The Audacity to Defy Tradition

As the youngest of a huge family (more family members than I have fingers for), I grew up in a “raise yourself” environment. By the time my parents got to me, they were tired. Their primary advice was essentially: sit in the front row at church and take notes every Sunday.

So I became a very observant child.

I watched my siblings grow up, fall in love, get married, have children, get divorced, start over, and sometimes stay in relationships that clearly weren't making them happy. I watched people build the lives they thought they were supposed to want without always asking themselves whether they actually wanted them.

Naturally, I started asking questions.

Why do people do things this way? Does this actually work? Do I believe this because I believe it, or because somebody told me I should?

I still ask those questions. Probably more than is socially convenient.

For a while, my answer was to reject the whole script. Marriage? Monogamy? White picket fences? No, thank you.

Then I realized I'd just written myself a different script - and was following it just as obediently.

These days, I'm especially drawn to people who are curious about themselves. The ones who notice what they want, what they think they ‘should’ want, and aren't afraid to admit when the two don't line up neatly.

I live for that kind of curiosity. The kind that doesn't need to have all the answers, but is willing to notice what makes you feel good and what you've secretly wanted for a very long time.

That curiosity has shaped the way I think about sex more than anything else.

I find sexuality expansive. Immersive. Essential. Sometimes you're looking for sex. Sometimes you're looking to feel wanted, entertained, playful, understood, or simply a little less alone. Sometimes you don't know exactly what you're looking for until you find it.

Which brings me, inevitably, to six years of being a barista.

I loved my regulars. I knew their names, their partners, kids, and hobbies. I knew who was getting divorced, who had a job interview coming up, and who was going to sit at the bar for a full, beautiful conversation while I made their cappuccino.

The coffee was almost beside the point.

People came back because they liked being known.

There's something lovely about walking through a door and having someone recognize you. They remember the thing you mentioned last week. They already know exactly how you like your coffee, and for a few minutes, you're not anonymous.

You're a person they were hoping would come in today.

That barista instinct is something I've carried with me, especially in sex work.

I notice when someone is nervous, and when their shoulders finally drop. I notice what makes someone laugh, what puts someone at ease, what catches their attention. I notice the little shift that happens when someone realizes they don't have to perform anymore.

They can just relax and let themselves be taken care of for a while.

That moment is one of my favorite things.

Maybe that's why this work feels so meaningful to me. I'm interested in finding out what you really want.

And I don't necessarily need you to tell me right away.

Maybe you know exactly what you're looking for. Maybe you're curious about something but aren't sure whether it's really for you. Or maybe you simply want to spend some time with someone who makes you feel comfortable enough to find out.

I'm interested in all of those possibilities.

Because I think the best experiences happen when you don't have to spend the whole time trying to be the person you're ‘supposed’ to be.

So if you walk through my door, you can leave the script outside for a while.

You don't have to be the version of yourself you bring everywhere else.

You can be curious. You can be playful. You can surprise yourself.

You can find out what happens when you stop performing and let yourself be seen.

I'll certainly be curious about you too <3