I Became a Sex Worker

"I Became a Sex Worker" is a quiet, unfiltered confession-
not a shock story or an accusation,
but a record of what it feels like when survival rewrites your life
one night at a time.

The song explores the distance between body and emotion:
a scent that won't wash off,
marks that stay pressed into the skin,
and a voice used like a costume.
Not feeling becomes part of the job,
while the heart continues to wear down in silence.

It captures the exhaustion of being told
"It's easy,"
"It's not wrong,"
or "Why don't you quit?"
as if any of those words could undo the roads already walked.

Yet the song refuses to divide the narrator into victim or sinner.
It acknowledges both the agency and the damage-
the choice made before the self was lost,
and the numbness that followed.

Toward the end, the song shifts.
When the makeup comes off,
what remains is a pair of bare eyes
that finally belong to no one else.

"I Became a Sex Worker" is not about guilt or pride.
It's about endurance,
about living in a world that wears you down,
and reclaiming even a single moment
that is yours alone.