What I’ve Learned About Porn After 20 Years in the Industry

20 Pictures for 20 Years

Today, I turn 38 years old. I entered the adult entertainment industry as a performer and artist 20 years ago. 

Sometime in the last decade I wrote  “14 Things I Wish I Knew Before I Became a Pornographer,” for a mainstream women’s magazine. I wasn’t exactly given the freedom to carve the article out the way I wanted to; instead, being asked to write this piece felt like an invitation to trip over my mistakes in public and warn others about a life of struggle. As much as they were trying to be open to sex workers’ voices, they still framed our stories in a way that reinforced whorephobia (the stigma against/hatred for/fear of sex workers). 

As I entered my twentieth year in the industry, I started to wonder: What would it be like to revisit the idea of “lessons learned” for a porn-literate, porn-friendly, sex-positive publication, with an audience made up primarily of other sex workers and fans?

Throughout my career, I went from being 18 and getting rejected from every alt porn site I tried to work for, to starring in a scene with the world’s most popular porn star; it is safe to say I have learned a few lessons. 

Sex work has got to be the steadiest gig in the world, as long as you focus on the sex and the work.

My story begins with the first photos I took of myself naked against a bedsheet in my bedroom, when I started exploring the relationships between my sexuality and my art practice, as well as my relationships to labour and money as a young queer sex worker. Now it’s 2020. There’s a pandemic, and I’m still here in my bedroom. The biggest lesson I’ve learned? Sex work has got to be the steadiest gig in the world, as long as you focus on the sex and the work. 

Here’s a list deserving of the sex industry, from a porn star who is done framing my words for the Cosmo set. 

20 Lessons for 20 Years

A lot of porn workers see the industry as a game they play until they win. Winning means they get to leave the industry. This has never been my reality, and doesn’t have to be anyone else’s either. Porn is a job, a sport, a media, a performance. You don’t play porn, porn plays you. Within 60 days of your first studio scene, you’ll see most of the video up on torrent sites, making it impossible for you to promote through affiliates or resells. By then you’ll also have already learned that you need to update a poorly coded third party platform website every day to make a living. There’s no playing this game and leaving with your hair intact; porn is serious. 

Doing porn is a lot like being a boxer. I think of my hardcore scenes like “matches” with other athletes. Or maybe a dance? A duet with another singer, a performance that takes skill and the ability to build chemistry for an audience’s titillation. It’s not like I fall in love every time I fuck, in fact, it’s the opposite. I learn what emotional love is when I do porn, I see it in contrast to the love of sport and performance. 

Find your niche, but expand your reach. What does this mean? A successful performer/model always has something interesting about them. Once you find your niche, look around and see how you can bring more diversity and more influence to your niche – find what makes you special, and then make sure to include others and bring them along with you. 

List yourself as an artist, web designer, filmmaker, or a freelance tech worker on anything that asks. You’re not lying, look at your skill set. 

Camming has been around for a lot longer than people think. I remember being obsessed with Ana Voog around 1999, she had cameras refreshing around her house 24/7 and had it all behind a paywall. I was so impressed I immediately copied her, taking self-portraits and uploading them to a website behind a paywall. Simple. We spend a lot of time arguing about OnlyFans and Chaturbate when really all you need is a $1 domain, hosting, a webcam, and a paywall. Don’t pay anyone to do this for you, pay for lessons so you can do it yourself.

Porn is expensive and we don’t get paid enough.

Porn is expensive and we don’t get paid enough. Porn is expensive and we don’t get paid enough. Porn is expensive and we do not get paid enough. 

Your body is capable of so much more than you think it is. Squirting? Pole dancing at 40?  Doing the splits? Deep throating for the good spit? Full fists in your asshole and pussy at the same time? I am so glad I tried rope bondage and suspension work; with all of my chronic pain and spine issues, feeling like a bird in the sky was amazing. I’m also so glad I kept my Pleasers and continued to dance. I do yoga to remind myself that my body is free fueled by my breath.

Self care is crucial for anyone who finds themselves in a job that’s shrouded by stigma. You should know how to cook and clean, you should have a savings account, Plan B, an escape route, and whatever else you might need to save your own life. You want to be as independent as possible, and free from as many societal restrictions (sex work laws, abusive partners/family/freinds) as you can be. You should also be ready to step in and take the place of a mother, brother, dad, or sister for yourself and other sex workers in need. 

Sex work is all about self-promotion. I have found that few companies that advertise for you. As a result, my relationship with contemporary social media is transactional: I use it for work. In 2002, it was AOL chat rooms, Yahoo groups,  and BBs or Livejournal. Now, it’s a steady stream of personal-seeming tweets and Instagram posts that inevitably ask my followers to purchase something. It’s the same as it’s always been, even if it feels like it’s always shifting. That’s because it’s *always* shifting. 

