War is over (Merry Christmas)

In the "debate" on sex work in Ireland, it's time for a ceasefire over Christmas. I need to tell you, Irish abolitionists fight dirty, dirtier than I've ever experienced before. Given their background in the Magdalene Laundries, I guess that shouldn't surprise me, but there is no low to which they won't stoop. When they weren't (allegedly) reporting me to the taxman for a full investigation they were putting my details up on Dublin Backpage, posing as clients to fill my diary with false appointments and that's before we talk about hauling me through the mud at Stormont and telling blatant lies to the media about me and my colleagues. Ho hum.

I'm not saying I didn't respond with ferocity, I did. That's because they made a common mistake and mistook a pleasant manner for weakness. As anyone who knows me will tell you, I go into every single debate I do to win. Whether that's an hour long event at a university or an eighteen month campaign in Northern Ireland, I don't do giving up. So if it means a trip to the Supreme Court, or the European Court of Human Rights, so be it.

About the only thing I can't blame abolitionists for this year is smashing up my leg in Belfast, although if I didn't know better, I'd swear they crept in to my room in the dead of night and added a generous coating of vegetable oil to the base of my shower. I hate to be the one to burst their bubble, but I'm back on my feet and still smiling. See to me, Christmas is lovely when you receive gifts and all, I mean who doesn't need lavender soap on a rope ? But more important than that, it's time to take stock and appreciate the real gifts you have. In my case that's a number of people around me who can best be summed up with the phrase - "I've got your back, sweetie."

If I need to rage that's okay, if I need to let off steam that's fine too. If I need to cry my lamps out, there is always a man sized tissue with extra soothing balm ready. There are people I can call and request sanctuary, a DVD and a curry at anywhere else than your hotel room can be medicine indeed. I also have some friends with the most amazing sense of humour, who send me emails which have me braying like a donkey. Most unladylike but therapeutic in the extreme. One such friend has written a letter to Santa, which I've decided to share with you, he's based in Ireland and disabled, so no prizes for guessing the forthcoming tone. It just remains for me to wish you all, a very Merry Christmas with your loved ones. Not you, abolitionists, I hope your turkey is trafficked and contaminated and necessitates a 48 hour stay in your government funded bathroom suite.

LL xx

P.S : If you're stuck for a last minute gift, check out this worthy site. To help those in need, it's far better than soap on a rope.



Dear Santa,

I'm probably wasting my time writing to you, but let me remind you of some of the requests that you didn't deliver last year.

-New Bentley
-Super Model Wife/Girlfriend
-Body Transplant
-Villa in the Bahamas
-Yacht in Monaco.

This year I have only one simple request, I want a visit to Belfast. As you know I'm a vulnerable simpleton cripple and it's my duty to be targeted. There is a dangerous one who goes by the name Laura Lee and she specialises in targeting the likes of me and she visits Belfast. She has what she calls toys, I wouldn't like to tell you what she does with them it would probably kill an old man like you if I told you. Be careful Santa, she is well connected, friends in high places, her BEST Friends are the DUP you know those Lovely Upright Law Abiding God Fearing Political Citizens that look out for everyone, especially women.

Those lovely nuns at Ruhama, they are the ones who told me that she is dangerous, in fact they say she is pure evil. She writes blogs about how she loves to target the likes of me, she bragged on Twatter recently how she had her wicked way with another vulnerable fella in Inverness then she stole all his belongings and ran over his cat. After she had her wicked way with another she made soup and sandwiches for him but the nuns tell me that if you sample her culinary skills that's probably the end of you. They say it's worse than having to eat Kangroo Balls on I'm a Muppet in the Jungle. The poor sod is probably cat and hamster food by now you can't get any more evil than that Santa.

She also makes television about targeting the likes of us vulnerable ones, I've been asked recently by a television station to star in her new show "I'm a cripple get me out of here". In fact the nuns are trying to capture her and put her in a safe house but between you and me I think there's a better chance of them finding a bisexual leprechaun with hen's teeth. They have told me it's just as well that I'm a vulnerable simpleton cripple, that way I don't understand just what she's up to when I'm targeted. She has told me that I'm lovely and then she said the other day that I'm a good one but Santa you know that's just not true. Apparently that's part of her plan to trap me. I think that's the drugs. Those nuns say she only does all this because she and all her mates are junkies.

She told me the first time that we met that just because I'm a vulnerable simpleton cripple, doesn't get me off my duties as a man, and she wouldn't let me leave until I did. She seem to love it and wriggled around smiling and moaning, but I know that's just the badness trying to escape her.

If you ignore this request like last year's, I will have to arrange to borrow a decommissioned surface to air missile and then you will be the one, Mr Clause who will be targeted when you fly over my house on Christmas Eve.

Yours,

Frustrated of Fermanagh

A statement on sex work - Dr. Graham Scambler

This is a blog post from Dr. Graham Scambler, Professor of Sociology at UCL. He has given me his kind permission to replicate it, and I'm sure you'll agree, it's well worth a read. You should also check out his lecture on YouTube, do look it up. It's very encouraging to see the number of academics coming out in favour of sex workers' rights and common sense legislation. Enjoy.

LL xx

Chronology is not everything, especially in the context of the kind of disjointed fragments that comprise this ‘sociological autobiography’. So I am jumping ahead a few years, the rational being that it makes sense to build on my comments on sex work now rather than later. I have published two main papers since the early 1990's. The first was on ‘sex work stigma’ in 2007 in Sociology. This drew on a small interview-based study I conducted with a snowball sample of a dozen escorts who had travelled to London for a defined period (usually 1-3 months) to bank some money. The second was on ‘health work, female sex workers and HIV/AIDS’ in 2008 in Social Science and Medicine. The intention here was to develop a conceptual frame within which barriers to the delivery of health care for sex workers might be better understood. The principal aim on both occasions was to stress the importance of social structures.

The focus in the 2007 paper was on the salience of social structures for processes of stigmatization, and that in the 2008 paper on the role of social structures in fashioning barriers to effective health interventions. In particular, I emphasized the significance of class-based ‘exploitation’ and state or command-based ‘oppression’ in ‘informing’ (without ‘determining’) cultural norms of shame and blame and their policing and access to health and social care.

A further output from these excursions was a typology of sex workers. I distinguished six career ideal types: (a) coerced (e.g. abducted, trafficked), (b) destined (e.g. family or peers in the trade), (c) survivors (e.g. drug users, debtors), (d) workers (e.g. permanent job), (e) opportunists (e.g. project financing), and (f) bohemians (e.g. casual, without need). If I had any aspirations to completeness, these were dashed when a researcher at the University of Hertfordshire, where I was giving a seminar at the invitation of Hilary Thomas, added that some sex workers offer their services exclusively to ‘disabled’ clients; and so they do.

By this time it was something of a mantra of mine that agency and culture are alike structured but not structurally determined.

I also delivered one of the UCL Lunchtime Lectures on the mythology surrounding sex work in the autumn of 2011. This was and is a great concept: the lectures are given by UCL academics but the brief is to make their research intelligible to the wider community, who on the whole comprise the audiences. People turn up with their sandwiches if the title appeals. When I was invited to talk about ‘sex work today’ to mark World AIDS Day however I hesitated. What concerned me was the implication that sex work and HIV/AIDS were intimately connected. In some parts of the world they are – with 80-90% of sex workers HIV-positive – but not in the UK. Anyway, I overcame my qualms and constructed a personal agenda to set records straight.

The lecture is available on YouTube, on the home page of my website and has been debated on Twitter, so I will here offer the most succinct of summaries of the messages I was hoping to convey. Then I move on to address the nature of the fallout from talks and stances like mine (I was going to write ‘ensuing debate’ but it is far more conflictual than that). My principal messages can be represented as follows:

There is a good deal of research on the sex industry in Britain and overseas. For obvious reasons there are no probability samples of sex workers, however, so we must be cautious. Studies allow us to ‘estimate’ that there are around 80,000 sex workers in the UK. In London, the focus of my talk: 30-40% of the sex workers are men (a phenomenon unique to London among UK cities); 80% work indoors; nearly two-thirds were born overseas; the media age of entry to the industry is 24; drug use is lower in indoor than outdoor workers; and there is currently a declining rate of STIs and HIV.

This research provides an evidence-base for policy formation and implementation at global, regional, national and local levels. The kind of data I cited for London are available for other parts of the UK and across the globe. They should inform policy-making much more than they do currently. The wealthy and powerful should not be permitted to swap policy-based evidence for evidence-based policy. But I also bemoaned the lack of comparative studies. If we could compare female sex workers with, say, secretaries, then we might find that just as many of the latter as the former come from broken families and save ourselves from incautious inferences!

