Sometimes I wonder if my dissertation supervisor would laugh or cry if she knew how I fund my research. I'm literally reading Foucault while waiting for a client, thinking about power structures in such deliciously ironic contexts.
The academic world pretends sex work is this massive taboo, but honestly? My clients are often more intellectually engaging than half the postgrads I know. Last week, I had a finance director who wanted to discuss modern monetary theory before we got down to business. Another guy just wanted someone to listen while he unpacked his complicated feelings about his divorce.
People assume sex work is just about sex. It's not. It's about emotional labor, about creating a space where someone can be completely vulnerable. My PhD in sociology isn't wasted here. If anything, it's enhanced.
The cognitive dissonance is real, though. One moment I'm presenting research, the next I'm carefully managing a completely different kind of interaction. But both require empathy, boundaries, and a deep understanding of human complexity.
Edinburgh's academic scene is small. I'm always slightly paranoid I'll run into someone who knows me. But then again, who really knows anyone completely?