Skip to content
Join our Newsletter

Comment: Do sex workers deserve a #MeToo movement?

In recent weeks, many brave women and men in Hollywood, politics and other fields have come forward to report their experiences of sexual assault and harassment.

In recent weeks, many brave women and men in Hollywood, politics and other fields have come forward to report their experiences of sexual assault and harassment.

I’ve watched the #metoo campaign take off on social media, and I’ve been thrilled to see that so many people are taking sexualized violence more seriously than ever before.

As glad as I am that these conversations are happening with increasing frequency, it has been hard for me to navigate this new cultural landscape that supposedly embraces victims and their stories. Do I get a voice here? Where do I fit in? How do I share my #metoo story?

As a sex worker who has been sexually assaulted on the job, I feel scared and embarrassed to talk about my experiences. I know that people from all walks of life might feel shame, guilt or embarrassment about being victims of sexual assault, but as a sex worker, I wonder if these feelings are magnified.

I once encouraged a sex-working friend of mine to call the police after being harassed and threatened at work, and the police officer told her: “This type of thing comes with the job — what did you expect?” Our culture tells sex workers that we should expect abuse, that we should expect to be treated poorly, and that we should expect to have our boundaries pushed or violated.

In my experience, most clients have respected my boundaries. I’ve been able to express what I’m comfortable with and what I’m not during the vast majority of my sessions. When my boundaries were violated in the past, it was incredibly traumatic. I did not feel as though I had anywhere to turn.

It is becoming more common these days to tell victims that they are brave for coming forward to report their assaults, that they are not to blame and that they didn’t deserve what happened to them.

Sex workers don’t get the same sympathy. We are assumed to be at fault for supposedly putting ourselves in harm’s way. Or worse, we are assumed to be un-rapeable. I’ve heard many times the claim that one can’t rape a sex worker, one can only steal from her.

The reality is that consent does matter to sex workers, just as it matters to everybody else. I can consent to one activity and not another. If my consent is violated, my experience of sexual assault should not be considered any less valid or important than that of an actress or a political intern. Furthermore, violations of my boundaries should not be considered inevitable due to the nature of my work.

I wish I could count on the public to support me the way they support actresses and interns, but I just don’t feel that I can. Sunday is the International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers, and a community event is being organized by Peers Victoria, an organization that supports people in the sex industry. The event starts at 2 p.m. at Bastion Square and moves to the city hall antechamber at 2:45 p.m.

This year, I ask you to consider how you can help us. I believe that members of the public can help by starting to examine their own thoughts about the sex industry.

Do sex workers deserve the same protection? Do sex workers deserve the same compassion?

Reflecting on these questions might inspire a shift in attitude that can lessen the stigma against us. We are a marginalized group, and there is only so much we can do to lobby on our own behalf — we need your support.

Celine Bisette is a sex worker in B.C.