The sex industry between and within nations is varied and its workers heterogeneous. The typology cited above is testimony to heterogeneity with the UK and elsewhere; and individual sex workers can and do switch types of work. Moreover, there are ‘visible’ drug-using women who work the streets and give hand jobs for £30, and ‘invisible’ women escorts who charge £1000 for a night’s companionship.

Stereotypes of sex workers are simplistic, replete with errors of commission and omission. As this heterogeneity suggests, media stereotypes of sex workers contain errors of commission and omission. The street worker is the exception rather than the rule; moreover the street worker is as likely to be a brave and subtle improviser as an out-of-control alcoholic.

Two major discourses have come to dominate discussions of the sex industry: (a) the public health discourse, and (b) the sexual trafficking discourse. A lot of the research into sex work that received funding in the mid-to-late 1980's arose out of a concern that sex workers might be vectors of disease, precipitating the spread of HIV into the ‘respectable population’ (presumably via their respectable clients). They found rates of condom use approaching 100%. Like gay men a little earlier, sex workers were quickly onto the risk of HIV. Why would they not be? The principal risk of HIV, studies showed, was to sex workers themselves. While the condom provided a symbolic barrier with clients, it was intolerable with boy- or girlfriends, who not infrequently had multiple sexual partners …

The public health discourse has contributed to our evidence base and has tended to be open and liberal. Lessons were learned and most public health researchers acquired a respect for sex workers and opposed any attempt to (further) criminalize them.

The sexual trafficking discourse has largely ignored our evidence base and has tended to be closed and oppressive.

The weird admix of radical feminists and Christian and allied right-wingers who emphasize ‘sexual trafficking’ come into another category. Of course there are sex workers – the coerced – who are trafficked (e.g. young girls out of Burma to the brothels of Bangkok). And it occurs in the UK too. But it is rare: the Pentameter operations mounted by the police were a dismal failure, and Nick Mays’ ESRC study found that 6% of women had been either ‘deceived’ or ‘forced’ into selling sex. But those who push the sexual trafficking discourse are resistant to data: they would wish the public to believe that any sex workers born overseas and working in the UK have been trafficked. Their prejudice or ‘moral crusade’ is to legislate for the abolition of the industry (a forlorn hope, as we have seen).

That is enough. I end this important, non-chronological digression with an assertion that seems to me self-evident. It is an obnoxious and unacceptable conceit, a form of abuse, to deny sex workers their agency. Agency, like culture, is structured for all of us, but it is never structurally determined.

From the ECP - VICTORY – AMENDMENT TO CRIMINALISE SEX WORKERS’ CLIENTS DEFEATED !

It was a truly fantastic day for sex workers yesterday, as the Swedish model was thrown out in England. It was great to see everyone pulling together and lobbying so hard at such short notice, too. Below is a statement from the ECP with some quotes from John McDonnell MP, I watched his speech and was just amazed at his clarity, his understanding of the issues we face and to be honest, that a politician actually listened, to sex workers. He's my new hero.

LL xx

We won! Our collective mobilisation defeated the amendment to the Modern Slavery Bill put forward by Fiona Mactaggart MP which would have criminalised clients. It dropped without even going to a vote. Another amendment put forward by Yvette Cooper MP, Shadow Home Secretary, calling for a “review of the links between prostitution and human trafficking and sexual exploitation” was put forward as an alternative to Mactaggart’s but that was also defeated.

This is a massive victory for the campaign against the further criminalisation of sex work. Hundreds of people and organisations responded to the call to write to MPs. The briefing in Parliament on Monday night, that we organised at very short notice, drew a good crowd. The impressive line-up of speakers included sex workers speaking about the impact the clause would have on their work, Hampshire Women’s Institute, Women Against Rape, student representatives, academics and union reps, queers and anti-racists opposed to this further discrimination. Questions from the MPs (Tories, Labour and Lib-Dem) elicited a productive and informative discussion.

MP John McDonnell’s contribution to the debate in the Commons today was outstanding – we have been worked closely with him over many years, including on defeating this measure. He made reference to the wide range of opposition, quoting from some of the many briefings and letters people had sent him, and countered the false claims put forward by those promoting criminalisation.

As a result of so many people acting so quickly and so effectively we are now in a stronger position to demand full decriminalisation. We’ll be in touch soon about this. Here is John’s speech.

John McDonnell (Hayes and Harlington) (Lab):
We are really short of time in this debate, so I apologise for taking more, Madam Deputy Speaker. If there are any talent spotters on the Government Front Bench, I think the right hon. Member for Uxbridge and South Ruislip (Sir John Randall) has an excellent role in the other place.

I chair the Public and Commercial Services Union parliamentary group—we are writing to the Gangmasters Licensing Authority about the new clauses in this group—but let me say that we have now gone beyond the stage at which we can continue to will the objectives without willing the means. Adequate staff and resources are needed to ensure that the GLA is effective.

To turn briefly to the new clauses and the amendment tabled in relation to prostitution, I apologise to all Members of the House for inundating them with briefings over the past 48 hours. I am very sorry, but this debate came up in a hurry, and it was important to give people the chance to express their views. I have always respected my Hon. Friend the Member for Slough (Fiona Mactaggart), who is very well intentioned. I support new clause 7 because developing a strategy is critical, and amendment 1, which is the decriminalisation amendment, but I am fundamentally opposed to new clause 6, because it is worrying, counter-productive and dangerous. New clause 22 would give us the opportunity and enough time to undertake a proper review.

I know that sex work is abhorrent for some Members. I must say that in the years since I convened some of the first meetings of the Ipswich Safety First campaign in this House, after five women were killed there, I have met a number of men and women who were not coerced into sex work and do not want their livelihoods to be curtailed by the proposed criminalisation of their clients. It is true that I have met many others who entered prostitution to overcome economic disadvantage—they suffered in poverty to enable them to pay the rent and put food on the table for their children—but that has been made worse by welfare benefit cuts, escalating housing costs and energy bills. The answer is not to criminalise any of their activities, but to tackle the underlying cause by not cutting welfare benefits and ensuring people have an affordable roof over their heads and giving them access to decent, paid employment.

The whole issue has focused on the idea that by stopping the supply of clients, prostitution will somehow disappear, as will all the exploitation, trafficking and violent abuse. The Swedish model has been suggested as an example, but there was absolutely overwhelming opposition to it in the briefings that I have circulated. Those briefings have come from charities such as Scot-Pep—the Scottish Prostitutes Education Project—which is funded by the state; the Royal College of Nursing, the nurses themselves; and the Global Network of Sex Work Projects, which is another Government-funded organisation to get women and others off the game, that nevertheless says that the Swedish model would be counter-productive.

The Home Office has commissioned academic research, and I have circulated a letter from 30 academics from universities around the country that basically says that the proposed legislation is dangerous. We must listen to sex workers: the English Collective of Prostitutes, the Sex Worker Open University, the Harlots collective, the International Committee on the Rights of Sex Workers in Europe—flamboyant names, but they represent sex workers, and all are opposed to the criminalisation of clients.
Michael Connarty:
Could my hon. Friend quote some sources from Sweden? I understand that in Sweden they do not take that view.
John McDonnell:
I will come straight to that point, but let me go through the other organisations we have listened to: lawyers, human rights bodies such as Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International and UN Aid, and even the women’s institute down in Hampshire—I warn hon. Members never to cross the women’s institute anywhere—as well as members of the Ipswich Safety First coalition who dealt with the deaths those years ago.

What is the consensus? It is that there is no evidence that criminalising clients as in the Swedish legislation reduces the number of either clients or sex workers. I could quote at length—time we have not got—from the Swedish Government’s report that demonstrates that there is no correlation between the legislation they introduced and a reduction in numbers of clients or sex workers.
Fiona Mactaggart:
My hon. Friend said that the Swedish Government have no evidence for that, which is true, but they did have evidence that the number of men who pay for sex in Sweden has gone down significantly.
John McDonnell:
That was one survey where men who were asked, “Do you pay for sex, because you could be prosecuted for it?” naturally said no. The evidence has been challenged. The other part of the consensus concerns the argument that other Governments are now acting and following the Swedish model, but South Africa has rejected it, and Scotland rejected it because measures on kerb crawling were introduced. In France, the Senate has rejected that model on the basis that sex workers will be put at risk. There are even threats of legal action in Canada on the issue of the safety and security of sex workers.

The other consensus that has come from these organisations is that not only do such measures not work, they actually cause harm. We know that because we undertook research through the Home Office in 2005-06. What did it say? Sex workers themselves were saying, “It means that we never have time to check out the clients in advance. We are rushed and pushed to the margins of society as a result, which does us harm.”

