Liara Roux on her confessional, capitalism-skewering book Whore of New York

“There’s a perennial debate about whether or not sex work would exist under communism. It’s a tiresome question,” writes Liara Roux in her memoir, Whore of New York: A Confession. “There will always be people who want to pay for sex. There will always be people willing to sell it. Something more interesting: under communism, how many people would voluntarily work their current jobs?”

It’s a razor sharp argument against, as Roux says, the “strange fixation” on the sex work debate – and gives you a taste of the sex worker, writer, and activist’s politically astute debut book. Part memoir, part capitalist critique, part defence of sex workers rights (and part ode to the healing power of psychedelic drugs), Whore of New York is a deeply personal look at sex, labour, and power.

Amid her thoughtful philosophical musings and shrewd social observations, Roux shares spellbinding anecodotes about the sexy, glamorous side of being a sex worker – she describes herself as a “first class pampered pet” who lives on a “diet of Michelin stars” and falls in love with a series of beautiful dommes at play parties. But she also grapples with the darker facets of the job. Some are stomach-churning: a client whose “poorly washed cock” oozes “yellow and chunky cum”. And some are harrowing: her sex worker friend who finds the job traumatic. While others offer an agonising look at the stark realities of some of those in the industry: under 18s who use fake ID to work; undocumented workers who sell sex to pay off a debt.

These nuanced explorations of a much-maligned industry are vital when it comes to conversations about sex work – particularly when they’re anchored by contrasting stories of tender, joyous sex worker adventures. “It’s like any other job, there are aspects to be critiqued, but anyone who loves their job should have a right to love it,” Roux tells Dazed. “And those experiences don’t necessarily detract from each other.”

Roux also ruminates on the highs and lows of her personal life. She details the throbbing exhaustion from overworking, the slow, gut-wrenching realisation that she’s in an abusive relationship, and reflects on heart-breaking moments from her childhood where she felt neglected and disbelieved. But she also expresses gratitude for her eye-opening conversations with her therapist, her reblossoming relationship with her mother, and celebrates her intimate, life-affirming friendships.

Here, Roux chats to Dazed about what she wanted to say with Whore of New York, how it feels being so vulnerable with the world, and how her work has changed her perception of men and masculinity.

What were you hoping readers might take away from Whore of New York when you were writing it?

Liara Roux: My main goal was to help people think about sex work in a different way. Obviously a lot of people aren’t doing this work, but in society, there is still a lot of assumptions about the backgrounds of sex workers, why people get into work, and people’s experiences while working. My story falls somewhat outside of that typical narrative. So, I think it’s important for more and more sex workers to start writing about their lives and how sex work fits into it, because so many people just have no idea.

Have any of the memories, experiences, or relationships detailed in the book now taken on a new meaning for you?

Liara Roux: Yeah – my relationship with (my ex-wife) Anna. We’d gone through a break-up shortly before (I wrote the book), and it was really helpful for me to just write everything down. At first, I didn’t even want her to be in the book at all, and I was trying to write around the relationship. But then I realised that I had to write about it because it’s such a part of my time doing sex work. Laying it all out and starting to put it into a narrative, I was like, ‘Oh, wow, this was actually even more fucked up than I thought it was’.

“Using the word people would throw at me, applying it to myself, and smirking on the cover, it’s like, what can they say?” – Liara Roux

When you’re involved in it, it’s hard to see it from an outsider’s perspective.

Liara Roux: Being in a relationship with someone who’s very manipulative, you don’t (necessarily see it while you’re in it). Like, my editor kept saying to me, ‘You need to include more about why you stayed in this relationship, because what you’re writing just seems so terrible. Why wouldn’t you leave?’ And actually that’s the part of the book that a lot of people have been relating to, perhaps more so than anything to do with sex work, because a lot of people have experiences staying in abusive relationships. It can be really hard to leave – and it can be shocking once you’re out of it to look back and see what you put up with, from a new perspective.

How has it felt to be so open and vulnerable about these experiences?

Liara Roux: I was really terrified publishing (the book). I was worried that I would get a lot of hate mail or harassment – but I actually get less harassment now than I used to, which is sort of funny. I used to get a lot of people offended about my job, saying awful things or trying to troll me – the title of the book was even so inviting of that. But using the word people would throw at me, applying it to myself, and smirking on the cover, it’s like, what can they say? So it’s been a lot more positive than I was expecting.

