I’m at the grocery store with my grandparents and my grandpa has wandered away and now my grandma is going up every isle yelling his name and im hiding behind a cookie display cuz i dont want anyone to know im with the crazy woman screaming dick at the top of her lungs
i dont get asexuals. like, humans have an instinctual need to mate, right? they also need to hunt. thats why i dont get people who dont attack their own kin on the streets and rip their flesh up with bare hands either. i live in seclusion, up high there in the mountains. i dont know what is an “internet”. i assault hikers for food
“There’s no denying that sex work is dangerous work. Engaging in the sex trades increases a person’s risk for criminalization, acquiring HIV or other STIs, sexual abuse and violence. It can also, for myself at least, complicate and conflate your image of self, of love, of sex, of value, not to mention the stigma that is internalized about the work you do, work that often leads others to define you and your character.”—
Janet Mock, relating some of her experiences with sex work in a broader context as well as individual.
it’s especially that last part that hits me in the gut (I tried to bold it, or italicize it or something, but I’m just a tumblr fuck-up, I guess?).
when my friends tell me they’re thinking about going into the sex industry, it’s that last part that I want to tell them about, the complication of your self image, and of how you inter-relate sex, love, and value in your personal relationships—those things will be forever altered for many of us who have done sex work. some people walk away unchanged, maybe, but trading my body for shelter and safety and money has changed the way i see these things forever, maybe just in that it has made me conscious of all the complications that were there before.
ANYHOW. TLDR; JANET MOCK IS GREAT, THIS PIECE IS SO GOOD, GO READ IT BEFORE I VOMIT AN EMOTION ALL OVER YOUR NICE NEW SWEATER.
Man I feel really bad for the Tumblr Staff because I bet they aimed for Tumblr to be a cool, suavé, photographic place for artists but in reality it’s made up of hormonal teenagers who obsess over gay fictional characters, and can’t even handle the reblog button turning green to teal