Being friends with someone who does sex work isn’t about pity, curiosity, or hero worship. It’s about seeing a person-fully, deeply, and without conditions. Too often, society reduces sex workers to stereotypes: the tragic victim, the dangerous seductress, the illegal outlier. But real friendship doesn’t care about the job title. It cares about who you are when no one’s watching. If you’re genuinely close to someone in this line of work, you already know this. But if you’re trying to figure out how to be a good friend-or even just a decent human-here’s what it actually means.
Some people stumble into this space through accidental connections. Maybe you met someone online, or through a mutual friend, or even while traveling. You didn’t know their work at first. Then you found out. And instead of pulling away, you stayed. That’s not rare. In cities like London, where the sex industry operates quietly under layers of stigma, people form real bonds. You might have seen a post about euro girls escort london and wondered if that’s what your friend does. It’s not the same thing. One is a search result. The other is a person you’ve shared coffee with, laughed with, cried with. Don’t confuse the two.
They Don’t Want You to Be Their Savior
One of the biggest mistakes allies make is assuming they need to ‘rescue’ their friend. That’s not friendship. That’s paternalism. If your friend chooses sex work, they’ve made a decision based on their own needs, circumstances, and agency. Maybe it pays better than their other options. Maybe it gives them flexibility to care for a child or pay for school. Maybe they just like the autonomy. None of that makes them less worthy of your respect.
Don’t ask if they’re ‘safe.’ Don’t suggest they ‘get out.’ Don’t send them articles about trafficking unless they ask. Most sex workers know the risks better than you do. What they need from you is consistency-not advice. Show up. Remember their birthday. Text them when you’re bored. Let them vent about a bad client without jumping in to fix it. Real support means holding space, not trying to change their path.
Don’t Out Them-Ever
Being a friend means protecting their privacy like it’s your own. That includes not posting about them on social media, not mentioning their work to mutual friends, not even casually saying, “Oh, you know, my friend does that.” Even if you think you’re being discreet, someone will hear it. Someone will judge. Someone might even report them.
Sex work is still illegal in many places, and even where it’s decriminalized, stigma runs deep. A single leak can cost someone their housing, their job, their custody rights, or worse. If you’re unsure whether something is safe to say, assume it’s not. Your silence isn’t complicity-it’s protection.
They’re Not a Trophy
Some people treat their sex worker friends like badges of honor. “I’m so progressive-I’m friends with a stripper!” or “I support sex workers, so I hang out with them.” That’s not allyship. That’s performance. If you’re proud of being friends with someone because it makes you look open-minded, you’re not their ally. You’re using them.
True allyship doesn’t need applause. It doesn’t post about it on Instagram. It doesn’t say things like, “I don’t care what she does for money.” That phrase is a trap. Of course you care. You care because you care about them. Don’t pretend indifference. Say, “I care about you, and I’m here for you, no matter what.” That’s the difference.
Know the Legal Landscape-But Don’t Lecturer
Sex work laws vary wildly. In Australia, where I live in Melbourne, selling sex isn’t illegal, but many related activities are. Brothels are restricted. Advertising is banned. That means your friend might be working alone, online, or under the radar. They’re not breaking the law just to be rebellious-they’re navigating a system designed to make survival harder.
Don’t lecture them about the law. Don’t tell them to “go legal.” They already know. What they need is someone who understands that the law isn’t fair, and doesn’t try to fix it with advice. Instead, learn the basics. Know what rights they have. Know where to find support services if they ever need them. But only offer that info if they ask. Otherwise, keep it in your back pocket.
They Have the Same Problems Everyone Else Does
They worry about rent. They get stuck in traffic. They hate their boss. They binge-watch Netflix. They argue with their siblings. They have bad days. They have good days. They cry over breakup songs. They laugh until they snort.
Don’t treat their work as the defining feature of their identity. It’s one part of their life-not the whole story. If you only ever talk about their job, you’re not being a friend. You’re being a tourist.
Ask them about their favorite book. Ask if they’ve tried that new Thai place downtown. Ask how their dog is doing. Ask what they’re excited about next month. These questions aren’t distractions. They’re lifelines.
Don’t Assume They’re Traumatized
There’s a dangerous myth that all sex workers are survivors of abuse. Some are. Many aren’t. Assuming trauma is a form of erasure. It takes away their agency and reduces their experience to a stereotype. If they want to talk about their past, they will. If they don’t, don’t probe.
It’s okay to say, “I’m here if you want to talk.” But don’t say, “I know you’ve been through so much.” You don’t know. And if you do, they already told you. Don’t rehash it.
They Don’t Need You to Speak for Them
Don’t post on social media about how “brave” they are. Don’t write think pieces about “the real lives of sex workers” using your friend as an example. Don’t invite them to panels as a token. Don’t tell strangers, “My friend is a sex worker and she’s amazing.”
That’s not advocacy. That’s exploitation.
If you want to be an ally, amplify their voice-not your interpretation of it. Share their art, their writing, their podcast, their activism-if they’re doing it. But only if they ask you to. Otherwise, stay quiet.
It’s Okay to Be Uncomfortable
Being friends with someone who does sex work might make you feel awkward sometimes. That’s normal. Society has trained us to feel that way. But discomfort isn’t a reason to pull away. It’s a sign you’re growing.
Own it. Say, “I’m still learning how to be the kind of friend you deserve.” That’s more powerful than pretending you’ve got it all figured out.
And if you’re still unsure? Just ask. “How can I be better for you?” That’s the question that matters.
Some people think being an ally means having all the answers. It doesn’t. It means showing up with your questions, your mistakes, and your willingness to keep trying. That’s what friendship looks like when the world is trying to tear someone down.
And if you’re reading this because you’re trying to understand what it means to be there for someone who does sex work-you’re already doing better than most.
There’s a whole world out there where people pretend to care. But real care? It doesn’t need a hashtag. It doesn’t need a photo. It just needs to be there-quiet, steady, and true. Like a friend should be.
And if you’re lucky enough to have someone like that in your life? Don’t lose them over fear. Don’t lose them over shame. Hold on. They’re worth it.
Written by Xander Whittaker
View all posts by: Xander Whittaker