In this piece, Emma brilliantly reflects the utter confusion involved in selling sex and the mismatch between the hype that “sex work is real work” and the actual reality, and how this confusion sometimes persists even years after exiting prostitution.

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If prostitution was really work…

When I grow up, I want to charge £40 to £100 to a man who is married, has a girlfriend or partner. I want him to convince me I don’t need to use a condom to suck his cock.

When I grow up, I want to reach intellectual, spiritual and beautiful full potential.

When I grow up, I don’t want to internalise misogyny and name it “feminism” convincing me to sexualise my body for profit for men to empty themselves into me, or over me through pornography.

When I grow up, and get a job, called sex work, I want to panic about who is coming through the door. I want to second guess whether he’ll force me to do more than he stated. I want to keep watching to see if he’s slipped off the condom. I want to get tired and sore. I want to hear whining male voices degrade women and wives as they don’t meet their needs. I want to continuously pretend to “like” them. I want to fake an orgasm, day in day out.

When I grow up, I want to worry about revenge porn, as I sold my body for a couple of years on OnlyFans. Now I wish I hadn’t as I want better for my own children, and better for myself. My potential was far greater than laying on my back or riding, or dropping the bar and filming anal, as my “fans” became bored.

When I grow up, I want to pass on herpes as condoms didn’t protect me.

When I grow up, I want to cry every night because I believed I was empowered and it was my right to sell my body.

When I grow up…

When I grow up, this will be on my CV, when I apply for my next job.

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