Why I'm scared to write
The real reason I have “writer’s block” and been silent: It’s not a block, it’s my own fears (and maybe my own shame under the fear) that stop me, so I’m here to address the pink elephant in the room to unblock this mind fuckery. And by room, I mean the internet and social media where you search or stalk your old high school bullies and crushes and judge their lives vs your own. I’ve taken a step back into the closet by changing the name of my Substack (yet again), censoring my name on all my posts and my ‘civilian’ career to try to separate myself. I’m learning that it is hard to put the toothpaste back in the tube, the tube being the hiding place where you can’t be searched and found on the internet. I find it funny and ironic that my Substack is still stuck on me like annoying static cling in searches under my civilian career name, yet when I pay hundreds of dollars to Google for ad campaigns to be found by clients in said civilian career I get only bots sending me messages. If only there was a popular search term, “_____(my business name and work), over 50, sex work experienced” I would probably come up on page one and working full time in my civilian career I miss so much.
In 2021 I came out of the closet under my civilian name on the internet by linking my name and stories on Substack, changing my superhero sex worker name on my Twitter account and doing my very first podcast interview called Coming Out as a Sex Worker with ________ (my civilian name). It doesn’t get more in-your-face than that. That podcast came up on page one when searching my name and it looked so out of place next to pages and pages of published works my decades long civilian career that’s almost the antithesis of sex work. It was brave and scary as fuck but it felt freeing to have all the pieces of me I’ve kept hidden and apart for the last ten years. I had nothing to lose— no kids, no spouse, no job that could fire me.
Then in May of 2024 I went back into my civilian career. I started by creating my first Instagram account that wasn’t dedicated to sexy pics to get clients or my sex worker rights activism. I had the podcast taken down and pleaded with Google to remove the dead link that still had that podcast headline screaming my name next to ‘Sex Worker’. It’s funny that I resisted all the years making an Instagram account for my civilian career but I put so much time and energy into running all my superhero anonymous accounts. It was nice to take a break from being “civilian me” who was a failure at that point and play a sexy successful superhero. I hadn’t really put the money and time into re-launching my website, going to networking events and advertising. But it didn’t matter, I could see familiar names of people from my past who were either suddenly following me on social media or lurking in my Instagram stories feed. I felt so exposed and scared even though I never was directly threatened; I know it’s all in my mind. In order to free my mind of this fear and shame, I’m going to name and acknowledge them. And if you’re one of those people from my past, note that I may write about you, but I will never directly name names.
Here’s some accounts I recognized that started following me online after I came out
My ex-sister in-law:
Hello T! I’ve always been amazed that you stayed as a follower on my Facebook business after your brother and I broke up. I’ll admit I’ve Googled your kids’ names and it’s wild to see them twenty years later as college grads and starting families of their own! I wonder if you told your brother and the rest of the family what you found out about me? Anyway, I miss everyone. I wish breaking up with someone didn’t mean breaking up with their family. I think about all of you when I’m visiting Boston.
Former client from my civilian career from 24 years ago:
Hi J! You are the only man from my civilian career (hint hint: the groom) who’s ever followed me on social media! And for this long!? I’m flattered and honestly also little freaked out. You and your wife were the subject of an art book I was published in nearly two decades ago and I loved that you both were honored to be part of it. I was scared when you started following me on my new Instagram. I imagined I would receive an angry email stating you and your wife wished you never hired me and were embarrassed to have your names next to my name. Maybe you know about my sex work past but you keep it from your wife? Women can be more judgemental and often have jealousy issues towards other women, especially if they’ve been part of the sex work industry. If you’re stalking my social media in hopes you to see pics of me with some cleavage popping out and not my actual work, I am a little disappointed but also not surprised.
Former guy I casually dated around 1997 for a year:
Hi J! It’s funny that I haven’t completely forgotten about you after all the years. When I heard the town of Durango mentioned in a conversation a few years ago, I remembered you and the stories you shared with me from your adventues in Colorado. Anyhoo, I know for sure you read my Substack and found me after I came out under my civilian name because I first saw your name as a lurker on my anonymous sex worker Instagram account. After I created my civilian Instagram 2024, you started following me there as well. It made me feel so icky to have both facets of me exposed and linked (I don’t even follow myself between my two accounts). I let it go for months but eventually I blocked you, changed the name of the account, made it private and even unlinked my sex worker account from my Substack (which has made me sad). I know, I know, I need to grow a thicker skin and just accept there’s a spotlight on me and stop running from it. I don’t know why it freaks me out when people I know follow me both accounts. I like that my anonymous superhero Instagram is a place I get to be more of myself and not worried I’m offending potential (civilian) clients. I should be flattered you found me after all these years but it mostly freaks me out that my name’s been in your address book since the 90’s and we dated for only a few months from what I can recall. I hope all is well and maybe when I visit Boston again we can get a coffee or something and catch up.
