Helloo and welcome to my first Juno’s Musings post! I’m so excited to have you here.
I’m really passionate about what I do. I really, genuinely, love it. I love what my daily life looks like and I love being a part of an industry that is far more caring and supportive than I had wrongly assumed. I love all the opportunities it has given me, all that I’ve learned, and how much it has pushed me to grow.
When I first started in the industry at age 22, I did not expect I’d be doing it even a year later, let alone almost eight years later, at age 30.
When I entered the industry, I was a student partially with a need for money, but also with a desire for excitement; the industry, in my eyes, was thrilling. Knowing no one else who was doing this work, I dove into it largely alone, and was obsessed. A fun side hustle while in school. To end, likely in a few months, max by the time I graduated and began my “real job”.
Whether or not the newbie young Juno expected this, since beginning this journey, I’ve graduated from two degrees, and worked and left my “career”. Now for the past nearly three years, my exclusive income source has been as an intimacy provider.
It’s been an adventure, and I’d love to share it with you.
Why am I an intimacy provider?
I’m not working in the field my two university degrees set me up for. I will note the developed critical thinking skills, work ethic, and knowledge on social behaviour from my degrees has greatly supported my income, far past what my school-led career was affording me. But this definitely isn’t what I expected I’d do with my two expensive pieces of paper.
Being an intimacy provider began as my side hustle, something I was in and out of, more of a hobby than a professional choice. I loved it, but it couldn’t be my “main things”, with me finding myself always needing a coverup. “What do you do?” needed an answer like student or a socially acceptable job. I couldn’t say intimacy provider, right?
Nearly three years ago, I was working in the career path that aligned with my graduate degree… And hating my life. I didn’t like the work I was doing, and while other things were compounding to make it a shitty time, work was something I had the power to control.
I had re-entered the intimacy industry again shortly before this time. I was living in Toronto and struggling to pay my bills and student loans, let alone enjoy being there; saying a little hello to my “retired” alter ego was appealing. Within a few months of having my side hustle back, I decided to leave my “career” and pursue intimacy providing full time. You know, for a year or so, til I figured stuff out.
Why does it keep pulling me back?
The pros & cons of being an intimacy provider: My experience
I’d like to first begin this discussion by acknowledging my positionality in all that I do, including my work in this industry.
I am a white, cisgender woman, with formal education. While I still face social stigmatisation, given my identity as an intimacy provider, I am more easily able to navigate this discrimination than some of my colleagues.
Racism continues to be a huge issue plaguing our culture. The intimacy industry is not exempt from this. It’s far from it.
People who experience marginalisation because of their skin colour face further challenges in the industry, compared to those of us living with white privilege. The industry, like the rest of mainstream culture, provides more security to people with light skin.
I’ve heard of clients asking providers to roleplay in scenes rooted in racism, such as slavery. I know that should a client be harmful to me, while the justice system will still place judgement for being an intimacy provider, I am more likely to be believed as a legitimate survivor. Justice is more attainable for me than those who experience racism. I am better positioned to find safety, respect, and dignity in the work that I do. And profit
This is similar for gender.
Like the rest of our culture, the industry supports cisnormativity. Providers who are transgender, whether women, men, or nonbinary, often experience further stigmatisation than workers who are cisgender, such as myself.
I know nonbinary providers who feel the need to label themselves as women while in their work persona, both to receive bookings as well as safety. I’ve heard clients question the legitimacy of trans women’s gender, therefore the legitimacy of their services.
Race and gender are two of the most wide reaching identity categories in which some people face privilege, while others face discrimination. This is far from an exhaustive list, and if you haven’t felt included in it, please know I acknowledge there are a plethora of ways in which individuals can experience the world. Some in ways that favour them, their safety, and their success, some in ways which can hurt them.
So please understand that the pros and cons I’m going to share with you are the ones I have experienced, from my privileged positions. They are based on my experiences, with the identities I hold.
Now without further ado, let’s start with my top reasons I love being an intimacy provider…
Six reasons I love the industry:
#1 - Money
Financial freedom, yes, obviously. In the first year that I started taking the industry seriously, I paid off the school debt that was projected to take 10-15 years to pay if making the monthly minimum contributions that were all I could afford without being an intimacy provider. And I took five weeks holiday that year. Money doesn’t buy you happiness, but let me tell you having the weight of debt off my shoulders sure made me happy. As did the warm ocean in Mexico.
But it’s more than just money for me.
#2 - Independence
The autonomy and freedom in my work is a significant thing I love. I admire the people that can sit still at a desk and work productively on someone else’s schedule. But a 9-5 productive day? That’s not me.
