What I learned about Men, Money, and Survival Through the Lens of Sex Work

My twenty-two-year-old daughter recently suggested that I write about the first time I ever got paid for sex. It took me a while to deliver because I had to think it through.

At first, I laughed. 

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Not because I’m ashamed of it. I’m not. I’ve always been pretty open about my experiences and the things I’ve survived. My first thought was simply, “Who the fxk wants to hear about that?” because this lifestyle comes with its ups and downs, and all attention ain’t good attention.

Then I realized that many people want to know. Most people like rawness and respect the real.

People are curious about sex work, but what they’re usually curious about is the grittiness, the rawness, and the fantasy. They want the glamorous version. The movie version. The version where everybody is making easy money and living a fast life.

But mo’ money, mo’ problems. So, what they don’t often hear about is reality.

For me, it started with survival and the motive to survive struggle by any means. I was raised on the idea that, if it came down to it, you use what you've got to get what you want. Because it’s not what you do but how you do it. Many have different titles and opinions for what I do; I call it what it is, selling pussy, a lifestyle that the streets gave me no choice but to master.

I wasn’t raised with parents who taught me healthy relationships, self-worth, or financial stability. My mother never gave a fxk and my father was absent. I raised myself through hardships and life tribulations built around surviving in one of the most dangerous cities in America. Most of what I learned about life came from watching people around me and figuring things out the hard way.

One lesson that stuck with me came from my aunt in Brooklyn.

I remember my cousin coming home after spending the night with a man and asking my aunt for a cigarette. My aunt looked at her and said, “You mean to tell me you spent all night with a man and he couldn’t even buy you a pack of cigarettes?”

At the time, I thought it was funny.

As I got older, I realized there was a bigger lesson behind what she was saying.

People will gladly take from you if you let them.

Your time.

Your energy.

Your body.

Your loyalty.

And sometimes they’ll take all of it while giving absolutely nothing in return.

For years, I had dealt with men who had plenty of expectations, needs, and wants, but very little to offer. Looking back, I was investing in situations that had no return. The reality was those men didn’t give a fxk about me, my struggle, or my story. They wanted one thing and one thing only: to be sexually satisfied.

Eventually, my mindset changed.

I began to see life for what it was. 

If I don't learn to acknowledge my needs, I’ll continue to lose instead of win in life. 

If I allowed fear of speaking up for myself to keep me silent, life would continue to pass me by. 

I was thrown into the streets, and my only option was to adapt because the world wasn’t going to slow down just for me.

I had to get with the program. 

I started valuing myself differently by accepting my life for what it is. Learning at a young age that nobody was going to save me. My only option was to save myself. 

I was no longer lying up with a man, then waking up not knowing how I was going to feed my children. I was done lying on my back if it didn’t come with something that I could benefit from. Most times that was money but other times the benefit is deeper than materialism.

Money, power, and respect. 

Fairness 

And balance. 

I started paying attention to effort.

I started paying attention to reciprocity.

I stopped entertaining people who only showed up when they wanted to take without giving. They expected me to give my all just for GP. They watched my struggles, turned a blind eye, took what they needed, and were gone. Each time they left with a piece of my value, and that had to stop. I once had a home girl who tried to teach the game. She was staying with me and had four little girls; they were all sleeping on the living room floor. One day, she left to go have sex and brought the man in the house to use the bathroom. Imagine a man walking past children on the floor after having sex with their mother and not caring enough to even offer help towards a place for them to stay. It was scenarios like that, which taught me the importance of speaking up. Don’t ever be scared to ask for what the next woman ain’t scared to spend. 

I started standing up for myself in business about my respect and self-worth. For that, I lost friends who felt like I was acting “better” than them. But I continued walking in my truth no matter the cost. There’s no hustle without sacrifice. 

I respected the lane that I was in

It was honest

Real. 

There were no fake promises.

No pretending somebody wanted a relationship.

No manipulation.

No pretending we were building a future together.

The arrangement was exactly what it was. Straight to the point, no sugar coating. 

If my pussy was good, I would get every dollar in his pocket. It was simple mathematics, right up my alley. No hassle, no begging, and there was no reason to pretend; I didn’t have to risk my life by robbing Peter to pay Paul. All I had to do was shut the fuck up and allow my pussy to talk for me? Let’s just say, I jumped at the opportunity. 

