The Highs and Lows of The Lifestyle: When Fantasy Meshes with Reality
One cannot deny that in order to perform at one's best as an adult entertainer, companion, fetish provider, or however one may choose to classify oneself within this lifestyle, one must be of sound body and mind. This line of work is much more intimate than others. However, the factors that may drive one into this work may be less than favorable. Many who cannot hold a “normal” day-to-day job due to mental or physical obstacles find themselves turning to sex work in order to help make ends meet. With a rise in mental health issues such as depression, ADHD, and autism, along with a less-than-favorable economy and job market, I wouldn’t be surprised to see the number of SWrs (Sexworkers) entering the market increase in these upcoming years, much like it did during the pandemic. Although we are here to provide a fantasy, one must consider the deeply human reasons we enter this profession. Entering the industry is the first step, but maintaining momentum once you’re established is another challenge.
Since the pandemic, my career as Winter Leigh has spanned several years, and I’ve had to take many breaks from work due to health and family reasons. Each time I returned to this industry, trying to start where I had left off, it felt like climbing out of a deep, dark pit and trying to get established again. For me, the number one benefit this career grants me is freedom, but no line of work within a capitalist system can provide complete and utter freedom. Although this industry has made significant progress in inclusivity, allowing any and every type of individual the potential to make serious money, our imperfections are extremely visible given the high level of intimacy we provide to clientele. This puts us in vulnerable positions.
Even those who are face-in (companions or content creators who blur, crop out, or hide their faces for anonymity) must maintain an attractive figure to take flattering pictures for marketing. To make money, we must look good; to look good, we must be healthy enough to do so. Not to mention the physical demands of this job. A large portion of our community works as dancers or pornstars, and in those scenarios, our physical health needs go beyond just looks; we must achieve an athletic performance. As a fetish model who has performed many physical kinks, such as bondage, it is not a secret that every time we get tied up or use a large gag, either in that moment or later down the road, we put ourselves at risk for severe nerve damage. What we gain in freedom can come at a great cost to our physical and mental health.
This is a personal topic for me, as my mental and physical health have taken me away from earning an income quite a few times. While it helps that I never have to call in to a boss to ask for time off or worry about how the workplace might function without me, it doesn't guarantee I can come back and pick up right where I left off. To add to the pressure, I have relocated many times. With every relocation, I have adjusted and built trust with local clientele. Starting over again and again can wear a person down. Explaining things to clients or fans never becomes easier. Although parts of me relish the adventures I’ve had, other parts wish there were more stability for my past self.
At 18, I was given the whirlwind diagnosis of bipolar 1. While many would advise me not to share this openly in relation to my work, some symptoms, such as strong emotional reactions that are difficult to control and rapid, fast-paced speech that happens whenever I am excited, are quite difficult to hide. I’ve felt like I need a disclaimer at times. This isn’t meant to dodge accountability for my words and actions, but to help those who frequently interact with me understand. My life has always been an emotional roller coaster. It has been a personal lesson to not conflate my entire identity with a diagnosis, no matter how much it may consume and affect me.
As much as I aim to be a professional, I consider it a major factor in why I entered this industry. When working “resume jobs,” I barely had time to regulate. I would quickly become manic to cope with large workloads, eventually burning myself out. It was an ugly, destructive cycle. My current line of work has given me the space to manage my symptoms in a healthy manner. I’m going to have a vulnerable moment here, but one of my more notable hiatuses was due to a strangely traumatic occurrence. Disclaimer: I refuse to feel shame over things out of my control. I try not to feel embarrassed when I talk about it. I hope that by sharing these experiences, it procures empathy not only for me but for every SWr (sexworker) in this community who has had to take time off due to dramatic circumstances.
