When you’re a female sex worker dating a Trans dominatrix it can be hard to find relatable movies.

Let me clarify, when you’re a female sex worker dating a Trans dominatrix it can be hard to find relatable movies which isn’t porn. I came home today and started flicking through Netflix only to find that these specifics were not reflected. Not that this is a criticism – I get it – it’s super niche. I’m not asking for sex workers to get their own Brokeback Mountain film, here. (Although something which doesn’t depict us as a source of either fascination like zoo animals and/or as people which need to be seriously debated as to whether we should have rights.)

However, you learn to find relatability in everything if you’re practiced enough at it. You can appreciate what it feels like to be heart broken or to be embarrassed in front of a lot of people or being super angry at someone who is in the wrong swimming lane. We do it every day, we meet clients and punters that we have absolutely nothing in common with and have to find a way to get them a) on side and/or b) to be interesting and it helps that we have to do this in everyday life as well. The number of times that I’m sat with a group of vanilla girls from work talking about make-up, boys and diets and I have literally nothing to say except that I always liked Greek salad.

I’m not going to have a ‘normal relationship’ that will one day be depicted in an obscure and super expensive perfume ad but I don’t need to be seen as weird because the premise of a relationship is still the same. My relationship is still based on the same things and the same emotions, it just has a few extra trimmings like extra-relationship sex and occasional whippings. It’s not like everyone’s relationships are perfect even if they’re married with 2.5 children with a Tassimo coffee machine on a three piece kitchen counter top set with fridges that look like cupboards so you can confuse and befuddle your guests – it’s still complicated.

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So, before judging me or anyone, try to find the common ground first. Even if it is just a fondness for olives and feta cheese on leaves. If someone’s actions aren’t harming anyone then let them be – free choice is a right.

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