What if the pandemic gave us freedom instead of taking it away? In a world that often discriminates against sex workers, I FIND THE LIGHT celebrates one woman’s choice to quit her boring office job, and embrace a new way of living.
I’ve always had big boobs.
One of the first things people used to say to me was,
‘wow, you’ve got big boobs’,
like I didn’t know and I used to smile like,
oh, you’re right, thanks.
I was shy. Generally I mean. Behind the scenes kind of person.
I wouldn’t say boring, just, you know, normal.
My mum used to say I was lucky, blessed.
‘Breasts like that make money, one way or another love.’
They made me feel…heavy, mostly.
But then, I dunno, when the first lockdown came round
and I spent another day scrolling through insta bored out my mind
from my 9-5, which was still 9-5,
even though it made no difference at all what time
I did the mindnumbing shit I did for them from home,
I saw a girl from my old school, used to be a right emo,
now all plump and cleavage and pouting,
shouting about how she’s making £10k a month on onlyfans
and anyone who needs the money should do it…
well, I did it. Quit my job. Did it.
And my tits, well, they feed me now. Ha.
I mean, that’s their ultimate purpose right, feeding?
Not saying they need to actually feed to have a point,
just that biologically that was their design function
and while the thought of a baby biting away makes me feel sick,
the fact that some bloke living who knows where
pays 100 dollars to see me squeeze my nips means that in a way,
they are feeding – me and others, financially
and I’d say yeh, spiritually, emotionally whatever.
It’s a body part.
My office job lobotomised me,
paying rubbish money to monopolise my brain
and my typing-away fingers.
So what’s the difference?
We use our bodies to make money
to buy our bodies things they like so they feel nice and we survive.
Simple stuff really.
Just choose which bit of your body you don’t mind selling.
They don’t make me feel heavy anymore.
I feel free, light.
I wake up in the morning and the sun slants
through the gap in the curtains
and I’m filled with a certainty that before,
was always a little bit out of grasp.
Anything feels possible. For the first time in my life.
With the right lighting and wifi!
My boyfriend did the photography at first,
but his version of what’s flattering was not mine, let’s put it that way.
I find the light
and I know what suits me, what bit I want to sell, and for how much. Pyjamas and no make-up, that’s my USP,
greasy hair, still chuck a filter on but not too much,
makes them feel like they really know me I guess.
Living here, sometimes I wonder if I’d ever strip off at the beach.
Feet on cold pebbles, shadow of my boobs a mini pavilion.
I doubt I would. I’m still a bit shy, at heart.
Online is a different kind of sex work,
it almost feels like it’s for me, more than for them, the men,
even some of my exes started following me, paying me hundreds a month,
they’re married now, at least they’re not cheating.
I dunno, might just be because we’re in a pandemic
and what else is there to do?
I miss touch.
I mean, generally, who doesn’t right now?
I touch myself, obviously. It’s my job!
Men like to see me get in the bath, make myself come.
They can pay extra for me to say their name when I do.
I have to run it through my mind the whole time
to not get it wrong when the moment arrives!
But I don’t see many people, in real life I mean, we can’t can we?
And me and my boyfriend… don’t touch much anymore.
He works early, I work late.
He feels lucky to be with me. So many men want me.
But sometimes I want to brush his hair away from his face with my fingers, kiss him when he’s not expecting it.
But then I get a message from a customer and well,
I forget.