In the spring of 2023, I had left the life I was trying to build in NYC. Although I loved the city and adored the many generous gentlemen I met during that time, securing a healthy living situation was a difficult, mentally draining challenge for me. I headed back home to recharge in California. By July, I had met my current main partner, a relationship I chose to be open about with my fans because he is my videographer, photographer, and content partner. We began exploring different options; I had no idea where my life would end up as we decided to travel the country. We eventually found ourselves in Gainesville, FL, working on an organic farm after I felt a little overwhelmed by some of the rougher characters in Southern Florida. This farm was a full-blown homesteading, work-to-live situation. While some may call me a hippie due to growing up in NorCal and my deep love for metaphysics, plus the fact that I smoke a lot of weed, this lifestyle was not my first choice. I believe there’s a reason we, as a society, turned farming into an industry: not everyone is built for it. While having a steady supply of fresh vegetables and working at farmers' markets were lovely benefits, the lifestyle was dirty and rough. Still, I was determined to live like the pin-up princess I am. I managed a few shoots and sessions here and there, which provided a nice escape from the farm and access to a clean bathroom in a decent hotel.
It was an emotionally tough season for me. After several significant losses, somewhere between the deep depression brought on by grief and the roughness of the homesteading lifestyle, I began suffering from sepsis. I have underdeveloped kidneys that are prone to infections. I’m not sure if it was the sepsis alone or my bipolar disorder on top of it, but it became clear something was wrong with me by how strangely I had been acting. With my regular disposition, manic behaviors are not unusual. I’ve spent much of my 20’s spiraling and behaving in a way many would consider uncouth as I coped with the ups and downs of becoming an adult. My loved ones simply thought my bipolar disorder was getting the best of me yet again and kept dismissing that anything more was going on. But once the visual hallucinations began, there was no turning back. Sadly, I had made the mistake of watching the cult horror flick “Midsommar” right as the psychosis started to take a turn for the worse. If you’ve seen that movie, you can only imagine what type of hallucinations and delusions it would induce. I am also a Christmas Baby (born 12/25), and I had just had my birthday. While a Messiah complex is not unusual for anyone experiencing psychosis, I was blessed with an abundance of material to take it to the next level. I was admitted to the hospital somewhere around New Year's. For a few weeks, I had no idea what was real and what wasn’t. I saw many horrible things. Everything was a life-or-death situation, a battle between good and evil, and no one was to be trusted. My first clear memory was waking up frightened and asking another patient if I was responsible for everyone dying. I was under the impression that my birth state of Utah had been bombed to target the Mormons, killing all of my family. Of course, she laughed at me, leaving me confused as to what was even happening. The nurses eventually sat me down and explained to me what I was recovering from. Imagine living in one long, inescapable nightmare, unable to reach any semblance of logic or reality for multiple weeks.
I had survived a traumatic psychosis and a month-long hospitalization, but coming home presented a different challenge. As someone who has struggled with symptoms of bipolar 1 their entire adulthood, I’ve always had to fight for my autonomy. Now, it felt completely pulled out from under me. My entire world was turned upside down again; this event completely changed me. 4 weeks in a hospital felt like a lifetime. I’m sure anyone who’s experienced something similar can attest to that feeling. Living in a completely different world had me feeling like some sort of freak. You can talk about many different health problems openly, and many will view you as a victim, but when it comes to mental health issues, you will be viewed as a liability, even if those mental health issues were triggered by physical health issues. It was an experience that left me feeling even more isolated, while I was already dealing with a disorder that caused me to feel that way my entire life. It took weeks to truly realize that almost none of what I saw was real. I was horrified by the few real memories that came back, such as being strapped to a hospital bed and fed-up nurses having to chase me down…Talk about embarrassing. The entire incident forced me to return to my family in rural NorCal, and while the scenery up there is breathtaking, it didn’t help with the feelings of isolation I have always struggled with. My loved ones were shaken up, too. Regaining their trust and not only assuring them, but myself, that I was firmly rooted back in reality understandably took some time. I had to rebuild my already fragile life from the ground up once again.
