As a sex worker, it isn't my clients that pose a threat to my safety...it's men on dating apps

External contributor piece by April Shepherd

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Content Warning: sexual violence, rape, domestic/family violence, murder, abuse

In my industry, one of the most common misconceptions is that men who pay to be intimate with me are inherently Scary Bad Guys: sexist, dangerous, and part of a subculture to be feared.

It’s true, some of them are - but never as many, and as consistently, as the men I find on dating apps.

Photo by Flure Bunny on Unsplash

Assuming clients are a dangerous breed of man is a similar ideology to believing women are exclusively murdered by Scary Bad Guys in dark alleys; a well-worn fable regurgitated by the media without anchorage in truth.

In 2023, the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) released statistics from its Personal Safety Survey (PPS) 2021-22, which attested to this untruth. The PPS found women were much more likely to experience violence at the hands of a person known to them (35%), compared to a stranger (11%).

This research challenges the narrative woven by patriarchy and its foot-soldiers of the far-right; if a woman behaves and flourishes within the confines of oppression, she is safe.

Murder, rape, and assault are for the sluts, women who walk home drunk with clothes hugging their curves.

Stereotyping men who pay for sex as outcasts, freaks, and losers positions them as an ever-present danger. The men who are seen to sit at our dinner tables, take up space in our friendship groups and father our children escape the stigma.

So if we believe the story pushed down our throats by patriarchy, why are my clients nicer to me than most men I encounter on dating apps?

‘Whorephobia’ is simply defined as the hatred of sex workers, which many would assume comes predominantly from clients instead of civilians.

Whether it be genuine respect, a knight-in-shining-armour plot, pity, or another scene in the pantomime of sex work; in my experience the men who pay typically have more respect than those who don’t.

I love when my clients bring me gifts, extending the theatrics and illusion of organic connection.

I surmise this is a cynical way to look at it; they are being kind, want me to feel like a real-life woman.

From men outside of the industry gift-giving feels disingenuous and thinly veiled; if he pays for dinner I guess I owe him a fuck. I’d rather him just give me money, cards lay out on the table, skip dinner and let him take what he came for.

Clients befriend me like a sick dog on the street, unsure of how comfortable to get; for someone to choose this line of work they must be rabid, ready to attack at any-time.

I guess this is true. This job demands scrappiness, a sweetness with a quick-switch to cut-throat.

My job awoke something in me, neither good or bad, an unspeakable truth perhaps akin to the way survivors of near death experiences feel. Instead of seeing death, as sex workers we see - and are the doulas of - lust.

This is why clients treat me like a delicacy, whilst I often feel that to the men I let inside for free I am an assumed and deserved element of manhood, not a rare dish to be savoured.

Finishing a long shift to feel empty and raw is oddly satisfying, I feel rewarded and sometimes powerful. I rarely feel the same after a Tinder hook-up, the opposite really.

I’m not alone in this experience. Many of my friends lament to me how men from dating apps only want to come to their house, talk briefly, and cum quickly.

There is also the commonality of sexual assault in the everyday lives of women, with the ABS finding one in five women have experienced sexual violence in Australia.

Refusing to wear a condom or taking it off without consent (stealthing), choking without consent, and anal penetration without asking are very common assaults for me as a sex worker, and as a civilian.

After engaging in plenty of both paid and unpaid intimacy, I can confidently say that some of the worst assaults I’ve ever experienced were from men I met in my personal life.

The far-right and incel community’s move to mainstream society is simply whorephobia escaping the confines of the sex work industry. We’re all perceived as whores now.

I am proud of who I am, I own my promiscuity and my body. Whorephobia keeps us small, othered; maddens the patriarchy.

Women who know their value, run a bill for the emotional and physical labour of heterosexual intimacy, are the enemy of insecure men and the systems that support them.

So as long as my body remains mine, I will paint my face and perform the pantomime; to hell with the general audience, I perform for the stars.

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About the Author

April Shepherd

April Shepherd has been a journalist, writer and editor for the past eight years, working for an eclectic collection of magazine, newspaper and digital content publishers. She has also been in the sex industry for the past four years, working as a sugar baby, escort, model and content creator. Currently she is freelancing, blogging, modelling and working in the sex industry, and writing her debut novel Yes Daddy; a nonfiction novel exploring the nuances of the sugar baby world, and how the sex industry as a whole fits into our modern conservative society.

You can subscribe to April’s Substack HERE.

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