There are alternatives. I do not recognise the view on the implementation of decriminalisation in New Zealand mentioned by my hon. Friend the Member for Slough, because all the research says that it is working. Who says that we should look at decriminalisation? The World Health Organisation, UN Women and UNAIDS. I circulated a letter from Nigel Richardson, who is not just a lawyer who represents sex workers but also acts as a judge. He says that we can tackle abuse and sexual exploitation with existing laws.

I appeal to the House not to rush to legislate on such a contested issue where there is such conflicting research, evidence and views. New clause 22 would provide a way through as it would enable us to undertake the necessary research, consult, bring forward proposals, and legislate if necessary. I want to include in that consultation the New Zealand model and full decriminalisation. I am not in favour of legalisation; I am in favour of full decriminalisation. On that basis we should listen to those with experience. I convened some meetings with the Safety First coalition to brief Members on what it had done. It invested money in the individuals—£7,000 a prostitute—and it got people out of prostitution by investing money, not by decriminalising them.

Reverend Andrew Dotchin was a founder member of the Safety First coalition. He states:

“I strongly oppose clauses on prostitution in the Modern Slavery Bill, which would make the purchase of sex illegal. Criminalising clients does not stop prostitution, nor does it stop the criminalisation of women. It drives prostitution further underground, making it more dangerous and stigmatising for women.”

I fully support the Reverend Andrew Dotchin in his views.

Press release 19/10/2014

PRESS RELEASE

Tomorrow (Monday 20th October) the Northern Ireland Assembly will vote on the Human Trafficking and Exploitation (Further Provisions and Support for Victims) Bill. Clause 6 will criminalise the purchase of sex, between consenting adults.

This Bill has been put forward by the DUP (Democratic Unionist Party) backed by the fundamentalist religious organisation CARE (Christian Action Research and Education). CARE's solution is to "rescue" sex workers (heavily funded by the government) and lock them away in secure housing in case we become "drug dealers". Is that 'solution' not ringing any bells ? Women’s Aid have also given their wholehearted support to this Bill. Women’s Aid claim to represent ‘women’ but like the nuns in the Magdalene laundries before them they are putting their brutal ideology and financial interest over those of us in the sex industry who choose what we do. Women’s Aid have never engaged with sex workers nor have they shown any inclination to do so. Our views and opinions are aren’t worth a grain of salt to them. Women’s Aid need to remember that it was the issue of ‘choice’ that defined the feminist movement and by aligning with the DUP on this issue they have set the feminist cause in NI back decades. Will Women’s Aid now be joining the DUP to have the Marie Stopes clinic shut down? And this is choice ?

Sinn Féin, the second largest political party recognises that this Bill is flawed insofar as it is based on ideology not evidence and will lead to an increase in risks and dangers to sex workers. But Sinn Féin MLAs haven’t held firm to what they know to be true and are unlikely to oppose it. Thus it will pass.

The Department of Justice published independent research into prostitution in Northern Ireland on Friday 17th October clearly showing that criminalising the purchase of sex will not achieve the stated aims but will harm sex workers. Crucially, this research took the views and opinions of sex workers into account, a first for NI. However, Northern Ireland’s politicians are ignoring the evidence and throwing sex workers under the bus. Will sex workers in NI have to wait decades for an apology just as the Magdalene women did ? Or will that apology for bad law making come after the first murder, or fourth serious assault perhaps ? It remains to be seen, but they cannot for a moment pretend they didn't have the evidence available to do right by an already marginalised and stigmatised group. Sex workers will suffer, and it could have been prevented by the courageous actions of a few. Instead we have been let down by the cowardice of many.

Laura Lee
Sex Workers' Rights Activist

Every. Fecking. Time.

"The Good Lord only gives you that which he thinks you can bear; no more, no less. Further, every trial and tribulation is sent to teach you a lesson about yourself - resilience, strength, patience, tolerance, or in your case how feckin' dim you've been to get yourself into that situation in the first place."

Those wise words of my Nan still make me smile and have never been more apt than the last six months, which have been a test of gigantic proportions. So much so that I've developed a theory. In the same way that psychopaths lack empathy, I believe that my psyche is lacking that element which says, "That's it, I'm off."

Let's start with the appearance I did at the Northern Irish Assembly in which I was told that I'm financed by pimps and target vulnerable disabled men for my own benefit. Further, I was told that a Justice Committee "do not need evidence." Lovely. That didn't actually get to me until I boarded the boat home that evening and it began to sink in. That any human being in a position of trust and responsibility could be so unprofessional and downright rude, all whilst maintaining an air of sanctimonious righteousness is astounding. What was even more perplexing was when my complaint about that behaviour was cast to one side.

I was home a matter of weeks when having had my real name revealed to the abolitionists present on the day of my NIA appearance, COMPLETELY by coincidence, I had a letter from HMRC to say they had singled me out for a tax inspection. (This is the price you pay as an activist, it's seen as just punishment for daring to question the lies and seemingly unquestionable bottomless funding that the abolitionist NGO's enjoy.) I have nothing to hide, and have years of accountant prepared reports, but even so, spending my evenings going back over every strawberry flavoured condom purchased is something I could have done without.

Finally, and after many months of arguing, I satisfied the requirements of HMRC and was given the all clear. Next up, exams. I became feral for several weeks, and surviving on a diet of Diet Coke and crunchy nut cornflakes I locked myself in to my office and crammed. I'm really not sure how I did, nowhere near as good as if I had really studied to the best of my ability but then when you're holding off HMRC and abolitionists, there's only so much you can do. Finally through the exams and back on the road to enjoy a summer of freedom from any major stresses, I landed back in Belfast.

Day one was grand, enjoyable appointments and good craic. Day two started off like any other working day, sprinting down the stairs at the very last minute for breakfast before hitting the shower in preparation for a busy day. Having carefully laid out my towel, coconut body butter, razor and shower gel, I stepped in to the shower. I'm not sure if you've ever seen those injuries sustained by footballers where their knee goes in completely the wrong direction, but in a nutshell, I did that in conjunction with the splits. Feel free to wince, it goes one eighth of the way towards the guttural screams which emanated from my hotel room.

It's funny what goes through your mind when you've had a bad shock. I was naked, wet and in a crumpled heap at the bottom of a shower cubicle and I knew that my right leg was badly injured and wouldn't take my weight. So I crawled, out of the bathroom and pulled myself up on to the bed where I dried off and got some clothes on. What next ? "Well", I reasoned, "I'm going to be in feckin' A & E all day so I might as well have a ciggy". Yes, that's right, with a leg which was starting to resemble that of an elephant and turning fantastic colours, I hopped over to the other side of the room and hung out the window. By now the shock was beginning to wear off and pain was setting in so I called for help, and David (one of my lovely guys from Belfast), came to my rescue. He picked me up and brought me to A & E and waited with me all day while they did tests, x-rays, and that loud hissing noise through the teeth, usually reserved for mechanics about to hand you a monster bill. End tally = ankle broken in two places, dislocated knee and assorted torn tendons. Full house.

Aside from the fact that I was now facing six weeks off work with no income and probably lots of pain, I was also wondering how the hell I was going to get to Glastonbury. Y'see, I'd been asked if I could go quite some time previously, so what followed was a very animated "discussion" with the hospital consultant. Really, I could have saved us both a lot of time by introducing him to anyone who knows me well, I was going and that was final. Go I did, and it was fantastic, until my motability scooter got bogged down in the mud and I had to be towed out by four burly security men. (In fairness, I've been ably assisted by security men towards the exit in the past, but this wasn't my fault and was particularly mortifying.)

A product of 1950's Catholic Ireland, my Dad doesn't do "I love you". He did say it once but that was after sustained familial pressure when I was emigrating to the US. (I was back ten days later, but that's a story for a whole other time.) No, the best you get from Dad is as follows -

"I'll give you one thing. Life knocks you back but by God, you get up. Every. Fecking. Time."

LL xx

P.S : I'd like to thank everyone who has supported me when I've been unable to work, including Jewel of Edinburgh, Lucy Smith of Ugly Mugs, David (as mentioned above) and the very many others. It means more to me than you'll ever know. Three more weeks and I'm back on my feet.

Northern Ireland, we need you !

As you know, the debate on the implementation of the Swedish model in Northern Ireland has been heating up and is expected to conclude in the autumn. It has been a long and drawn out battle, but the passion and resilience of a number of people have kept the abolitionists on their toes, in spite of a very heavily funded campaign built on proven lies. Now it's your turn. Justice Minister Ford has called for evidence around the sex industry in NI, because he wants to be informed of the facts, which is very admirable. Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of research which can be called upon to give him, so a new study has been commissioned and is well under way.