It was about an exact year before I started traveling, seeing clients, and doing shoots. But the mark that was left upon my soul was undeniably large, and all the memories of what had happened felt like a heavy burden to carry. I had yet another life experience under my belt that no one I personally knew could relate to. To add to the layers of shame I was feeling, the medications I had been prescribed when I had been released from the hospital caused noticeable weight gain. I am no stranger to insecurity and body dysmorphia, but convincing myself to get in front of the camera again with noticeable weight gain was difficult. There wasn’t any glamorous, sexy way to explain what I had been through.
Still, almost exactly a year after my hospitalization, I did my first mainstream scenes in LA for Perv City and DP Divas, which were major career goals for me. Those scenes helped me financially prepare to leave my family’s home. I had another scene booked shortly after I left my family, with a notable producer who had a large following, and I had hoped that would further establish my comeback in the porn industry, or at least get me to a point where I could swing a few paid shoots a month. All I had to do was go down to LA, get a PASS-certified test panel, fly out to a nearby state, perform at the shoot, and receive payment. We would’ve been set to camp at a beach for a bit afterward to enjoy the beginning of summer in our new van. Maybe I’d be able to start booking enough shoots to hang out in LA for a while and establish myself more in my performance career…anything was possible!
Unfortunately, that sentiment proved true, and I got a false positive on the test (which I heard from nearly every performer in LA I had spoken to; the specific testing location was notoriously lousy for false positives). Even after additional testing confirmed the result was indeed false, the producer could not reschedule. With no solid connections in LA established at that time and barely any money to my name, I was entirely screwed. A few rough months later, I eventually recovered and found an apartment on the East Coast in beautiful New England. I’ve always loved the energy on the East Coast more than my native West Coast, plus I’m one of those people who has to believe in the sentiment that “everything happens for a reason” to keep my sanity. While I am currently happy with how things turned out, my story highlights the high-risk, high-reward nature of this profession and the difficulty of career recovery.
I’ve known many people who have had to pause their careers or lose work due to injuries or unexpected emergencies. One can go from completely broke to having their rent paid from just one day of working, or they can go from steadily booked to being unable to work in the same amount of time. This work is both physical and emotional; to be our best for our clientele, providers must be exceptionally fit in both. Being attractive and physically fit will carry one far, but if word of mouth spreads that they are not mentally fit, it creates an air of hesitation around potential bookings. We have to be aesthetically pleasing, but we are also responsible for fostering safe, healthy environments for those who want to explore their innermost desires. We are exposed to our clients’ most vulnerable selves, and while we are the professionals in these situations, sometimes our clients witness our vulnerabilities. To maintain a good reputation, we must perform our work with great care and respect.
Booking a session or service with a SWr who is mentally checked out or unstable can ruin a client's perception of the entire workforce. While there are many “hobbyists” (people who make a sport out of enjoying many different companions) who have the finances to regularly book with several different options, along with the acceptance that not every booking will blow their minds, most clients only book a few times a year at most, while many younger generations lack any experience at all when it comes to booking, let alone booking on a regular basis. A major complaint I’ve heard from many is that of those who have had to endure sessions with a companion who “made it obvious they did not want to be there” and seemed disinterested or had to abuse substances to get through a session. It’s easy to think those who charge higher rates would be more enthusiastic, but I’ve heard this complaint apply to companions who’ve been paid 5 digits for a weekend
An unsavory session may lead a client to never want to book services from a SWr ever again. Not only that, they may walk away with a tarnished view of the community as a whole, which can lead to negative projections and affect how they treat other SWrs they encounter in the future. Luckily, many who have shared their experiences with me have always done so with empathy and understanding. But I can’t help but wonder how many clients endured a poor experience, leading them to never book another session or service? Not every client who’s had to endure a negative experience with a SWr can be so understanding.
Many factors make it hard to turn down money. Survival is the most obvious one, and for those in the community who financially support others, there is much more at stake. Hustle culture promoted this image of constant productivity in exchange for stability. The adult industry is most definitely not immune to that. Many see back-to-back clients, shoots, customs, and video chats as a good sign, all while putting their health on the back burner. But while they’re smiling and putting on a successful image in the limelight, they may be dealing with a high level of dysfunction within themselves that will later lead to turmoil, either emotional or physical.
