It's Scorpio Season, Witches

Time to celebrate death, go into the darkness and re-birth yourself

I’ve been pretty silent on the internet as I’ve been spending 12 hours a day trying to birth my new business venture that came over me like a wave of AH-HAs! a few weeks ago at 5am. I sleepily leaped out of bed and started writing it all down so I didn't lose it and I haven’t stopped working on it. I have all my copy and photos for this new website and I spent hours coming up with a name, then tried to buy the URL domain (if you ever come up with the perfect name for a service or a company I’ll bet you it was bought years ago but they’ll let you buy for $9000.) I tweaked the name a bit so it was basically free, bought it and now I’m wrangling the tech stuff for the website (I have 5 other Wix sites so you would think I would know what I’m doing by now. Wordpress is way harder in my opinion.) My goal was to have this done by my birthday which is in 2 days, but I don’t think it’s going to happen unless I disable the mobile version of the site (but apparently most people don’t view websites on desktops anymore.) So I will keep wrestling with code and cursing out Wix and all their How-To videos. I don’t want to say too much about it (I’m always full of doubt and I don’t need any criticism yet) but here’s a hint:

Since I stopped doing domination work I felt a huge sigh of relief as I could finally stop playing this “MILF meanie Mommy Domme” character that exhausted me, it was like being an actor with one role. You had to play it out on social media all the time to stay in character, keep growing your followers and converting them into paying clients (and when I did get new clients I kind of dreaded doing those sessions.) They were tied down to my table and I was mostly doing one-way touch and flogging them. I didn’t have to kiss them and they didn't get to fuck me. But I fucked them: with a strap-on harness and a large latex dildo. I gained a lot of respect for men after doing pegging sessions as it’s very strenuous— you need good upper body and core strength to do it for a long time without pulling a hamstring or throwing your back out like I always did.

I started muting all the other prodommes I follow as it just made me cringe, but I kept being drawn into all the high-end escort posts. Even though stopped playing the role of escort “Joy” years ago, there were so many things I missed and I realized how I envied most of the escorts I follow on social media. The fancy Michelin restaurants, the sparkly gifts from Tiffany’s, luxury hotels, sexy overpriced lingerie (that I would never buy for myself) and yes, I was mostly envious of their rates for their “time”. Many young companions start at $2500 for a short first date and go up to the cost of a new car to spend the weekend together, presumably flying first class (or private) to an exclusive resort in Belize that they’ll post on Instagram.

(Sighs turning green.)

Just writing that out made me long for that life. I even got a little turned on thinking about how thick and heavy that envelope must feel their Birkin bag. Those were the perks I missed being an escort, even though I’ve never had a session that luxurious or booked a client that generous. The most expensive session I had was with a sort of cheap client I had met a few times in San Francisco, then a few months later I spent the weekend at his third home, a modern New York apartment in the newly gentrified Chelsea neighborhood. I was in Boston at the time so there was no “fly-me-to-you first class travel” I always fantasized about. I tried to keep my costs as low as possible as he passive aggressively whined about my $8k fee, but I really wanted to experience a paid weekend in NY. Also, that money was going straight to my down payment fund (I was saving like crazy to buy a house in Portland and was done with surviving in San Francisco.) To keep up my appearance as “high end” (and not just meeting him for the money because all clients want that fantasy)— I told him I took the Acela train ($285 one-way) and stayed the first night at a 5-star hotel, when in fact I took the $13 Bolt Bus where I was sandwiched between two sweaty fat guys and holding my pee in for 5 hours as the bathroom was what you would expect on a bus with 47 people. I stayed overnight at a youth hostel (as hotel prices were so ridiculous that weekend) and I ate Dunkin’ egg and cheese sandwiches after dining out at Le Bernardin and having midnight cocktails at the Carlyle when the weekend was over.

Every time I wear this scent, all the good memories of being “Joy” come back to me.

The experience was mostly wonderful. He bought me a present, a gift of custom expensive perfume that was on my wish list (with my fake hooker name printed on it- how romantic!) We strolled Chelsea Marketplace looking at all the vendors and he bought me whatever I liked. He got us front row seats to a Broadway show and tickets to the Museum of Modern Art at a Pop Art retrospective, with many of my favorite works. I felt like a spoiled delighted child who got to have her pony. He knew I liked cycling so he booked us a Soul Cycle class on our last day together and I was excited until I got into the room- it’s nothing like taking your bike outside for a spin, admiring the architecture and enjoying yourself. It’s a packed windowless room of sweaty competitive New Yorkers all grunting and panting in exhaustion. Each rider had their name, speed and score displayed at the front of the room so everyone could view it. I felt shame that I came in nearly last and my client taunted me for it. It was still better than the terrible sex with nearly no sleep I had with him all weekend long. It felt good to sweat out all contention between us before I kissed him goodbye and got back on the bus to Boston.

Circling back to the next evolution in sex work and this new business venture I’ve been working on: When I jumped out of bed a few weeks ago with the idea, I had been fantasizing for months of what a perfect session would look like. What if there was no “sex” or “work” in a session? What would my client be like, what would we be doing? In these sessions I could be all of me—not hide parts of myself, feel shame or lie pretending I was having a great time when I was doing a lot of emotional labor as an actress. But I would get paid well (and not put up with clients who bitched about my fees while driving in their new Mercedes), that would be the cherry on top of my hot fudge sundae. Even though I’ve also been working on reviving my photography website (my public main career for the past 25 years) I feel less inspired to work on it as it’s connected to struggles and failures from my past. I’m at a place where if I get very little business from trying this venture, that’s ok (I make most of money managing a rental property which isn’t dream job but it pays just enough to let me live comfortably.)

In this season of watching things leaves die a colorful beautiful death, know it’s also time of going into the darkness to plant seeds that will grow into something new.

Don’t forget to wish me a happy birthday at 11:11am this Saturday, 11/11. I was destined to be an ever-evolving unstoppable Scorpio woman.

Autumn is perfect, Spring is overrated. Look, I blend in with the foliage.