What is crucially important about this study is that it is impartial, factual and accurate. The researchers are respected academics and want to hear from anyone who has ever bought or sold sex in Northern Ireland. They want to meet and discuss your experiences whether those were good, bad or indifferent because it's important that a true cross section is sampled. Your anonymity is guaranteed and your opinion matters, so please consider the invite below and have your voice heard. It is apathy and silence which have historically allowed crippling laws to be passed, causing real harm to sex workers and indeed those around us. Let silence no longer be the biggest ally to those abolitionists who would do us harm.

LL xx

STUDY ON PROSTITUTION IN NORTHERN IRELAND

What is this about?

We are doing research on the sex industry in Northern Ireland. The project was commissioned by the Department of Justice and aims to provide a detailed understanding of the sex industry (i.e. who sells which services where and why, and to whom). The findings from the may be used to inform policy and debate within Northern Ireland.

How can you help?

We are looking for people to interview – both people who sell and who buy sex. All interviews are anonymous and confidential. We don’t need to know your real name. If we use quotes or information from the interview in the report we will write, they will be anonymized so that that your are not identified.

Who are we?

We are a team of researchers based at Queen’s University Belfast and at the National University of Ireland in Galway. Most of the interviews will be undertaken by Susann Huschke. If you would prefer to be interviewed by a male researcher, this can be arranged.

What’s in it for you?

You will not be paid to participate in this research project. The interviews are important in terms of informing debate and giving voice to those who sell and pay for sex. This is an opportunity for you to have your voice, experience and issues heard. You are free to not answer questions that make you uncomfortable, and to withdraw from the study at any stage (we will then not use the interview in any material that we produce).

Are there other ways of participating?

At a later stage, we will also be doing a survey which can be filled out online anonymously. Both the interviews and the survey are essential and important parts of the study, if you are interested in taking part in one or the other, or both, or if you have any further questions, please contact me via email:

Dr Susann Huschke
Queen’s University Belfast
Email: sexwork.research.NI@gmail.com
Phone: +44(0) 28 9097 5155

The SURVEY FOR CLIENTS (people who pay for sexual services) is available in English here:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/SexworkResearch_ClientSurvey

The SURVEY FOR SEX WORKERS/ESCORTS is available in English and 9 other languages here:

English: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/Research_SexWork_English
Bulgarian/ български: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/Izsledvane_Prostitucija_Balgarski
French/français: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/Recherche_Prostitution_Francais
Italian/italiano: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/Ricerca_Prostituzione_Italiano
Polish/polski: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/Badanie_Prostytucja_Polski
Portuguese/português: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/Pesquisa_Prostituicao_Portugues
Romanian/românesc: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/Cercetare_Prostitutie_Roman
Russian/ ру́сский: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/Issledovanie_Prostitucija_Russkij
Spanish/español: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/Investigacion_Prostitucion_Espanol

A level playing field

When I became a sex workers' rights campaigner, I knew that when I stuck my head above the parapet there would be consequences. I knew there would be mockery, name calling etc. but that's okay with me. I'm a very strong woman, and when I'm let off the leash I'm fierce too, especially when it comes to the rights of our so often stigmatised group.

I was ready for it all, and boy did I get it in spades. In particular, the Irish abolitionists have been hard work, and they fight dirty. I'll never prove it was them of course, but I now find myself in the middle of a tax investigation which I could really do without on top of studying, working, parenting and campaigning. I'll get through it in time, it's just tedious.

In Ireland, to have a current sex worker prepared to go on camera and talk openly about the realities of the sex trade is as rare as hen's teeth and it is a valuable media platform which must not be wasted, not for a second. By waste, I mean that nothing should stand in my way of getting the most important message across which is that my twenty years of experience are absolutely nothing like what Rachel Moran and The Magdalene Sisters (Ruhama) have been peddling, in order to continue with the sales of her book and of course their continued funding.

In her evidence to the NIA, Moran was asked to comment on my evidence as a woman who said she enjoyed the sex trade, and her response was a lofty - "We call them the pimp's union." In addition, Jim Wells and Co. alleged that I'm funded by pimps and am effectively a front for pimps, all of which is absolutely untrue.

I came to the conclusion that in order to be an effective spokesperson for sex workers, I need to stand on my own two feet and speak from my life experience without abolitionists screaming - "PIMP LOBBY", every time I open my mouth. You see, I don't mind if they shout and bawl at me, truth be known I enjoy a robust "debate". But when a constant stream of hate is propelled my way because of the actions of others, that's not fair. And since I appeared at the NIA it has been absolutely vile, with comments about my daughter "coming of age" and one man who speculated whether I had a special uncle who liked to play games in the wendy house with me - I wish I was joking. This, (he said) is the only reason he could see why I "hang out with pimps".

That was the last straw.

For those reasons I have decided to step back from the IUSW, my health and welfare and that of my daughter come before anything else. Always have, and always will. Rest assured, I'm not going anywhere, I will campaign for sex workers' rights until the day they put a tag on my toe (wonderful expression). In fact, later this month it looks like I'm off to Westminster and of course the Labour Party Women's Conference is coming up too.

All I ever needed was a level playing field, because justice and truth have always been on my side.

LL xx

The final countdown

Rhoda Grant wrote a final hour article for the NewStatesman in which she seeks to undermine our position as sex workers entitled to defend our industry with facts and common sense. The link to the article is here.

It's nine days until we discover whether Ms. Grant has secured the required cross party support to bring her bill forward, criminalizing the purchase of sex in Scotland. At the time of writing, that support isn't in evidence.

The article claims that none of our current laws 'protect those who are prostituted' - but rape is an offence, as is assault and many forms of harassment. Human trafficking is also already covered by statute, although I support the proposal to implement a new law re 'aggravated trafficking'. So the laws to protect us are already in place.

As sex workers on the front line, Ms. Grant has steadfastly ignored us from the outset. We have presented statistics, personal testimony and evidence from around the world as to the damage the Swedish model would do and we have simply been told either that we are not representative or that she is in possession of (seriously flawed) evidence to suggest otherwise.

There is a further suggestion that all reports indicate that abuse is rampant within the industry. I would like to see some evidence to support such a sweeping statement. How odd, that when I have twenty years experience right through the industry that I have never encountered 'rampant abuse'. Neither have my very many colleagues. Later on, Grant herself calls for evidence to 'demonstrate that they (clients) are reporting instances of trafficking in great numbers'.

In order for there to be evidence of trafficking in great numbers, there needs to be trafficking in great numbers. There isn't, it's really that simple. Not quite what Abolition Scotland would have you believe when they rolled out the 'Nefarious' roadshow, each screening of which I believe told attendees of greatly exaggerated trafficking figures and urged them to write in support of this bill.

New Zealand (we are told) exists in a very different context to us and their immigration polices help to ensure that people who enter the country are protected through a buddy scheme. I'm not quite sure what different 'context' New Zealand enjoys, but we have a buddy scheme in the UK too, designed specifically for sex workers to look out for each other. Here's a link to the site for reference.

Having regard to the suggestion that Grant's proposed legislation is not flying in the face of worldwide recommendations, I quote Wendy Lyon - "Rhoda Grant is quite wrong to suggest that UN groups have only come out against criminalisation of sex workers, not of their clients. A 2012 joint report by UNAIDS, UNDP and UNFPA very explicitly opposed the criminalisation of clients and endorsed the New Zealand/New South Wales decriminalisation approach. The UN Special Rapporteur on the Right to Health, Anand Grover, has also stated that removing criminal penalties against clients makes it easier to promote responsible client sexual behaviour."

Finally, to allege that those of us who speak up for our industry do so just because we are 'pimps' is as nonsensical as it is uncalled for. Grant is only too aware that several of us openly advertise as independent escorts.

One commentator sums up the discourse around this proposed legislation beautifully -
"Sex workers know more about the industry than anyone else....Why can't you grasp that simple fact?"

LL

Masturbation and Media

As achievements go, masturbating myself into my local A & E has never really been up there on my 'top ten to do before I die', but achieve it I did. Y'see, recently it was my birthday and ever the kind soul that he is, one of my long standing clients in Belfast asked me what I would like. No contest, I asked for a Hitachi magic wand. For those of you not familiar with said device, in terms of stimulating a woman, it gets you from nought to sixty before you can say 'HEADS' - on the break during Coronation Street.

Eager as I was to try my new toy, I rushed back to my hotel room and sure enough, found that euphoria in record time. There was just one small problem, I developed a very bad headache, to the point where I thought it might be a migraine, although I've never had one of those in my life. So I darkened the room and lay down and in time it passed. Fast forward some two weeks and I'm demonstrating the benefits of a wand to a bemused client in his hotel room, rather like a late night shopping channel, naked.

With the rush of fluids and moans and all things gorgeous which go to prove that the good lord did indeed intend us to have sex ad infinitum - came the worst headache I have ever had in my life. It was at the back of my head and was pulsating, literally taking my breath away. What to do ?