There’s some set accountability, yes. When I book a two hour call with a client on a Tuesday, I show up at the time I said I would. When I’m having a lazy, unmotivated day, having those set appointments is helpful.
But everything else that being an intimacy provider entails? I can do that whenever I want. Whenever my brain wants. When I’m functioning at my highest capacity, and not when I’m not.
I’m a morning person, and I’ll wake up at 7 am on a Sunday and feel like sitting in a coffee shop, working on my laptop, doing social media marketing, writing my newsletter, replying to emails, and so on. Sometimes on a Thursday afternoon I’ll spend a few hours making content; sometimes it’s beautiful out and my brain is too distracted to be productive, so I go for a walk. While it does take a fair amount of self-motivation to make sure tasks are accomplished, the business hustle thrills me; the entrepreneurial life is definitely one my body and mind jive with.
Being my own boss is how I like it.
#3 - Adventure
That need for excitement that drew me into the industry? That’s still there. It’s evolved, but still a big part.
While my confidence and working knowledge have helped me to feel far more comfortable with bookings, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still sometimes get anxious butterflies before seeing someone for the first time. And the financial thrill.
I spend a lot of time working “unpaid”. When I’m answering texts and emails from potential clients every day at all different times, fielding questions and statements I’m sure I’ll analyse on here one day, I’m not getting money. When I’m spending hours making content, editing my website, rewriting ads… I’m not getting money.
Sometimes there are slow periods, where all this unpaid-behind-the-scenes work doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything…
Then, bam. A sale. Here’s a bunch of bills to make up for having to see unsolicited dick pics.
#4 - Confidence
Obviously I’m getting validation that I fit peoples’ beauty standards if they’re seeing pictures of me then hiring me. And many of these people then gush over me when we’re connecting in person. Come on, how can that not be a confidence boost.
But wait, there’s more!
Aside from when I’m touring and meeting consistently new people, generally, I have lots of regular clients. To me, a “regular” is someone I see, as the name implies, on a regular basis. These are people who enjoy their time with me, so they rebook, again and again.
While my physical appearance may have drawn them in, I know it’s who I am that keeps them there. While the “physical activity” part of being an intimacy provider is of course part of the experience, for most of my clients, a larger portion of the time is spent lying in bed talking.
So yes, while my appearance is a factor, it’s how I’m able to connect with people and make them feel that keeps them coming back to me.
To me, that’s a real confidence boost.
I will note that working in this industry also requires a level of confidence going into it. I’m going to touch on this a bit more in the cons, stay tuned.
But for me?
It makes me feel like a fucking badass sexy wonderful human.
#5 - Skills Development
As said, I love the independent work life. While you never know what the future holds, I’m not sure I can ever be an employee again. This entrepreneurial life works for me. And you know what’s great? Being an intimacy provider sets me up to branch into other self-employed opportunities.
I’ve gained such valuable skills in running a business: branding, content creation, marketing, networking, website development, social media management, financial budgeting and tracking…
Not to mention the valuable people skills that help in various industries, and all aspects of life, such as emotional intuition, effective communication, and boundary setting.
From spending time with people, in vulnerable settings, I’ve had many opportunities to practise active listening. I’ve also had many opportunities to practise responding to people’s thoughts and feelings.
When I’m with my clients, for that hour or two or more, I’m fully present. I don’t check my phone or have my own conversations playing in my head. I hold eye contact, I’m engaged in what they’re saying, and I try to provide thoughtful reflections and display empathy.
This practise has allowed me to better pick up on emotions, and know how to react. Both the emotional intuition I’ve developed, as well as effective communication skills, come into play in all sorts of situations. I feel I am a better friend, because of these skills. I feel I could do great in caring careers, like social work or psychotherapy. I even feel it helps with my self-dialogue, allowing me to better analyse my own feelings and react with greater empathy.
Similarly, I’ve had many opportunities to practise boundary setting.
Before beginning your work as an intimacy provider, it’s important to determine the services you will provide; essentially, your boundaries. Some things I’m very comfortable with, so they are part of my “basic package”. Some things I don’t hate, but they’re more taxing on my body, so they are in my “upgraded” aka more expensive package. Some things make me physically and/or emotionally uncomfortable, so they are my restrictions. I don’t do them, regardless of whether people offer more money or not.
So my boundaries are understood by me, and I don’t budge.
When I have a new client inquiry, I send an image which has all of these laid out. Clients will refer to this as our “menu”, which I think is weird, but it’ll be a term you hear so good to be aware of.
