or were hurt by a man in the past.

Firstly, who hasn't been hurt by a man in the past?... Go ahead, I'll wait. Secondly, I can’t speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself, and for many of the sex workers I know. We are not damaged goods. We are not broken. We are not acting out unresolved trauma. We are not being coerced or secretly crying for help.

No abusive boyfriend in the background. No pimp trying to sell me out on the corner. No drug-dealer bikie waiting in our trailer-park home. In fact, I have nothing but amazing positive male figures in my life. My Dad is a wonderful, kind and protective man who has never expressed anything short of pride and love for me. Likewise, my grandad is the epitome of a good man: loyal, honest, hard-working, and he allows my grandmother to wear the pants and shine like the queen she is. I come from a loving family, and I'm incredibly blessed.

There is no trauma or abuse in my childhood. No history of addiction (unless you count chocolate). I was not a troubled teen. I was a straight-A student who thrived on rules and authority. I rarely, if ever, rebelled. And while we’re at it… my mental health is surprisingly sound for this crazy world we live in. I'm incredibly privileged. I am safe. I’m not a damsel in distress, or a victim in need of saving. I’m just a sex worker. And a happy one.

Myth Number 3: Escorts are rolling in cash.

Money helps. Of course it does.

But anyone who’s ever earned more than they used to, will tell you that income doesn’t eliminate anxiety. It simply changes its shape. The higher you climb, the more pressure you feel to maintain a certain standard of living. Because as your income grows, so too does your lifestyle. We get used to spending what we earn, and so our expenses become elevated in-line with our earnings.

Escorting is unpredictable. We become adept at rolling with the ebbs and flows. At times, I’m overwhelmed by the sheer volume of messages I receive, and at other times it’s like tumbleweed floating past a ghost-town and I start to wonder if maybe the phone signal dropped out days ago and hasn’t returned.

On top of that, there’s the income tax, GST, rent and advertising expenses. Plus no superannuation, income protection, sick days or holiday pay. And of course, there’s the ever-so-inconvenient no-shows that throw a spanner in the works. Don't believe the luxury you see plastered all over social media. Often it's exaggerated, sometimes completely fabricated. Often what you're seeing is the top 1%. After overheads, many sex workers are lucky to make a liveable wage.

As a fail-safe, I try to always keep a little rainy-day fund (a buffer) for just in case. Just in case I get my period and have to cancel a week of bookings. Just in case I get tonsillitis and my throat can no longer accommodate foreign objects. Just in case my dog decides to swallow the batteries from the TV remote and I have to fork out a massive vet bill. Just in case there’s a quiet week where no man wants to fuck me… Just in case, just in case, just in case. Financial literacy becomes a lifeline.

Myth Number 4: You could never trust an escort to be faithful. Once a whore, always a whore.

I think the best way for me to refute this one is with people, not theory. Let's take Angel for example. Angel is in her mid-20’s, she’s a gorgeous leggy blonde, and she’s one of the sweetest, most wholesome people I have ever met. She’s a loving wife, and an absolute Super-Mum to her two young children. By day, you can find her apron-clad in the kitchen, baking gluten-free brownies from scratch, for her son’s lunchbox. Or maybe even dressed up in a fairy tutu and tiara, hosting a birthday party for her daughter’s entire class. She’s the kind of Mum you see on TV commercials; glossy, put together, not a hair out of place. But Angel’s husband recently suffered a horrible spinal injury and has been left bed-ridden and out of work. So, by night, Angel works at a brothel to help make ends meet and to provide for her family.

Or how about one of my best friends, Jade Rose? Back in the day we used to make men’s dreams come true, with a threesome so hot you’d want to tell your grandkids about it. But she met a man, made a commitment to him, left the industry for love, and she’s never looked back. His trust meant everything to her and so she happily turned the page, ready to embark on their new life together.

As for me, when I eventually leave this work, I intend to be honest with the person I love. My past will not be a loophole that excuses disrespect or infidelity. I am monogamous by nature, and I want a deep, enduring partnership. What I do now does not define my worth, nor does it diminish my future capacity for love. And if he truly is the One, he will understand that being an escort was not a mistake; not an error in judgment, nor a rebellious phase I was passing through. It is not something I am ashamed of. It was a chapter of my life that allowed me to touch others, to make their lives better in small but meaningful ways. And on a personal level, it was exactly what I wanted and needed at that time, for my own growth and happiness.

Myth Number 5: Sex work takes a toll on the body.