In the book, you talk about enjoying your work, but you never feel the need to offer a defence of that enjoyment. Has this self-assurance been a journey for you?

Liara Roux: I’ve always been really open minded. I’m the type of person who gets a perverse pleasure out of enjoying something that would disgust most people, like eating grasshoppers or whatever. So, in some ways, that’s part of why I was drawn to sex work, because it was something that people deemed so terrible, but I never understood why. And having done it now, I’m just like, yeah, I truly do not understand why.

That attitude definitely comes through in the book. You do also grapple with the difficult questions about sex work – undocumented women working to pay a debt, underage workers using fake ID, a colleague who finds her work traumatic – why was it important to offer such a nuanced, whole picture of sex work?

Liara Roux: Because it wouldn’t be an honest portrayal of sex work to say that everyone is super happy about it and loves it 100 per cent of the time. I’ve met so many people who really hated it, and were looking to get out of the industry as soon as possible. While my experience is different, if I hadn’t included that sort of thing, I would have gotten a lot of critique from people who aren’t as in to sex work – and that would have been really valid! It’s like any other job, there are aspects to be critiqued, but anyone who loves their job should have every right to love it. And those experiences don’t necessarily detract from each other.

Absolutely, and many people don’t afford sex workers that same ability to critique aspects of their work, without conflating that with a denouncement of the industry as a whole.

Liara Roux: It’s because it’s very political. It’s something that’s intentionally done by opponents of sex workers – an argument technique intended to delegitimise sex workers and create these two opposing classes: sex workers who either hate it, or are privileged and love it, but are probably lying about it. It’s a bad faith argument. They try to make this polarising issue instead of exploring the nuances, because it’s easier to convince people to be against something if you make a clean, easy-to-digest narrative.

“Sex work made me really pity certain types of men” – Liara Roux

One of the most beautiful elements of the book is its portrayal of female friendships – especially the unique bond between sex workers, which feels like something those outside of the industry don’t hear much about. How essential is community to your work?

Liara Roux: It would be incredibly isolating (without it). I don’t know if I would have been able to stick it out in the industry if I hadn’t had friends who I could vent to. These are people who would come over to my place for Christmas or Thanksgiving. When I wasn’t on particularly good terms with my family, they functioned as my family – and they still do! I have friends who are sex workers who, if I was in the hospital, I’d probably call them before I called my mom. And that wouldn’t be because I don’t love my mom, or I don’t think she would be there for me, but (my sex worker friends) would be the first people I think of. It’s hard to think of other communities or jobs where people connect in this really deep way, and that’s because we face stigma from society. We really have to band together. It’s similar to a lot of queer communities – if you’ve been rejected by your family, you have to find it elsewhere.

How has your work influenced your perception of men and masculinity?

Liara Roux: I already had very low respect for men before I started doing sex work. I used to joke that whenever men would talk, I would automatically assume that they were exaggerating – which, honestly, I think is the case. Whereas, when women speak, I’m more inclined to believe them, just because I think there’s a lot more (for them) to lose if they’re wrong. In conversation, women are less likely to say something ridiculous without knowing what they’re talking about. Doing sex work has really reinforced that. And I’m glad I was already a little incredulous, because clients will say bizarre things they don’t mean. If anything, sex work has made me more empathetic, because I got to see, in this really visceral way, how pathetic some of these men are. Just like, unable to take care of themselves. Sex work made me really pity certain types of men.

In the book, you talk about the emotional labour that comes with your job. How do you look after your own mental health after a particularly intense session?

Liara Roux: Doing a lot of grounding before and after – and even during – a session was always really important. Especially towards the end of my career, when I was doing my own bookings, I’d often only take one new client a day, because I needed to know that if it was really intense, I could just decompress for the rest of the day afterwards. It can be really emotionally intense holding space for people who are dumping on you, and who might have no idea how to process things with you – or even that they’re processing things with you.

You speak a lot about power dynamics between sex workers and their clients in the book – for example, how submissives might attempt to manipulate their dommes into certain activities, despite supposedly wanting to be powerless to them. Do you think sex can be separated from power?

Liara Roux: I do think it can be, and I’ve definitely had a lot of sexual experiences where power’s not the intent in any way. The power plays that people can have around sex might make it more exciting in some ways, but it can also really destroy intimacy. When you’re able to have sex that’s really intimate, and that lets you care for each other, it’s really beautiful and healing.

Liara Roux’s Whore of New York: A Confession is out now, via Repeater Books