When you’re in a small community like this one you have to learn how to be a part of a network that might need you someday, and you have to be able treat people with respect and kindness. I have learned to practice constant forgiveness of self and others; and also, that forgiveness isn’t something you can fake. It’s a daily practice that requires patience and planning. 

Conflict and abuse are not the same thing. In terms of relationships, if your partner rapes you, hurts you, steals from you, hits you, or controls your job and friendships, things won’t get better. That is the point of no return in the relationships.Take your time to get out safely, but get out. We often learn this one the hard way; please know you’re not alone.

Never, ever, let them see you high, girl. And, if you see the owner of the porn company high, ask for more money because they are snorting your money away. 

Drugs are fun, but you might want to keep them away from your job. I spent 80% of my Lusty Lady income on cocaine and bus passes. That’s not cool, that’s dumb. And what’s worse is that when I got better, I couldn’t go back. First, they wouldn’t let me, and second, it would be too tempting to go back to using regularly. I’ll do hard drugs once or twice a year when I’m around other mature adults, but I’ve seen some major falls from grace which remind me to keep drugs away from my work. My advice is to be SOBER at all of the following: the job site, awards shows, auditions, interviews, press days, the day before a shoot, the day of a shoot, virtual meetings, photoshoots, script reads, rehearsals, and nearly any party where you will be meeting the people who you want to hire you. Never, ever, let them see you high, girl. And, if you see the owner of the porn company high, ask for more money because they are snorting your money away. 

OK, this one’s hard. The industry is actually pretty scary. Don’t tell anyone, because they will use it against us (and they have). But here’s the thing: racist men have been given too much power, sexist men have been given too much power, and the enablers of these men run deep into the arteries of our performer pool, crew members, and retailers. Workers are being abused in our industry. Performers of color, trans folks, plus-size workers, and whistleblowers are at greater risk. That is to say, our industry, as a subsect of the film industry, mirrors the rest of the film industry when and where it’s allowed to. Our #MeToo moment is ongoing. 

Luckily, most porn is being made outside of those toxic relationships.  The number  of artists on ManyVids/ModelHub/Clips4Sale proves this. Porn is something that is now in the hands of the people, and this is a good thing.

Thicken your skin, because unfortunately there will be people who will want to fight, or want what they think you’ve got, or not get you, or not support you, or not like you, or not want you. That all happens on the daily. Not only do you have sexist and racist CEO’s, at the top, but you also have people in your community who just want to “play the game.” It feels common for people in porn to discreetly prioritize business relationships over personal ones when sexual assault or social justice issues pop up. You’ll expect people outside the industry to “not get you,” but the people inside the industry will catch you off guard. Stay sweet, but get ready. 

Most abuse in the entertainment industry (adult AND mainstream) comes from transgressions of this rule: The talent pool is not a dating pool.  Porn directors and agents need to be responsible and informed when it comes to consent and sexual health. This is particularly true when it comes to romantic involvement. Directors should not be dating new or younger performers; if they can find some lovers and partners outside the industry, that’s even better. We don’t have a standard HR department, so we need to design and protect our own #MeToo policies.

Academia is such a struggle; arm yourself well if  you enter it. I wish I had been more prepared for the amount of misdirection, harassment, and abuse I’d experience on campus for being out as a sex worker. Save all of your correspondence with faculty and staff, your deans, and your advisors in case you need evidence of anything that could possibly happen, from doxxxing to rape. Save all of your homework and readings so you can protect your knowledge and come back to it later. 

Other sex workers will be your greatest source of support.

Other sex workers will be your greatest source of support. Sex workers are the ones who donate to the crowdfunders, who sponsor the work of other sex workers, who show up for you, and who donate their time and labour. Sex workers are the ones that will fight along side you, with you, and for you. So pay attention to them. They are you, you are them. 

Don’t compete, not ever. The people in your scene and industry are your community, not your competition.  I have lost over 20 AVN Awards to other people. Those other people are my friends, like April Flores and Joanna Angel. You should be supportive of them and invite their support in return. 

 Sex work saved my life. At 18, and now at 38. Interacting with my clients directly, having that one-on-one interaction, getting on chat, evolving to custom clips and video shout outs, developing lifelong friendships with people who buy my porn and support my work and ideas. It’s an irreplaceable career. If I hadn’t gotten into phone sex at 18, none of this would have happened. Sex work has made my life as a queer artist entirely possible, through all the highs and lows of my personal life; through all the trauma and drama of scenes. I can go back to the dark screen of night and have meaningful digital transactions with strangers, and that’s healing. The humming fan, a constant grind. I now wipe the grease from my touchscreen with Lysol like I used to wipe the metal poles at the Lusty Lady with rubbing alcohol.  The steadiness of it all, the sameness of it all; I trust this place, and I know it will take me through to the end.