When I was a healthcare worker working with dementia patients, I loved caring for the residents. I worked in that industry from the age of 19 to 25. But the quality of life afforded to me by that income, along with the intense pressures within the workplace, had me fighting for any ounce of self-preservation I had. When I hear anyone speak about poor employee conduct in any healthcare facility, I can’t help but wonder what quality of life those employees are dealt (not that it excuses any form of abuse). It can explain why so many employees probably come in with a chip on their shoulder, barely hanging on to their sanity when they aren't given the resources or time to take care of their mental well-being. When I was in that line of work, many of my peers were single mothers, immigrants, or students, similar to the peers I work with in this community. Both SW and healthcare have long been highly accessible to marginalized communities, one of the many things those two lines of work have in common. In my experience, working in healthcare was exhausting, even though I loved helping people and found fulfillment in the job. Many employees I knew were overworked yet still struggling to cover bills, working extensive hours to compensate for the incredibly low wages.
I’ve always used the burnout from my healthcare days to justify my current underperformance issues and laziness as a SWr. As soon as I could afford to focus fully on maintaining my health and sanity, I took full advantage of that opportunity, and I now refuse to ever settle for less when it comes to regulating my nervous system. I’ll take every slow morning and self-care day I can get now. I cannot overstate how incredibly grateful I am to have found a career that’s given me a chance to do that. But the significance of my luck and privilege does not evade me. For the past few years, I have stayed with family and friends between tours. I had the community's support to hold me up when I was falling… but for those of us who have no one to catch us, what happens? If, for instance, I did not have the support of loved ones during the time I was hospitalized, what would’ve happened to me? Where would I have ended up, and what would I have had to do to survive? Not to mention the other more obvious privileges I’ve been dealt, including my race, weight, and being physically able, which made it easy to become established in this industry to begin with. It is exponentially more difficult for the POC, trans, and disabled members of our community. If things fall through for me in SW, I have help, and I already had a few basic privileges that’ve made this work exponentially easier for me than for others. My heart aches at the thought of those who don’t have any support to fall back on if they don’t make ends meet, or who don’t have the same amount of privilege I do.
Being selective with your work is one of the greatest privileges a SWr can experience. It grants one a smaller likelihood of unsafe experiences, whereas working at a high volume can increase risks of harassment, assault, STD’s & STI’s, along with many other traumatic situations. While it may be empowering to be selective in the moment, I can’t help but think of all the customs, video chats, sessions, collaborations, and shoot requests I turned down whenever bills are due. There once was a time I would panic at the thought of losing out on a single opportunity to make money. I would chase after so many carrots being dangled in front of me, only to end up in many regrettable situations. Selectivity is protection. But money must be made. I’ve also found that being selective has led me to more compatible clients. I can’t tell you how many SWrs I’ve worked with who’ve described a client as “Hard to deal with, but they pay well”. I’m happy to say I don’t put up with that in my current work, but I definitely had to when trying to recover my career. If a client proves too hard to deal with nowadays, I am perfectly happy leaving that money on the table. I can eat out less. I cannot afford any more traumatic or extremely stressful experiences if I want to continue enjoying this work. Also, once you become dependent on a difficult client, it becomes increasingly difficult to walk away over time. I find it best not to be in a position where I would have to establish such a relationship in the first place. But I haven’t always been so fortunate.
But what happens when you are in a position in which you cannot afford to turn the money down? Not to feed into toxic radical feminist rhetoric, but survival SW does put one in a position where they consent to things they wouldn’t normally consent to otherwise. I can only speak for myself, but I am much more likely to respond to a rude or poorly written inquiry when I am desperate for money; when I am financially comfortable, I can hold a higher standard for who and what I respond to. I have found myself much more vulnerable when it comes to booking shoots, as industry popularity determines how often you work, and it’s hard to build a consistent audience if you have to take a lot of time off. Agencies can be incredibly picky, and signing with one doesn’t always guarantee more work. While online work is always an option, the market has been heavily oversaturated, and with the amount of promoting and chatting you have to do, you may as well be working a 9-5. For me personally, that's not the goal. The goal was to avoid working a full-time job in the first place.