Random DM in my Twitter from a guy that I went on a date with in the late 90’s (I don’t remember your name and I’m no longer active on that platform.)
You were the first person from my past who barged into my inbox, told me how hot I looked and how funny it was running into me on Twitter and by the way, do I remember you? You said we met though the Boston Phoenix (local newspaper) personals section (the Mesozoic age of paper before Match, Tinder and Hinge if you’re under 40 reading this) and we made out at some bar in Jamaica Plain. I don’t remember you, buddy but but I totally believe you. In my horny, lonely and tragically unmarried late 20’s I discovered finding dates and sex through personal ads and threw myself into it like an Olympic sport (I met J, the other 90’s guy from the same newspaper personals.)
Guys, it’s amazing that my name has been sitting in your contacts (or your horndog brain files) for over 25 years because I made such an impression on you and you’ve finally found me, but it’s also creepy.
Escort client I haven’t seen or heard from since 2017:
When I first came out on my Substack I realized you found me as you knew my civilian name. Thank you for the $100 tip on Substack! I saw your email, it looked familiar so I looked through my old work email account and realized it was from you. You were one of my favorite clients (no, really!) and I loved showing you around Portland that weekend, taking you out to see the sites in that Smartcar I rented that felt like driving a lawn mower powered with rubber bands, that was an adventure! What’s funny about the timing of your tip and knowing about your presence is that I had a draft of a story that did involve you and it stopped me from finishing it out of fear that you would recognize yourself. It’s been in my drafts for 3 years and maybe I’ll get to finishing it one of these days. As I said earlier, I don’t name names when I write and I’ll obscure some details to protect other privacy. I hope to not get an angry message saying you recognize yourself in one of my stories or don’t like what I have to say- you can always pay me off to shut me up, but a writer needs more than $100 (which I’m still grateful for, thank you ; )
My former stalkers might be currently following me online but they haven’t made themselves known (and let’s keep it that way- thanks for respecting my boundaries, stalkers!) I also may have colleagues in my civilian career who’ve stumbled across my Substack after searching my name (who the fuck is this old woman who says she has a 27 year long published career but we’ve never heard of and has a new Instagram account?) It’s funny that I care less about that group knowing (whose demographic is almost all women, gay men and a handful of straight dudes who all seem to be DJs.) And extended family? Family doesn’t pay my bills so I really don’t care about the side-eyed stare I got from a cousin at reunion this year. I was talking to a big OnlyFans adult content creator and she said the most horrifying DM she ever received was from a former student when she was a middle school teacher a decade ago. And he addressed her not in her anonymous superhero sex worker name but as her actual married school teacher name, Mrs DeMarco.
FUUUUCK NOOOOOOO!!! I replied to my friend and ducked under a table as if an earthquake were happening in real time. But she went on,
“If you’re on the Internet, eventually people will find you. It doesn’t matter if you hide your face or your name. And if you do porn, you will definitely be found by people you know from your past and they will make themselves known. They may tell you’re cool or hot or you and your kids are going to burn in hell forever. You have to accept the whole world sees you. The recognition and haters used to bother me, but I have so many supportive fans and they’ve made me rich. So focus on the people that support you financially.”
My main fear is gossip and being shut out of a community I’m trying so hard to get back into amongst one of the most competitive fields and markets. That’s really why I had to go back into the closet. Not fear of judgement. Fear of rejection from referrals to get to clients to hire me and pay me. In other words, I fear not making money as I’m not getting wealthy from writing. And I just quit my other civilian job (drudge work but steady income) in early September that I did for 7 years. I just knew I had to quit this year or die doing it in old age or I would look back on my life not taking the artistic chances I should have. Sadly, my civilian career that I was successful in twenty years ago has not welcomed me back with open arms and I haven’t had a break despite trying really hard. I knew this going back into it but I had to take a chance going back as it’s my passion, my identity (when you’re successful at a profession at a young age I think it defines you) and what made me six figures 25 years ago. In the last 12 months I spent over $10,000 to re-ignite my career from traveling to conferences, giving my time and money to work FOR FREE (?!), hiring website designers and SEO experts, ads, marketing, gear (not to mention the 2000 hours I spent mastering Capcut to make stupid short form videos to get more eyeballs that convert to clients and cash which is all bullshit and I hate it.) I have made $327 more on my Substack writing about my life than I have living that life. That is to say, I made negative ten thousand as a _______ and $327 a writer (so thank you readers, stalkers and the horny men I went on dates with in the 90’s, your contributions made difference!) You paid for my yearly Adobe (Photoshop, Lightroom) subscription and maybe a little more to get a rock to hide under.
Or a brighter spotlight to thicken my skin.