Even though they know my boundaries from the get go, when they arrive, I like to reassert them. I do this in a flirty way, asking first if they have anything they particularly like or dislike. Whether or not they throw the question back to me, I’ll then share my limitations. Just a reminder, in case they skimmed the “menu”, or were hoping to pretend they did.
Some clients do try to push these boundaries. I’ve gotten good at correcting them.
Usually a simple reminder, redirecting them, is sufficient. Sometimes, I have to be a bit more firm. On occasion, I will tell a new, pushy client that I won’t be seeing them again, as I didn’t feel respected. Only on one occasion have I had to kick someone out because I felt so uncomfortable with them, but if this is what you want to do, do it.
I will note that while many of these skills are helpful in various fields, I do acknowledge that if being an intimacy provider is your solo undertaking for a period of time, it can be challenging to construct a resume for those who don’t want to out themselves to potential employers.
Something you may need to consider for yourself, but I’m just going to put that as another check beside why staying self-employed is a good option.
#6 - Connection
I really adore vulnerable deep conversations with people. It’s one of my favourite things. And though it’s not like every client and I get right in there, with many, we do. There’s something extra vulnerable about lying naked beside someone; you're physically exposed, so let’s just let the emotional be seen too.
Being an intimacy provider had made me want to be a social worker for a bit. In addition to the business skills above, there’s definitely other professions mixed into the picture. Because we can create such a warm, accepting, confidential space, people feel comfortable to talk. And especially with the way men (the majority gender of my clients personally) are raised in our society, often not having many people in their lives to open up to, we can seem like a safe, accessible option.
And with many of my clients, I gain from them too.
Many of my regulars in particular I genuinely enjoy spending time with. I’ll often think of them outside of bookings, reflecting on things they’ve said to me or hearing about things that make me think of them.
As I am a part of their lives, they are a part of mine. My clients bring unique connections into my life, connections that often feed my wellbeing.
But it’s not just clients I love to connect with.
Intimacy providers are a diverse community, a unique group in which I’ve been so grateful to form beautiful friendships.
It’s a bit of a different profession than what most of our “civie” friends (people outside the industry) can relate to; with the unique challenges that the industry brings, including stigma from larger society, it can feel very isolating to work as an intimacy provider alone.
When I found my industry’s community, I was so happy about how “normal” I felt.
Generally, I love being the uniquely me person that I am. While I love vanilla ice cream, should someone ever refer to me as vanilla, I will not be overly impressed. But in terms of my work, it can get tiring to talk to civies; my work is almost fetishised by some, so different they treat what I do, and therefore me, like I’m shocking.
That can be fun. Sometimes.
But sometimes I want to talk to people who understand me.
When I first started meeting colleagues in my industry, connecting with people who work in similar ways, my stories had less shock value; they related to my experiences.
I found solidarity. That felt, and still feels, really good.
I love what I do. I’m in my eighth year of doing this work, third full-time. I enjoy it, that’s why I continue to do it.
If you’re here because you’re curious about joining me, I’d like you to be able to make an informed choice about how to move forward. I’d like you to know the benefits I’ve found from being an intimacy provider, but also the things I dislike about it.
I’d like to acknowledge that while yes, I’ve found many benefits to working in the industry, there are definitely challenges. Some probably quickly come to your mind, others likely not, if you haven’t done the work yet. These are challenges that I have found do not outweigh the benefits, but again, that’s for me and my life.
Again, these challenges are based on my experiences, influenced by the privileges I hold given my identities.
I’m not here to convince you either way; I’m here to share my knowledge, from my personal experiences, so you can hopefully choose the path that’s best for you.
Five challenges of being in the industry:
#1 - Entrepreneurial financial uncertainty
But Juno, your number one for the positives was making money? Now you’re saying it’s a stressful part of what you do?
Financial instability, or uncertainty, is not unique to being an intimacy provider; it’s part of being self-employed.
Some weeks are great. I far surpass my financial targets, and I get to treat myself to something outside of my budget for having an extra profitable week.
Some weeks… are not so great. While there are things I can do to up my hustle, like being more active on social media or reaching out individually to clients with a little hello and maybe a sexy pic, it’s largely out of my control whether or not the bookings come.
In my own experience, as well as the experiences of my friends in the industry who I’ve chatted about finances with, there are inevitable ebbs and flows to the work. January is often a slow month, perhaps post-holidays having exhausted peoples’ wallets. Usually by mid-spring, things are picking up. I personally don’t get many bookings on long weekends, which I had initially expected to be busier. There are trends I’ve noticed, which I can now expect and budget for. November was super profitable? Remember January likely won’t be, so don’t blow all that money now.