Over time, once you are established and you have a few decent videos out, there will always be fans who are excited to see when you return from a hiatus. You do not need thousands of followers. I’ve never had more than 100 subscribers on OnlyFans at once. I get overwhelmed easily, and sticking to a niche audience has been more beneficial to my mental health than trying to push myself to go viral, but I’ve always had a fan who’s watched me online and is willing to book an in-person session with me. I charge higher rates, so I don’t need many bookings to cover living costs. When people have been watching your videos for years, there will always be a line of people wanting to spend time with you. I know that I am in a position where, if I really wanted to raise my online earnings, I could do so easily. But that came from years of pushing myself, multiple recoveries, and working very hard to establish myself on multiple platforms. I wasn't confident about this earlier in my career.
I recently had to take time off again due to physical health issues yet again. The majority of my income comes from sessions or shoots, and I’ve always used what I earn from online platforms as “grocery money.” It was difficult not being able to see my clients. I am much more passionate about the face-to-face interactions I have while working this job than about providing online services. But despite missing out on my favorite parts, I still managed to make my month of recovery the highest-earning month on OnlyFans so far this year. Despite my online success, it was daunting to go from a moment of financial stability to not knowing when I’ll be able to work or perform again.
Every time something like this happens, I am reminded of how fragile it all is. How utterly fragile our existence is as SWrs. Sex and pleasure are multi-faceted, complex things. Providing those things to the public professionally can get tricky and complicated if you are not in the right place physically, emotionally, or spiritually. It takes tremendous care and consideration to build stability as a SWr. Our current times make it easier than ever to maintain multiple forms of income, but this past month reminded me that you really have to treat every extra platform you create as a safety net. Sometimes I earn so much from one income stream that it's easy to forget to maintain an online presence and publish fresh content. We do not receive insurance, paid time off, or unemployment benefits. We have to regularly invest in our appearance, supplies, outfits, travel, and testing costs while still maintaining a hefty rainy-day fund. It can be easy to forget the lows when you are in a period of highs. While I may have the privilege of ignoring my OnlyFans and ManyVids and going long stretches without posting or creating content, I still need that money in the long run in case I can’t do sessions. Life will always find a way to humble us, especially when everything is going right. We must be continuously wary of that fact.
These past two months have truly taught me a lesson: never become too comfortable as a provider. We must always be planning for the “what-ifs” in this life, even if it feels negative to entertain those thoughts. I could not have predicted what had happened recently any more than I could have predicted what happened to me in Florida a few years ago. Our bodies and minds can stop functioning at any moment. While I do not advise being overly paranoid about the future, I can tell any SWr from experience that they need to start planning their careers around long-term stability. Tend to the platforms you may find yourself feeling a little less passionate about, for those may be the platforms that bring in earnings when you need them most. As for clientele, please keep in mind what we are dealing with beyond the sexiness and the glamour. We are humans; our minds, bodies, and souls are just as delicate as yours or anyone else’s. While I encourage you to enjoy the fantasy, don’t let it desensitize you to the realities. At the end of the day, these flaws and tragedies make us all human. They're the thread that weaves our lives together, reminding us how raw and primal we are at our cores. Keep your fantasies; there is no need to feel guilty about your attraction to sex workers, and sometimes putting us on a pedestal. We’re used to it. It means we’re doing an exemplary job with our marketing.
The difficulties we face remind us we are alive; they can reignite our lust and passion for life if we let them. I'm looking forward even more to the next chapter of my career and to the fans I will be connecting with now that I am recovered and feeling better. I hope this blog sheds light on some of the more difficult topics in this community and further humanizes the connections we foster among ourselves. I will be resuming my usual business this summer, and I can’t wait to continue stabilizing all the amazing platforms I use to connect with my fans.
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