As it happened I had a routine appointment with my GP several days later and gingerly raised the issue. She said she was going to consult with her colleagues and call me back, and in the meantime I was to find something to keep me amused 'above the waist', as she delicately put it. So, I threw my case into the boot of my car and hit the road for Inverness, as had been the plan. Having just reached the bottom of the A9, the phone went and it was my GP.

"Can you get to A & E as soon as possible please ?"

"Sure, I'll be back from Inverness on Thursd ...."

"No, NOW."

And so it was that I found myself flat on my back for five days, whilst they ran test after test to ensure I hadn't ruptured something or was in danger of doing so. The first day or two were great, and the novelty of having a television and a bed all to myself without -

1. 'MOM'.
2. 'MEOW'.
3. 'FIFTEEN MINUTE QUICKIES LOVE?'

...was delicious. In time though, I got so bored, I thought they were going to have to transfer me to the psych ward. Finally, on day number five, the most goddamn beautiful doctor I have ever seen in my life came to see me. I was good to go, he explained, but my stress levels were through the roof and that's what was most likely contributing to the headaches, chest pains, racing heartbeat and insomnia. (I know, I know.) Rather predictably, I phoned my Dad.

"Hola Padre, I have seen the error of my ways and am coming home. I plan on checking myself into a convent where I shall self flagellate for the rest of my pitiful existence."

"Hilarious. See you on Saturday".

So we sat, my father and I for some considerable length of time and deep into the night in his garden, chewing the fat and contemplating what needs to change. I know that ideally he'd like me to go and work in an animal sanctuary for the rest of my life, but for the moment, that's not going to happen. Nope, I'm going to have some fun.

I'm taking June until October off study completely, although I had originally planned on doubling up on modules. I'm going to let my hair down and I'm going to chill-the-feck-out. So, for those of you wondering why I have suddenly organised a group session in Glasgow, it's because I want to, it's something I thoroughly enjoy and if it goes well I will do it again.

Before I sign off, let me just say a HUGE thank you to everyone who phoned, texted and emailed after Sex on Wheels. I have no regrets about doing it at all, I think it's an important issue which needs to be addressed and I will continue to campaign as hard as I can. The only regret I have is when they filmed me speaking to a potential client on the phone and saying - 'I'm closely trimmed'. I'm sorry, but that information is not required to be known by the disco mummies, my neighbours and very definitely not my Dad. Memo to self - in future when the camera is rolling - astound everyone by simply SHUTTING UP.

LL xx

P.S : My availability diary is now done until the end of July, although subject to change. I will be in both Leeds and Bristol so do drop me an email. 'Tis about time I ventured South to see what all the fuss is about.

All clients great and small

If there's one thing which maddens me beyond all reason, it's the portrayal of clients/punters/call them what you will in the media. With the proposed introduction of the Swedish model, never before has it been more evident that those in 'power' really don't have a clue about the realities of our client base. Truly, I am sick to death of hearing my clients described as little more than lust filled animals with all the sensibilities of a zombie.

Just as sex workers are individual human beings, so too are our clients. Speaking for myself, I have an extremely diverse client base, it's really impossible to bracket them into one group, because they come from all walks of life, backgrounds, beliefs, ethnicities. I don't ask a lot of my guys, just that they treat me with respect and that they meet my standards of discretion and hygiene. After that, they can worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster for all I care, once they don't think they're going to convert me to Pastafarianism.

Over and over again, I hear in debates that we need to stop those men, those who 'feed the industry' with their demands, using coercion and force to get what they want. We really need to step back from the stereotype of a dirty old man in a mac looking around him furtively as he negotiates a price with a girl on a street corner.

Here are some client profiles -

1. He got married at 20, he's now 50. He adores his wife, who's given him three beautiful children and would do anything for her. They haven't had sex for five years now, because she's developed MS. For those five years, he has battled with his conscience. He can't have an affair because well, that involves feelings and people will get hurt, but he can't deny the physical needs he has.

2. As a young man, he left a job in the city to care for his father full time. He gets four hours reprieve a week when a carer paid for by the state comes in, and he uses this time to visit a local escort, where they open a bottle of wine and share a bubble bath together. It is this time which he treasures.

3. He got married young and it quickly became apparent that the marriage was wrong. There is violence in the marital home, she regularly assaults him, but because he has now become a public figure he can never report that, much less leave her. Provided he keeps her credit card topped up, she turns a blind eye when he books into a hotel one night a month and hires an escort.

4. As a teenager he was reckless and fell in with the wrong crowd. He began 'joy riding' which culminated in a horrific smash. Since then, he has been confined to a wheelchair and has no sensation from the waist down. He feels his injuries are God's way of punishing him for his behaviour and he frequently sinks into long bouts of black depression, even contemplating ending his life. What keeps him going is the periodic visits he gets from a sex worker, when he enjoys a sensual massage.

5. As a young boy, he was repeatedly and savagely raped by a close family member. He has serious issues with body dysmorphia and self esteem as a result. He wants to learn to enjoy sex as an act of love and tenderness, so that he can disassociate it from violence and terror.

The above examples are real clients, my clients. Are these the men we need to criminalise ? No. The men we need to (further) criminalise are the traffickers, those who trade in misery and suffering. Leave the men who are already dealing with their own misery and suffering alone.

LL xx

Activism and Angst

No-one has ever yet written "The Guide to Perfect Parenting", in principal because the perfect parent doesn't exist. Babies don't come with a Haynes manual which tells you what to do in the event of an unplanned exhaust leak which escapes the utilised protection and slowly makes it's way down the legs of your trolley and onto the floor of Asda. Or what to do when they work themselves up into such a state of temper that they bang their heads in tune to the over priced soothing baby lullaby CD you just purchased. There's no trouble shooting flow chart or help desk. Instinctively, you just know, and with that knowledge comes a solution, tailor made to every diazepam inducing incident.

But while we can all meet once a week and bitch (sorry, empathise) over coffee about our little darlings and their latest attempts to have us sectioned, in my experience it's the same subjects which arise for discussion over and over, 'Is my child showing the first signs of psychosis ?', or 'Why do they behave for every other fecker but me ?' One subject very worthy of discussion has yet to come up in our group, and it is simply this - how to instil a sense of social justice in your child. Of course, they will form their own core values and belief system, but children can very quickly become a product of their environment.

A long time ago and in an Irish kitchen far away, my Dad was preparing a carcass, when I swept in the door from school.

"Hi Dad, what's for dinner ?"

"Oh, this is just an auld mutt I found on the road, hit by a car, so I thought - waste not, want not".

I was speechless with anger, after all, our house had become known as the de facto shelter for every waif and stray. Flaring my nostrils as I do when I'm very cross indeed, I loudly declared -

"RIGHT. THAT'S IT. I AM NOT EATING ANY MORE MEAT IN THIS HOUSE UNTIL SUCH TIME AS THE ATTITUDE OF THIS FAMILY HAS CHANGED TOWARDS THE WELFARE OF ERM ... DEAD ANIMALS."

To this day I don't know how my father kept a straight face, in any event, my 'protest' lasted until the following Saturday morning when our traditional fry up was filling those flared nostrils of mine with aromas so beautiful I could stand it no longer. I slouched into the kitchen and announced - "Sure the pig won't mind anyway, he's in heaven".

Fast forward some twenty years and suddenly it befalls me to combat those highly enjoyable convivial jousts as they arise. It started one balmy evening as LP and I were watching television and some horrifying footage of starving children in Africa was being shown. Studying her little face, the wheels of cognition could almost be observed, spinning furiously.

"MAM".

"Yes sweetpea ?"

"Sure that baby doesn't have any food ?"

"No love, none."

"No juice either ?"

"No, no juice either."

"No blankies ?"

"No sweetie, nothing."

She thought about this state of affairs, long and hard before her face lit up with all the excitement of a ground breaking solution to world hunger.

"Well then her mammy should have gone to Tesco's, shouldn't she ?"

Clearly, there was a lot of work to be done. In mitigation, she was very young then and has since grown to grasp the basics, such as - the oppression of minority groups is never acceptable. She even gets the concept that one person's moral code should never dictate the sexual freedoms of a society, whether those freedoms are exercised in a commercial sense or in the privacy of one's bedroom. Quite impressive for a twelve year old really.

Less impressive was this evening's display of pre-teen plumage. I had not long returned from a long day at a photo shoot and I was tired and cranky. On entering the kitchen, there stood a triumphant boy cat, licking his chops having just enjoyed the last remaining scraps of ice cream, as offered to him in a cereal bowl.

"For Christ's sake, can we not share the crockery with the animals ? Especially when he spends the vast majority of his day with his tongue between his thighs ?"

"SHAME ON YOU. CATS HAVE RIGHTS TOO."

