Why Sex Work Should Be #Decriminalized

I’ve been reading Maggi McNeill’s blog on WordPress.com (off and on) since I started The Body House website in 2014.

Maggie McNeill, is a former (or still active?) sex worker turned blogger/activist.

In the video at the bottom of the post she gives us a lot of insight into the sex industry around the globe.

Below is a story she recounts from her early days as a sex worker:

“I once went to a dinner party with my best friend and business partner Grace.

The hostess was a friend of hers and an acquaintance of mine who had only recently found out that I had started working as a call girl.

She had known I was a stripper since we met, and that never seemed to bother her, but the transition to prostitution was apparently too much for her.

Exactly how much it bothered her I did not find out until after dinner, when the conversation turned to careers. The group was a highly educated one, and it was remarked on that no one there was working in the field of her degree.

Moreover, all of our careers were at least somewhat unusual. Since there was a lady there I had never met and did not wish to risk offending, I merely joined in the discussion without bringing up my own profession.

At least, that was my plan until the hostess suddenly spoke up.

“Maggie has a very interesting job,” she said sweetly, “don’t you, Maggie?”

Since everyone else there already knew what I did, her intent was obviously to embarrass me in front of the lady I had just met, who was middle-aged and fairly proper.

“Oh, really, what do you do?” she asked me, expecting nothing shocking, I’m sure.

“I’m a whore,” I replied matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me?” the lady asked, clearly believing she had misunderstood.

“A whore,” I repeated. “A prostitute. A call girl. A harlot, a lady of the evening, a hooker, a strumpet, a doxy, a fille de joie. A demimondaine, a woman of questionable virtue.”

This was delivered with a straight face and no hint that I had said anything more unusual than “bank teller.”

“Oh, how interesting,” the poor dear said faintly. Our hostess turned scarlet and someone quickly introduced a new topic of conversation.

I put up no fuss and simply continued on with the evening as though nothing had happened until the earliest polite opportunity to excuse ourselves and leave.”