It’s time to talk about the erasure of violence in sex workers rights activism

Laura LeMoon
4 min readDec 11, 2017

I’m a trafficking survivor and sex worker. It’s no secret I’ve found it hard to have such distinct experiences and exist within each of these movements simultaneously. When I started in my sex workers rights activist career at a peer based nonprofit for sex workers, I was met with a great deal of resistance to open up a dialogue about violence in sex work. But not by participants at the clinic. By the staff- by activists. I began at the clinic creating a five week workshop for the community all about job related violence and on the first night the room was so packed we had to start turning people away. Sex workers WANT to talk about violence; sex workers rights activists (those working at nonprofits and advocating publicly on our behalf) do not as much.

As a trafficking survivor I have had my experience of violence in the industry erased again and again by well meaning sex workers. Now I’m a sex worker too so I get it- we are constantly on the defensive against law makers, the general public and other “anti’s” who consistently use the example of trafficking as means to condemn an entire industry. I get exhausted defending sex work, too. But your defensiveness also shuts down my ability to speak freely about experiences that you may just want to sweep under the rug and have “go away” so that you no longer have to deal with all the criticism. Please don’t erase me to give yourself autonomy and agency in the eyes of a group of people who will never respect us or help us anyways.

I talk a lot about the bullshit that exists within the anti-trafficking movement and I think it’s only fair to point out the shortcomings of the sex workers rights movement as well. We’re not doing as great of a job as we think we are about providing safe space for sex workers to talk about job-related or interpersonal violence. I live in the ether between force and free will, between violence and freedom, between trafficking survivor and sex worker. I have LIVED this erasure, this discomfort that you sex workers feel when people criticize the violence that can exist in sex work. There are better ways for us to rally and come together against outside criticism than just to agree “not to talk about it.” If there’s anything that working as a sex workers rights activist has taught me its that sex workers- especially street based sex workers- really want to talk about violence. What also isn’t talked about is the pure classism, transphobia and racism that this erasure operates under. Bourgeois, upper-crust white cis escorts who make $800 per booking are the ones who are the most militant about silencing conversations around violence and these workers are the ones who are least effected by institutional violence and oppression. As a former street-based “crackwhore” who was lucky to make $80 for a trick, I say you rich bitches need to be the ones to shut the fuck up and take a back seat. Quit telling me what I can and can’t talk about cause you make enough money to thrive in sex work and I barely just make enough money to eat everyday.

So if silence and turning a blind eye isn’t the right answer, then what is? What do sex workers need to do to be more inclusive of voices that have experienced violence? Create space for pain to be shared. Literally and figuratively. Only recently have we really seen some services at sex workers orgs which address industry violence and trauma pop up. The tide is changing- especially compared to the attitude towards discussions on violence when I first started as an activist. But we have a lot of work to do to make sure folks feel like they will be embraced and supported for speaking about their trauma, rather than being looked at as a turncoat or a traitor. Even as a write this I am very nervous of the backlash, as the sex workers rights movement has not been historically great at taking criticism. Even from within our own community.

My dear sex working siblings; I know we want to put an end to the outside criticism of our profession. I know it’s painful to hear someone who has never walked in our shoes dismiss our work because they don’t understand it- but to me it’s more important that other sex workers feel safe to speak honestly rather than possibly change the minds of one or two “anti’s.” We have to take care of our own first. Violence thrives in silence.

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Laura LeMoon

As seen in HuffPost, The Daily Beast, Bitch Magazine, Insider, and more. Former peer policy advisor to UNODC, USDOJ, CDC, City of Seattle and WHO.