Yep, it's going to be a long week.

LL xx

The Sessions

This weekend sees the launch of The Sessions, a film which is creating quite a stir in the media. Starring Helen Hunt and John Hawkes, The Sessions explores the relationship between a late thirties virginal man and a professional sex surrogate. Sex with the disabled is surely one of the last remaining cinematic taboos. Indeed, this week has seen some fierce debates take place on This Morning and The Jeremy Vine Show amongst others. There are many with an opinion as to whether offering sexual services to the disabled is a 'good' thing - that they don't actually have any experience of their subject matter is as usual, no deterrent to arm chair critics.

Let's begin by exploring what I mean by 'disabled', that you may fully appreciate the challenges it can bring to a sex worker. In terms of physical disability, I meet clients who are amputees, wheelchair users, those who have had a stroke, varying levels of paralysis, not to mention the mind boggling range of machinery that can sometimes accompany those conditions. In my own journey as a sex worker, I have learned how to roll a client across a bed, how to use a hoist, how to help them in and out of a bath and of course what to do if it all goes wrong, in terms of first aid.

When I'm working with the physically disabled, it is absolutely key to treat my client in exactly the same way as I would the able bodied. That means, loudly remonstrating with them as to the state of their bedroom, remarking on their Kermit the frog boxer shorts and being completely matter of fact should an 'accident' happen (I won't go into further detail on that except to say that as a mother, colostomy bags don't even touch the sides of 'no way').

The second challenge is what I refer to as the 'Bedroom Krypton Factor', by which I mean that the rules of engagement may be somewhat hampered by my client's mobility or positioning, but there is always a way. Truly, you haven't lived until you've had to balance yourself by holding on to a hoist hook, whilst dressed as a nurse and in killer heels, it's quite an experience.

In terms of mental disabilities, the two main categories I meet are Autism and Asperger syndrome. As lifelong developmental conditions, the main issues that can and do arise are communication, interaction and anger. It is very difficult to have a conversation with a person who constantly interrupts or shouts, simply because they don't appreciate the parameters of socially acceptable behaviour. Similarly, it is hugely frustrating when a 'rage' develops, based on a misapprehension. I liken it to the situation when as a child, you are standing in the kitchen and your mother is shrieking at you - "I know you stole those sweets, you might as well admit it". You know you didn't do it, but she is beyond listening to reason and is in a dark rage. You offer evidence to show her that she's wrong, in the fervent hope that she'll suddenly relax and apologise profusely, but that doesn't happen. In the end, you end up in floods of tears, born out of sheer frustration, because nothing you can do is going to change the outcome.

The key skill here is to find a calm strength, to look the client in the eye and say - "I need you to step back from me, and when you are ready to have a rational discussion on the matter we will go from there. In the meantime I want you to think about how long you've known me and whether you think I could really be that person". Yes, it's hard, but I wouldn't change it for the world. Here's why.

I have a client who is confined to his torso, neck and head. His limbs are redundant and so in the beginning, our relationship was challenging because of his physical limitations but also because of the huge anger he had festering inside, at the bloody unfairness of it all. All of his friends were playing football and falling out of bars at the weekend, whilst he was confined to bed with a television and a laptop for company. For life.

It took approximately four sessions before we found the golden fleece, and when ever I think of that day I still get misty eyed. The look on his face was one of true gratitude and love, not the romantic starry eyed stuff but real love. When two people have a moment where they truly connect, that love. With tears streaming down his face, he snuggled me into his chest and whispered 'thank you', before gently kissing my forehead.

That's why I do what I do. The warm glow I felt that day spread from my very core, and I was still beaming several hours later.

Judge ye not, able bodied bigots, here is a quote from The Sessions. Father Brendan - "I have a feeling that God is going to give you a free pass on this one. Go for it."


LL xx

Nefarious - A sex worker's review

Sub titled the "Merchant of Souls", Nefarious is a documentary currently being screened by Abolition Scotland. I went to a viewing in a church in Johnstone. My companion and I immediately aroused suspicion and the lovely lady who was hosting the evening asked who we were and where we were from. Whilst my friend answered her questions, I fumbled around in my bag and finally fished out my glasses and notebook, perhaps they thought I was a reporter. I've become quite accustomed to sitting in a room full of abolitionists and holding my own but there was no necessity for that here, because this was a very different environment. This was a group of truly lovely people, devoutly spiritual and all ready to be exposed to the 'truths' of trafficking.

The film opened with a look at Moldova, which is reportedly at the heart of trafficking. Here, we were told, 10% of the country have been trafficked. There was no mention of an overall population figure or the industries attached to that percentage, be they domestic servitude, factory work or the sex industry. The figure of 10% was offered as a bald fact.

The next segment was entitled - 'The Breaking Rooms'. Having answered advertisements for offers of jobs abroad or having been simply snatched from the streets, it is here that the young girls are repeatedly raped and beaten until they comply with their handler's orders. Their treatment was horrific and the psychological torture that they endured was heart breaking. One statement stuck with me from that segment, that once some of these girls are sourced from an orphanage, they fall into 'a vortex' and are not missed. Why not ? Can you imagine if a child was snatched from an orphanage in the UK ? There would be a nationwide search and no stone left unturned until she was found.

The film moved on to Cambodia to look at the child sex trade and there is no other description for it, it was stomach turning. Here, we were told, there is a flourishing industry in the sale of a daughter to the sex trade. There was a horrific image of a seven year old girl's pyjamas, badly blood stained around the groin where she had been raped by a 'punter'. As a mother, that made me cry. I couldn't help but think of my own daughter when we saw images of very young girls wearing next to nothing and reluctantly flirting with punters. I wanted to scoop every one of those little girls up and just get them the hell out of there, to where they could be children again. And safe.

Then came the statistics. 80 to 90% of parents in Cambodia sell their daughters to the sex trade. Often,(we were told) it's not to provide for food or other such necessities but luxuries, such as mobile phones and televisions. Indeed, in some cases, the women celebrate when they give birth to a girl because they know that as soon as she becomes in any way exploitable she will be their ticket to a new life of prosperity. What a disgusting conjecture to make.

As a mother myself, I object to the unfounded hypothesis that the majority of an entire race will see a baby girl as a meal ticket. Mothers will fight to the death for their children and would offer themselves in a heartbeat to save them, that's reality. Of course there are exceptions to that rule but to broadly proclaim a figure of 80 - 90% where there is no real basis or evidence to substantiate that is misleading and counter factual.

Throughout the screening Melissa Farley was interviewed. Since Farley's evidence has been treated as biased and questionable by a court of law, and not forgetting the complaint to the APA, then I disregard any of her assertions.

At the end of the screening, a member of Abolition Scotland stood on the altar of the church to address our group. This was the moment I had been waiting for. They thanked us for coming, asked for donations and sold some DVD's and then began to speak in favour of Rhoda Grant's proposal to criminalise the purchase of sex. The film we had just been shown, (they said) is just the tip of the iceberg. Trafficking is RIFE in Scotland too. Why only in 2006 did a police report make mention of 6,000 people trafficked into Scotland, with approximately 90% of those destined for the sex industry.

Mathematics was never my strong point but I'm pretty sure Abolition Scotland just claimed that in 2006, there were 5,400 prostitutes trafficked into Scotland. Isn't it simply amazing then that last year we had one conviction ? ONE.

Needless to say I'm going to request a copy of that 'police report' and debunk the statistics they are using for myself, because that's a MUST do.

Of all the memories which will stay with me from that evening, one of the most potent was the woman behind me who was visibly moved. She was going to write to Rhoda Grant, she said, because THAT level of trafficking in Scotland is simply not acceptable. It took all of my self control to resist initiating a friendly debate based on fact, but I believe that it is far better to write about the truth and inform many than to channel my energy into challenging one.

LL xx

Topiaries and Tom Cruise

Thusfar, November has been stressful beyond belief. In fact, when I recently met Rhoda Grant at Holyrood, I told her that I will be a size ten by Christmas and it's all her fault. How we laughed.

Meanwhile, at Activism HQ, we've had moments of nothingness, by which I mean, November and December are just so full on that we wondered what on earth we will campaign about come the new year. Fear not, for I have a solution.

Mandatory conscription for sixteen year old males to a two week intensive training piece on kissing. Preferably, this would be held in the dark, but I'm sure that idea would be contrary to some Human Rights Convention or another, initiated by some well meaning train spotter called Colin.

This rather unique and brilliant idea was born out of my time on Facebook yesterday, when I noticed several friends vying for the title of most notable Movember 'tache. I know I'm an escort, but were I to sponsor them all I would have to resort to shop lifting cat litter again, not a prospect I relish to be honest.