Strap in — anatomy is my jam, and this idea collapses under even the slightest scrutiny. I’m perpetually baffled by the ignorance behind claims like this; the notion that a woman can somehow become “loose” from having sex. Where does this even come from? Misogyny, puritanism, fragile masculinity? Likely some unholy trifecta of all three. Is it meant to be a warning, designed to deter women from sexual freedom and herd them obediently toward chastity and marriage? Or is it a myth engineered to inflate men’s egos, exaggerating the supposed power of their cocks to permanently alter entire body parts? Either way, the logic is laughably flimsy once you stop to examine it.

Let’s do a little math. Woman A has sex with her husband once a day for a week. (Good on her!) Woman B has sex with a different man each night for a week. (Shame on her!) Both women have had sex exactly seven times. Yet somehow, magically, Woman A has retained her original “tightness,” while Woman B is now allegedly stretched out beyond repair by virtue of her sluttiness. Come on. Really? Is the theory that Woman B’s vagina is shape-shifting night to night, expanding and contracting to accommodate a rotating cast of penis sizes? Has Woman A’s vagina obediently moulded itself into a bespoke, custom-fit sleeve for her husband alone? Has it memorised his dimensions and locked them in for eternity? Sorry to burst the bubble, but that's just not how bodies work.

If the math doesn’t persuade you, perhaps the biology will. If a woman can birth a skull the size of a small melon and then return to her baseline, what hope does a penis have of permanently stretching her out? The vagina is composed of skin and muscle, what we call soft tissue. It contains collagen and elastin, allowing it to stretch and then rebound to its original structure. It is literally designed to expand, contract, tear, heal, and recover. If you believe your sex is causing lasting anatomical change, you are dramatically overestimating yourself.

Now yes, sex work can take a toll in the sense that rough, careless, or uncoordinated sex may occasionally cause minor tears, bruising, swelling, or inflammation. But these are temporary conditions. They do not alter the anatomy long term.

For the gym bros among you, perhaps this will make it make sense... Orgasms are essentially a workout for the pelvic floor. We’re contracting, releasing, and engaging those muscles repeatedly. Low load, high reps. Blood flow increases. Muscle tone improves. It’s resistance training for the coochie. By every metric you respect, this would make things stronger and tighter over time, not looser. Bottom line: If she feels “looser,” it’s far more likely she’s simply more relaxed; meaning aroused. That’s a good thing. Stop making women feel ashamed of their bodies responding properly to pleasure.

And while you’re at it, let go of this medieval notion that a woman’s “width” is proportional to her sexual experience. We are built differently. It’s genetics. Just like your penis size. How would you feel if women believed that small penises were a sign of excessive promiscuity? That too much sex slowly whittles a cock down through friction and overuse until it resembles a large toe? Absurd, right? Exactly.

This myth exists for one reason only. To shame women for enjoying sex and to keep us manageable, controllable, and quiet. No one’s buying it anymore.

Myth Number 6: All escorts are atheists. You can't be religious and also choose this line of work.

I believe in God. I also believe that kindness, compassion, decency, and humanity matter far more than sexual repression. I don’t equate virtue or integrity with chastity, and I don’t believe desire negates faith. You can be spiritual and sexual. You can be moral and embodied. You can seek God and still seek pleasure.

To me, sexual purity is not synonymous with a pure heart. A good person can have a healthy sexual appetite and fully enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, just as a virgin can be cruel or unkind. Consensual adult sex is not a question of morality.

My faith is personal. Quiet. Lived rather than performed. And no, I’ve never burst into flames upon entering a church. But does that really surprise you, given the world we live in? Turn on the news and you’ll see atrocities committed daily in the name of power, greed, and cruelty. If getting paid for consensual sex is a sin, I suspect it ranks fairly low on God’s divine list of things to smite people for. As far as human failings go, I sleep soundly at night, and I think I’m doing just fine.

In fact, this work has allowed me to take care of my family and shoulder much of the financial burden for some of the most honourable, kind, and decent human beings you could ever meet. That alone ensures there is no regret in my heart. But even if the money were squandered, it would still be a legitimate choice: it harms no one and, in many cases, genuinely improves people’s lives. When I ask myself WWJD (what would Jesus do?), as I understand it, I’m actually living that doctrine rather well.

I believe in God, and I do my best to live in a way that both He and I can be proud of. I also happen to enjoy frequent orgasms. The two are not mutually exclusive.

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I think myths about the sex industry persist because fantasy is easier to digest than nuance. But reality, I’ve found, is far more interesting. Thanks for reading, and for staying curious!

Yours in truth,

Jasmine x