the intro...

Hello and welcome to my blog! I’m your hostess, Ladyface.

I'm a 27 year old queer femme sex worker. Between my fancypants day job and my super sexy side gig I spend a lot of time being an attentive, diplomatic Ladyface so this blog is where I’ll let my hair down...I might even curse. Though I curse like a kitten sneezes, which is too say it's infrequent and harmless and still shocks me more than anyone.

I am a sex positive lady and will write candidly about my kinks, my history, my exploits and my daily life (but only the good stuff). And so that I can write as openly as possibe, I'm keeping this space anonymous. All characters are real people in my life but all names are pseudonyms and always will be.




P.S. you can now follow me on Twitter! @1ladyface

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Parental Prejudices (and puppies!)

I haven’t told my parents that I’ve started stripping but I have hinted. Heavily. So I figure they’ll figure it out when their brains let them piece it together.  This is what our conversations sound like now:

Mom: So what are you up to this weekend?
Me: I'm doing my first intermediate pole class Friday, Saturday I go on a date with a lovely lady and Sunday I’m getting my bikini line lasered.
Mom: Oh, how did you two meet?
Me: At a strip club.
Mom: Oh Ladyface.
Me: Mom there’s nothing wrong with dancing.
Mom: But it’s so gross, all those dirty old men.
Me: When was the last time you went to a strip club?
Mom: Never!
Me: Well I’ve been to about 20 and there are some I’d never go back to but there are several in town that are actually pretty great. Safe, fun, sex positive.
Mom: Eww. Just promise me you’ll never take your clothes off.
Me: [silence]
Mom: Ladyface! You’d never do that. Right?!
Me: I’m still gonna shower.
Mom: [laughing] Oh my god, you scared me.

Maybe she never has to know. But she’s already pestering me about finding a job in SF. And she’s concerned that I can’t afford to move. Really, I could move today if I wanted to but I’m committed to my day job through May. Ironically the club I work at is a hell of a lot safer than the dive bar I bartended at and she was thrilled when I started there.

So…I dunno. Is coming out necessary? Who does it serve? Is it selfish to come out if the alternative is just enduring a bit more well-meaning nagging than usual? My mum is a CPA and does my taxes so I suppose she’ll find out next year when I’ll have tax documents from the club I’m working at and clips4sale.  Unless I can come up with a good excuse to take care of that stuff myself.

On a lighter note, we talked about the
Favorite Child

Mom: The Doodle doesn’t like other dogs very much. He’s more of a people person.
Me: Mom, your dog isn’t a person.
Mom: Oh, yes. Well, you know what I mean. 

Later in the same call:

Me: Dad, I’m hungry, what should I eat?
Dad: Peanut butter! Doodle and I really like peanut butter.
Me: I was thinking more like a meal.
Dad: ...peanut butter and jelly?

Oh parents. I love how much you love that pretty pup.  =3 

And if there were a backwards three on the keyboard that would look more like a dog bone.


  1. How would it serve you to be out to your folks? I mean, if you're not burning for that disclosure right now, it might not be the time. Maybe that's my bias - I like to think of disclosure as a privilege given to another as much as a political and liberating act. Anyway, I'm with your dad. PB is a meal in itself.

  2. "I like to think of disclosure as a privilege given to another as much as a political and liberating act." I like this. Thanks, I think you're absolutely right. Though I'm not convinced that peanut butter counts as a meal...