It got me thinking about the whole Magnum PI era. Remember THAT moustache ? It was iconic, it was part of his character and it was even 'cool', but I bet his make up people didn't have to kiss him. See I don't mind moustaches or beards per se, they can even be sexy. Where it becomes problematic is where the length of such facial topiaries mean I will be eternally grateful for the emergency tonsillectomy I had as a child.

The crux of the matter is this, kissing is rather like any other form of oral gratification, it needs to be built up slowly, y'all. I make no secret of my love of cheesecake but to woff it down in one would be gluttonous and anyway, the taste needs to be savoured, treasured even.

So I object, yes I said OBJECT to anyone who thinks that as a prerequisite to making the beast with two backs they can explore my larynx and expect me not to gag, (I gave up fake moaning years ago). Don't do that, dude. Softly softly catchy girly, or words to a similar effect anyway.

All of the above has been brought on by an event last night which will scar me for life. One of my friends sent me as message as follows - "Remember that day when we bunked off school and watched THAT scene from Top Gun over and over ? We rewound that Betamax tape until there was smoke coming from the machine just so we could see Tom Cruise making love in silhouette ? Well I've found the scene on You-Tube."

I was so excited I could barely contain myself, indeed boy cat dived for cover. But what I witnessed resulted in slack jawed horror. He does the tongue thing, BEFORE they've even hit the bed. UNFORGIVABLE. I thought my respect for Tom Cruise had diminished beyond any and all conceivable repair following *that* incident on Oprah's sofa, but no. I'm done with him now. And November.

LL xx

Faux Feminism

The recent suicide of Amanda Todd got me thinking. From where I'm sitting, there are two schools of thought. One is that she was a young girl who made a stupid mistake on a social networking site by exposing her breasts. One picture ended up doing the rounds of various social platforms and in the end, she could stand the bullying no longer and in spite of having changed schools, she gave up and ended her life.

The second school of thought suggests that she recorded multiple videos involving masturbation, which she distributed through BlogTV whilst persuading a thirteen year old boy to cheat on his girlfriend. Amanda Todd has been compared with Paris Hilton, hence the picture above. "Why does everyone pick on Paris, she does such great work for charity and she only did one sex tape".

Give me a break.

Let's get this into perspective here. Paris Hilton is an attention seeking 'celebrity' who spends Daddy's money and gets to go to lots of red carpet events to exchange air kisses with other beautiful people who have also had sex tapes leaked (cough) and feel her 'pain'. Amanda Todd was a young school girl who was physically assaulted and dumped in a ditch. She drank bleach in an effort to kill herself and when that didn't work, she committed suicide, this time ensuring it was effective.

Those are not the actions of an attention seeker. Those are the actions of someone who had truly had enough and wanted off this planet, for good. But why ? Because some pitiful insecure pack running bullies decided she wasn't good enough to join their social circle ? Really ?

When it comes to overt sexuality, why is it that women perpetually turn on women ? This is what I find so perplexing. We live in a society which deems it acceptable for an individual to approach a seven year old child and tell her - "Your mother is going to die of AIDS", simply because that child's mother chooses to work quite legally as a sex worker.

We live in a society in which Rape Crisis Scotland deem it acceptable to loudly announce a 'Reclaim The Night' march in Glasgow in support of women against rape (which in itself is fantastic) but to then denounce sex work as an 'act of violence'. One rule for the 'nice' women and one rule for sex workers ?

We live in a society in which Joan Burnie of the Daily Record deems it acceptable to say that Edinburgh saunas are "sad, seedy and sorry". I doubt that she has ever set foot in a sauna in her life, I challenge Ms. Burnie to visit the saunas with me, and speak to the women therein. I think she'll find that they are very much of the same ilk as herself, ordinary women getting by and paying their bills day to day.

All of the above is what I lovingly refer to as 'faux feminism'. It's when women who choose to call themselves feminists selectively choose their allies, to the exclusion of other minority groups who don't meet their moral standards. And it's not on.

So why am I so angry about 'faux feminism' ?

I'm a sex worker, prostitute, whore, call me what you will. I have felt first hand what it feels like to be isolated and bullied because of what I have chosen to do in private, between consenting adults, and within the law. I don't fit within the moral code of faux feminists, I make them uncomfortable. How they deal with that discomfort is to project their insecurities onto me.

They call me slut. They call me whore. They hold their husbands tighter. They hitch their skirts higher, to compete.

None of which bothers me, but what does bother me is when a young impressionable girl like Amanda Todd is driven to suicide because of the elitism of others. She was a hormonal teenager and flashed her breasts. Crime of the century ? We could have a discussion around the 'Page 3' debate ad infinitum, but the reality is, there will always be breasts in the media. Nudity, even. I'm willing to bet that the very women who complain loudest about the 'abuse' of such 'victims' who dare to show their breasts on a public platform are the very ones who creep to bed with 'Fifty Shades of Grey' and their rampant rabbit. That's morally preferable, after all.

I just hope that those who ensured Amanda Todd's early grave can live with their conscience and can sleep at night. I sure as hell couldn't bear that burden, and if you pay any heed to the sex work abolitionists, then you will know that my future confessional is simply straining at the seams.

LL xx

On the subject of Rhoda Grant

Quite a while ago now, I took La Princess to see the new(ish) Katy Perry film. I was looking forward to it rather like I look forward to a smear test, irritating but necessary nevertheless. For the first part, I was mildly interested and just able to resist the infantile temptation to flick popcorn at random heads. Understand this, embarrassing your children in public is not a benefit, it's an obligation.

Imagine my pleasant surprise then, when I discovered what an immensely enjoyable outing it was. The film itself wasn't exactly oscar award winning, but what struck me was the way in which Ms. Perry dealt with the disintegration of her marriage to Russell Brand. She was in the middle of a gruelling tour and absolutely exhausted and one was left with the feeling that his treatment of her during the break up was nothing short of appalling. (Lawyer clients, quit twitching, I of course mean allegedly.)

There was a scene which will stay with me for a long time. Our heroine was lying on a bench where ordinarily she would have her make up and hair done before going on stage and she was crying. Now, I don't mean "crocodile tears and gentle dabbing of eyes with embalmed tissues" crying, I mean sobbing. The majority had no idea what was wrong, since she had been intensely private about her marital troubles and only the very closest to her such as her sister were able to give her some comfort.

There were various people clucking around her who were clearly unwelcome at that moment not because she was being unkind but because she just couldn't do the whole "air kiss" thing. Having sought solace with her closest, she took a deep breath, looked at her make up artist and said "START". Various voices arose into the fracas, "are you sure ? we can cancel the show". Her reply was simply, "I SAID START". Start they did and thereafter, she managed to find a huge smile from somewhere and went on to deliver an undeniably mind blowing performance.

I can relate to that. I know how she felt and I know what it took to find that smile and "KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON". Crucially, she wasn't alone and there was a huge amount of support in evidence. Thanks to those treasured people around her she found that last reserve of strength.

This week, Rhoda Grant announced her proposed change to the legislation in Scotland (link here) and when I read it I could have sobbed myself. Debunking the "statistics" quoted will not be an issue and together with her own comments, the whole paper made me gasp in disbelief. It is simply unthinkable that anyone in a position of supposed power could be so ill informed, not to mention doggedly determined to proceed on the basis of some seriously skewed beliefs and statistics.

But if I thought for one moment that I could curl up on a sofa and weep, not a chance. Once again, I am surrounded by those who truly care not to mention the army of activists who will fight to the death to ensure this shoddy and contemptible piece of legislation will never see the light of day. We will not be dictated to and no-one, but NO-ONE will take away our rights and our livelihoods. We are many, we are united and we are strong.

I said START.


LL xx

On the subject of disabilities

(The following blog post contains graphic scenes of sexual contact with disabled persons, reader discretion is advised. If you think you may be affected by any of the content contained in this blog post, I suggest you feck off and read a blog about flower arranging instead.)

I have a client I see from time to time, let's call him 'K'. K is a young guy, very handsome, always spotlessly clean and smelling like heaven on earth. His emails send me into convulsions, he has the most amazing sense of humour and his wry observations on the topics of the day would outdo many contemporary writers.

Like most men, one of K's favourites is fellatio, he likes nothing more than for yours truly to peel off the layers down to lingerie with stockings and suspenders and get to work. He lies back in blissful abandonment, and enjoying every moment.

Every so often, I get a swift blow to the back of the head, something I'm accustomed to now. We seem to have developed a ratio around the whole experience, for every three or so thumps, there is one "sorry". K can't avoid smacking me, because he has very limited motor control of his limbs as a result of his cerebral palsy. In the end, we both usually end up in fits of laughter at the absurdity of it all, because that's all we CAN do really. How wonderful.