But there are times when, for no apparent reason, things are slow.
I’ve learned to look at my finances over the course of a month, rather than week by week. Generally, things average out nice. But if a lul in bookings or a week full of cancellations is going to stress you out, the entrepreneurial life may not be for you.
The hustle can be stressful.
For me, it keeps me motivated and driven to push myself. For some, it may be a constant source of anxiety.
It’s important to look at your relationship with money and your tolerance for risk. It could be smart to maintain another job while starting out your intimacy business, perhaps shifting to full time as things pick up, but keeping a safety net for until they consistently do.
#2 - Resume gap
Building off of having another job while you work as an intimacy provider: this can be helpful not just for financial stability, but also for your resume.
Personally, I picture myself always working in a self-employed structure moving forwards in life. I love the independence, the hustle, the diversity in my days, and being in charge of my own success. But that may not be appealing for you, or maybe it is right now, but you’re not sure if you want to commit to that forever.
If you think you’ll want to apply for jobs in the future, requiring a resume and some experiences you are comfortable to talk about, having a “cover” job could be helpful. Particularly if you’re not planning to come out as an intimacy provider.
I’d recently applied to go back to school. As you can probably tell, I’m loud and proud about what I do. I put my current vocation on my resume, and talked in my application essay about all I’ve learned from this work. While I declined the admission offer, I did get accepted, even with this on my resume.
But that was an open minded social justice program. Not every industry is as positive about this industry.
If being an intimacy provider is appealing to you not as a long term thing, but as a side hustle to get you in a financially better place, that’s a perfectly valid reason. Keeping another job, at least part time, will help you to better exit the industry and better position you to get the job you deem to be your next step.
#3 - Physical safety risks
I like a fair amount of excitement in my life; I thrive off of thrills. So this in some ways was in my pros, as adventure. But I know this isn’t for everyone, and again my privilege comes into play here. While I am putting my wellbeing at risk, I’m afforded more safety than some of my colleagues.
Picture yourself doing this work, really visualise it. How would you feel getting all dressed up to go to a stranger’s house, alone? Ideally you’re screening your clients first, getting some sort of identification verification or reference from another provider to have some assurance they’re safe. But you never know.
There are all types of people in this big bodacious world of ours. I hope you only meet the kind ones, but you are putting yourself more at risk of meeting the not-so-nice ones.
Next week I’m going to talk about some ways to increase your safety, should you decide to give this work a try, but they aren’t fool proof. If picturing working alone in this industry gives you anxiety, but you’re still curious about the work, starting somewhere like a spa or agency may be a good way to test it out. Often with a team and safety measures in place, there is less risk to your wellbeing.
Or maybe this will always cause an unhealthy amount of anxiety for you. In which case, I hope you’re able to respect your limits and find a way of making money that feels more comfortable for you.
#4 - Emotional safety risks
Again, this point was kind of on my pros list, gaining confidence from the industry, but that’s based on my own experiences. I can definitely see this going the other way for some individuals.
While this work can certainly be empowering, if you’re not in the proper mindset and level of already established confidence going in, it could do quite the opposite.
I have clients who tell me repeatedly in a booking how I’m so [insert compliment], how they enjoy their time with me so much, and who book me again and again, enforcing to me that I’m so wonderful they can’t stop seeing me. Sometimes they bring me gifts, or tip me, or send me a follow up text telling me how meaningful our time together was.
Those clients, those ones make me feel great. You’re spending how much money, regularly, to spend time with little ol’ me? Well yes, I must be pretty fantastic.
Then there are the haters.
For me, these are mainly people online. The clients I meet in real life are generally super great. But comments on my social media can hurt. Getting people reaming me out over text message for not offering services they want, or for having strict screening policies, or just being messed up assholes who have nothing better to do… It happens.
And unsolicited dick pics. Why do you think starting a conversation with a picture of your penis will make me want to book you? Silly boys.
Connecting back to the inevitable instability of entrepreneurial life, this can impact your sense of self-worth too. How come times are slow? Why aren’t people booking me? Can you see this as the nature of the work, or will you take it personally, seeing yourself as “not good enough”?
Yes, there can be an element of empowerment, but you have to come into it with some good critical thinking skills, a strong sense of yourself and your boundaries, and the knowledge that the haters are there and will do what they do regardless of how amazing you really are. It may not be the best industry for you if you’re already struggling to maintain your self of sense-worth.
It’s important to do some good reflection before you make the jump into being an intimacy provider. If this feels like it may further challenge some struggles you’re already dealing with, I greatly hope you will be able to choose a different path for making money.