I respect it when everything is straight to the point; it leaves no room to beat around the bush. When I am doing myself, I don’t care about the gossip that comes with it. It doesn’t matter to me what the streets are saying. One thing they couldn’t say was that I was giving it up for free. 

That doesn’t mean the lifestyle is always glamorous. There are still bills, struggles, and drama. I had gained my respect by putting myself first, and most importantly, I had learned that Pussy is Power, which goes without saying.

It doesn’t mean it was empowering every second. But my confidence did grow, each time I spoke up for myself and chose not to settle.

It doesn’t mean there weren’t risks. It came with a couple of broken windows. Haters and thieves. Fake friends are trying to mimic my style, and everybody who claimed to love me expected a handout.

But it did teach me something important about boundaries and the importance of being discreet, disciplined, and carrying yourself with respect and morals. 

I learned that many people will respect a boundary faster than they will respect someone who constantly sacrifices themselves for free.

I also learned that money changes people.

Not just the people spending it.

The people around you, too. I started to see my friends stealing from me. Expecting me to be the one who footed the bill. I was the one who brought the drinks and left the tips. I soon became “Auntie, sister, cousin, and best friend.” It’s funny how that works. Even my so-called man was jealous. Fake friends turned their nose up but envied the money that I was making and the popularity that came with it. 

Some people celebrate your success.

Others start competing with you.

Some people support your hustle.

Others secretly resent it.

One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned throughout life is that jealousy doesn’t always come from strangers. Sometimes it comes from people you considered friends.

That’s a painful realization, but it’s an important one. 

One that I was well familiar with. 

When family members began to fake cheer for me, but kick me in the back behind closed doors. Gossiping on three-way calls with enemies and spreading lies in group chats. Hate became a part of my everyday life. But I never looked back, I kept my eyes on the prize. My biggest motivation is remembering the reason I do what I do and why it all began. I will always remember where I came from, Camden, New Jersey, and that reminder was always the motivation I needed to keep going, to keep grinding and striving. 

I was robbed, jumped by both men and women, but never once did I stop being who I am. 

Another thing I learned is that not everybody is built for honesty. 

And most people aren’t built for the streets. 

People love to judge sex workers while ignoring the countless ways society exchanges intimacy, time, labor, and affection for financial security every single day. The only difference is I'm not hiding my truth. I am proud of who I am; they tried to fade my beauty, but I still smile at my story. I embrace my flaws, I am proud of my wounds. I acknowledge the little girl in me who had to do what she had to do. I still clap for myself, I pop my ass every time I hear a beat drop, because every day I’m celebrating surviving a journey that others didn’t. 

Some people hide who they are; they allow society to make them small. For that reason, some arrangements are spoken out loud, and others aren’t. 

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become less interested in judging people or myself and more interested in understanding. 

My first experience getting paid for sex wasn’t some life-changing fairytale.

It wasn’t the beginning of a glamorous empire.

It was simply one chapter in a much bigger story about survival, self-worth, money, relationships, and learning how the world really works. My mother kicked my children and me out on the streets, and it forced me to have to adapt in ways that I didn’t prepare for. I learned life as it went, lessons as they came, and how to survive based on the circumstances. 

If there’s one thing I took away from that experience, it’s this:

Never let anyone convince you that your value is determined by their opinion of your choices.

People will judge you whether you’re struggling or succeeding.

Whether you’re broke or getting money.

Whether you’re giving too much or demanding more.

So you might as well live your truth.

The people who were going to misunderstand you were going to do that anyway.

My motto is, there's no reason to duck smoke. Stand in your truth and own that shit.

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My name is Ruthless. I am a single mother of 4, born in Brooklyn, New York, and raised in Camden, New Jersey. I’m most down for being a popular duo live streamer by the name of Soy Sauce and a popular Author by the name of Saja Jay. I began writing after the sudden death of my younger sister, Janaya Shanice Lynch, because I promised her I would before her death, and I am fulfilling my duty and keeping my word to my favorite person, who was once my biggest supporter. I love to do all kinds of things, but my favorite is simply just being me.

My Cash App is $RedRubyTheGoat for donations and Tips.

Never stop grinding and always stay on your pivot.

Thank You ♥️