Many years ago and in a brothel far away came an elderly man and it's fair to say that he frightened small children (to coin a phrase) because he had developed a form of mouth cancer which back then, very little was known about. His treatment at the time involved cutting the offending tissue away, which meant that on one side of his face his cheek was missing and if you looked at him from the side, he looked like a sinister, grinning skeleton. His wife had died some time previously and as a result of his appearance he lived as a recluse, going out only every couple of days for messages. Once every couple of months though, he took a taxi to the parlour where I worked and I knew what he wanted.

I would thank him for my chocolates, light some candles and play some soft music. After that, he would drown me in baby oil and massage me from head to toe, every so often dipping his head just to inhale my perfume and bury his face into my neck. That was his treasured contact which he looked forward to so much. After about a year and a half of our appointments I moved to London but to this day I still think of him, a true gentleman in every sense of the word.

All of which leads me to the question, if the purchase of "sex" is banned, then what will become of those men who rely solely on sex workers for their needs, whatever they may be ? Can you honestly foresee a day when that elderly gent will be able to join a dating site and find a woman for a massage and a cuddle ? And what of K ? Will he ever meet a woman who can meet his needs and see beyond the exterior ?

It really angers me when I read the views of various writers who paint a picture of my clients as insatiable lust driven animals. A lack of knowledge on their subject is no deterrent to most of those critics. Let me be quite clear here, it's not a question of entitlement, not at all. No man is entitled to claim a sexual act as his right. On the other hand, I do believe that disabled clients ought to have the same opportunities as their able bodied counterparts, that's the differentiation.

If Rhoda Grant's new proposal is adopted as law, it will be a shocking indictment on just how small minded and blinkered we are as a country. It's time we recognised that not only is it impossible to "reduce demand" but also, "demand" is a very complex and multi-layered animal, as indeed is "supply", (best described as diverse in the extreme).

Frankly, were I a purchaser of "sex", I know I would find the notion of an ill-informed politician telling me what I can and can't do in the privacy of my own bedroom downright insulting. Ironically, to condemn those men I have written about to a life of solitude and loneliness on foot of a Victorian attitude towards the exchange of sexual services for money is hugely immoral in itself.

Apes and Altruism

Is there any such thing as true altruism ? I ask because of late I have been studying apes, not the type to be found at the taxi rank just off Sauchiehall Street on a Friday night, but bonobos. The female of the species appease an aggressive male by having sex with him, and in doing so ensure the continuity of peace within the group. That's all very magnanimous of her, but isn't there a reciprocal benefit ? As a female I know that you can't put a price on peace and quiet and what of her own sexual pleasure ? Also, what of her own increased standing in her peer group as a peace maker ?

I ask for your opinions on altruism (and do please feel free to comment) because last weekend, I raised the level of magnanimousness to infinity, I agreed to take LP to a "dance competition" in Blackpool. If the truth be known, I was rather looking forward to it because I had never been to Blackpool before and also, I knew she would enjoy the experience because she has been training SO hard, (for which read, almost taking the cat's eye out in the living room with various contortions which would have Madonna reaching for her cod liver oil).

On arrival to the recommended hotel (which by the way, I wouldn't order a sub to stay in), we were greeted with the familiar base beat of the music which was to haunt my life and my dreams for the next 48 hours.

Every parent's worst nightmare (aside from the very obvious) must surely be your treasured child, having consumed three cans of red bull, cartwheeling across the reception area of a hotel, almost knocking the zimmer frame out from under Glenda, recently arrived back from her trip to the local bingo. Ordinarily, I would die before I would allow my little darling anywhere near red bull, but here I had to concede because this is the way it's done at "comps". The dancing that they do is high energy, high effort and in repeated rounds, so if your little treasure wants to do well, taurine it is, like it or lump it.

One gets to an age where night clubs just no longer hold any appeal, the loud music, blinding lights and having to roar at each other become tiresome, a good meal out with some laughter becomes far preferable and to be honest, the thoughts of having some gobshite try and bellow some cheesy lines at me at the bar of a noisy nightclub in an attempt to get me under his duvet just fills me with horror. GET. LOST.

So, here's where the altruism comes into play. I placed myself in a darkened function room for two days, with two hundred wild eyed little princesses, all decked from head to toe in sequins and flinging themselves around to the incessant bellow of massive speakers, HELL.

Of most curiosity were the Mothers who wondered past with a broad beam, "...you enjoying yourself ? It's a great atmosphere !!"

ARE YOU QUITE MAD ??

From time to time, I took time out to retreat to our hotel room, and in spite of my immortal terror of them, I could enjoy the sight of several large rats scampering over the bins at the back of the hotel, (told you it was a dump) mainly because I was two floors above them. I allowed myself a flight of fantasy and pictured what it must be like as a rat. I'm sure it's pretty shit overall, what with natural predators, poisons, not to mention those eejits on a "life of grime", but at least they don't have to sit and "enjoy" two days of some truly dreadful music which would drive squatters and bed bugs out, never mind hotel "guests".

So in the end, I gave up. Sod it, if you can't beat them, join them and I necked two red bulls just to join in the hysteria and see what I was missing out on. Bugger all actually, but at least it convinced LP that an early night was in order if only to stop me doing my "Ebeneezer Good" rave moves on the dance floor, mission accomplished.

In the end, when I had all but voluntarily signed myself in to the nearest secure unit where I could draw with some nice non toxic crayons all day, came the moment, that which made it all worthwhile.

She had done it and lifted a very large trophy over her head, to tumultuous applause, and screeches from her amassed completely delirious and cross eyed peers.

"Altruism" my backside, the reciprocal feeling of maternal pride was one I won't let go of for a very long time to come.

LL xx

Mother of the Year

It's a very odd situation to be in really, mine I mean. Recent events have conspired to ensure that I am 95% "out", at least in my local area, but that's OK. Had I been asked how I felt about being "out" four years ago, the likelihood is you would have found me in a crumpled heap in a corner, but that's because at the time there was a very large element of a very small community determined to make sure I was "out" to all and sundry and further, to make sure that the full brunt of all that entailed in a small town was brought to bear on both myself and my daughter. How times have changed.

These days I view it as a very strong position to be in because I believe that if it's not a secret, then it can't hurt you. So my neighbours, my family and all my good friends know too, that I am a chubbier and probably narkier version of Belle. Their support and their acceptance mean a great deal to me actually, not that I'm so insecure that I would seek their support but when it comes to protecting my daughter then I will take any help that is on offer.

When we initially moved to Ayrshire some time ago, La Princess befriended a couple of little girls and at first everything was splendid although I did have one or two inner "niggles". Two of the girls concerned began to literally live at my house at weekends, ostensibly because I was a "cool" Mum, in other words I let them bake cakes in the kitchen on a Sunday and didn't have a nervous breakdown if there was some flour left on the counter. Having (at that point) never met the parents of one of the little girls though, I began to have concerns when her parents said it was perfectly OK for her to spend the night at our house and she could come back the following day, um .... whenever.

Quite obviously, I'm not a child abductor or serial killer, but they didn't know that. Again, I'm not nominating myself as "Mother of the Year", but if my heiress to the throne wanted to stay out all night then damn sure I would be down to the house to meet the parents and make sure I knew who they were and what they were about. These "sleepovers" happened on several occasions before I actually met the parents and I'm sorry, but I found that odd. Following on from that came the Sundays. I literally became the "Pied Piper" of the locality and every time I sought to go out on a Sunday with La Princess, there were two little tag alongs, kicked out of the house for the afternoon with a fiver and a "make sure you say thank you".

None of that became an issue until it became known locally who I am. Suddenly, those little girls who were kicked out of their houses routinely because their parents needed "to rest" were no longer allowed to come to my house, or hang out with my daughter. I have to tell you, that hurt. It hurt me, because I had welcomed them in with open arms when they were clearly a "nuisance" at their own homes. Stepping aside from my own feelings though, it hurt La Princess, because she couldn't understand what she had done to create such a rift, and given that I had only begun to explain to her about the nature of my job then I really couldn't explain the actions of some severely hypocritical and bigoted parents.

The good news is, since then we moved again and are now surrounded by the most wonderful, loving and accepting people, who will stand by us and support us no matter what, a position which is very much reciprocated. The irony of it all is, we still bump into those girls and indeed their parents, and it's all I can do to stop myself bawling them out on sight, but that's not who I am and it's not the values I want to instil in La Princess either.

So instead, since they know who I am and I know they read my blog then I would like to say the following -

*clears throat*

Congratulations. Congratulations on teaching your daughters the very values I have gone out of my way to avoid as a Mother. Intolerance, bigotry, prejudice, and downright dogmatism.

Myself ? I'd rather continue to teach my daughter acceptance, assertion, self-worth and a belief that no matter who or what you come up against, let it never deter you.

LL xx