#5 - Isolation
Surprise surprise, contradicting myself!
I love being an intimacy provider for the sense of connection I receive, both from clients and from my colleagues in the industry. Plus, I’m super gratefully lucky to be out about my work to everyone in my personal life. They’re super supportive, curious, and open to hearing about my journey.
I get to talk about what I do, a lot. I really sometimes just don’t shut up about it.
But it wasn’t always like that for me, and may not be like that for you.
The social stigmatisation of being in the intimacy industry is pervasive. We are misunderstood, judged, and often excluded because of how we choose to make money. People don’t agree with our choice, impose their judgements, and may treat you accordingly.
One hundred percent I understand that it’s not safe for everyone to come out to people in their lives about their new vocation. If it doesn’t feel like you’ll be accepted, so you feel keeping it private is best for you, please do that. Physical harm is not the only form of danger we can experience; humans are social beings, and not having our people support us can be damaging.
If you need another job to be an alibi for how you’re making money, do that. If you need to say you’re going on a date, when you’re really going to see a client, do that. If you need to always blur your face and other identifiable features like tattoos in your online marketing, do that. Do what makes you feel safe.
But also, please, try to make industry friends.
There are unique challenges that come with this work, and having people to talk to about them makes them so much more manageable. And being able to talk about the good things! Even if you’re out to your people in your personal life, they won’t fully understand what it’s like to do the work. Being able to get support from those who get it, and to laugh about a funny client story or gush about a recent fun booking, can really increase job satisfaction.
I didn’t know a single other provider the first five years of working in the industry. Then, I got into the social media world, and everything changed.
I’d thought intimacy providers would be a stuck up, competitive, self-involved group. I’d held the stereotypes in my head that are so prominent in our culture. But you know what I found? The most supportive and caring group of unique individuals I’ve ever had the good fortune to be involved with.
X is like the LinkedIn of this industry. Get on there, network with providers in your area, and ideally move those connections to in-person. Then get ready to not shut up about your work, too.
Hopefully one day the industry will be destigmatised, allowing us to be open about what we do. But until then, find people you can trust and confide in. Community solidarity not only makes the work safer, it makes it a whole lot more fulfilling.
Final Thoughts
I’ve painted a hopefully pretty picture of what working as an intimacy provider looks like for me, based on my own personal experiences.
I’m hopeful that now you have a more informed idea of what it means to be an intimacy provider, both the goods and the bads. These are my thoughts, from my personal experiences, and are definitely not an exhaustive list of how things can look.
A suggestion I’d like to add, when considering entering the industry, is to remain as anonymous as possible online, at least until you’re comfortable with what you do and committed to the identity of being an intimacy provider.
I took quite a few years til I was face out. For the first nearly six years, in all my photos online, I covered my face and blurred all my tattoos. I didn’t want to be discovered, and that’s totally fine.
Once you’re out online, it’s there forever. There’s no going back. With the pervasive stigmatisation of people who do this work, please please please give coming out a lot of thought before doing it.
I’d love for everyone to be proudly open about being an intimacy provider! Let’s talk about it, normalise it, and break down the stigma of what an intimacy provider “is like”.
If that’s safe for you. If you’re ready for it. If you’re committed to always being known as a provider, or someone who did it.
Being an intimacy provider was not what I planned on doing, especially for this long a period of time and with this much commitment to the industry. If you told me a decade ago that this is what my life would look like at 30… I can’t say I’d likely be impressed.
But is anyone living a life that ten-years-ago-them would have expected? Likely not. And honestly if you predicted your life ten years ago… I can’t say I think that’s very positive. At the very least, definitely doesn’t seem thrilling. And we know I love a good thrill.
So yes, likely lil me wouldn’t be too pumped to hear how my life’s been shaping up.
I’m so grateful lil me didn’t get to solidify the future, because while I never would have expected this life for me, gosh darn it I sure do love it.
If you are curious about joining this industry, I hope you found a useful lil nugget in here to help on your journey. If you already have experience in the industry, myself and I’m sure others would love to hear your perspectives. Comment what you like about your work, what you find challenging, and any insights you may have on why someone should or should not try this work.
Should you want to test the waters of being an intimacy provider, please check out my episode next week on industry safety tips. There are inherent risks in the industry, and though my safety practices don’t fully take these away, they have helped me to find respect and empowerment in the work that I do. Hopefully they can help you, too.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on my first public musings, and for you to share with those in your life who you feel may benefit. This industry can be great; this greatness is best obtained when we support one another to achieve it.
Hope to see you next week!
Much love,
Juno
xox
Want to watch it? Check me out on YouTube!
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