A conversation about the price of a sex coach ended up becoming a debate about qualifications, experience and who gets to decide what another person’s work is worth.
A few days ago, someone contacted me about booking a session.
I sent them information about my work: who I am, what my sessions are like, my boundaries and my rates.
They then looked through my website, watched some of my videos and listened to a few interviews. In one of them, they heard me explain that I had raised my prices over time and that doing so had also helped me select more carefully the people who came to see me.
Their reaction was:
“Wow.”
At first, I did not understand what they meant. They later explained that they were referring to my rates. The prices surprised them because they were not used to them.
And that was where everything began.
After the “wow” came questions about my studies, certificates and the official qualifications I had to call myself a sex coach. They began comparing me with sexologists and other professionals whose university education was officially recognised by the State.
The conversation was no longer about whether my service might be right for them.
It became a discussion about whether I had sufficient qualifications to justify the fees I charged.
Asking Questions Is Fine; Putting Me on Trial Is Different
Anyone considering booking a session with me has every right to ask questions.
They may want to know how I work, what my boundaries are, what training I have or what they can expect from the encounter. We are talking about sexuality, intimacy and the body. Wanting information is both reasonable and responsible.
In fact, they found a contradiction in my message concerning the additional travel fee. They were right. It was a mistake that needed correcting, and I acknowledged it without any problem.
But asking questions to understand something is not the same as turning the conversation into an examination.
I felt that the questions about my training were no longer driven by curiosity, but by a need to find an explanation for my price.
As though my rates could only be valid if they were supported by a sufficiently important official qualification.
As though fifteen years of practical experience had no value of its own.
If It Feels Expensive to You, That Does Not Mean I Charge Too Much
A rate is not objectively expensive or cheap.
It depends on each person’s financial circumstances, priorities, what they are looking for and the value they place on an experience.
What one person cannot afford may be an investment another person willingly chooses to make. My price may not fit your budget or your idea of what a session should cost. That does not mean I am charging too much.
It may simply mean that my service is not for you.
And that is completely fine.
I do not buy everything that exists or hire every service I find interesting, either. But deciding that I cannot or do not want to pay for something does not give me the right to decide that another person’s work is not worth it.
You Are Not Only Paying for Time on a Clock
When someone books a session with me, they are not merely paying for 30 minutes, 1 hour, or 2 hours.
They are paying for my attention, energy, availability, experience and the intimate space I create for them.
They are paying for my ability to observe, adapt, listen and respect their boundaries. They are paying for a personalised encounter that cannot be mass-produced and will never be identical to the previous one.
They are also paying for everything I have learnt through more than fifteen years of working with real bodies.
My rates have evolved alongside me, my experience, demand for my work and the quality of what I offer.
Yes, raising my prices has also helped me select my clients more carefully. It has reduced bargaining, disrespect and encounters with people who believe that paying gives them the right to demand anything they want.
It also allows me to manage my time and energy so that I can be genuinely present during every encounter.
I do not force anyone to pay my rates. I communicate them clearly, and each person makes their own decision.
I Am a Practical Sex Coach
I am not a doctor or a psychologist, and I do not pretend to be one. I do not diagnose medical conditions or replace medical, psychological or clinical sexological treatment.
My work is different.
I am a practical sex coach. I help people understand their bodies and their pleasure, communicate during sex and let go of many of the pressures that prevent them from enjoying themselves.
I work with physical experience and real pleasure.
There may be conversation and listening during my sessions because sexuality is connected to what we think, feel and have learned. But my service is not psychological therapy.
Some people need a psychologist, doctor, clinical sexologist, pelvic-floor physiotherapist or couples therapist.
Others are looking for practical, body-based support like mine.
We do not perform the same work, and we do not need to compete.
Fifteen Years of Experience Is Not “Just Having a Lot of Sex”
Before becoming a sex coach, my path began as a sex worker. I do not hide that part of my life because it is fundamental to understanding who I am and what I know.
Over more than fifteen years, I have met thousands of people, each with a different body, desires, insecurities and boundaries.
I have seen men completely controlled by the fear of losing their erections. Women who had never learnt to express what they enjoyed. People who barely knew their own bodies and others who were so preoccupied with performing that they were unable to feel.
I have also seen how much harm can be caused by pornography, unrealistic expectations and the belief that sex must become a performance.
I have learnt that no two bodies respond in exactly the same way, that what works for one person may mean nothing to another, and that desire changes with age, hormones, health and our stage of life.
That is not simply having had a lot of sex.
It is knowledge developed through thousands of hours of observing, listening, touching, feeling and accompanying real people.
That is knowledge too.
Women’s Sexuality Needs Reality
An important part of my work comes from what I have observed about women’s sexuality.
Many women have been raised to please, remain silent, feel ashamed and expect someone else to discover their bodies when they do not yet know those bodies themselves.
Many have not enjoyed their sexuality as they deserved to. Some have never even learnt that their pleasure matters.
Changing that reality requires more than understanding anatomy. It also means speaking naturally, letting go of taboos, learning to ask for what we want, exploring our bodies and experiencing pleasure from a different place.
Through practice, respect and knowledge of the body, I want my work to help improve that reality.
Training and Experience Are Not Enemies
Defending the value of experience does not mean that I reject education.
For years, I have continued taking courses, reading, researching and learning about human sexuality, sex education, safer relationships, coaching and professional support.
Training has helped me organise what I have learnt, discover new tools and better understand the boundaries of my work.
But a certificate alone does not guarantee sensitivity, humanity, the ability to listen or experience with real bodies.
In the same way, experience alone does not automatically make someone a good professional. It must be accompanied by learning, responsibility, honesty and clear boundaries.
I do not need to dismiss academic knowledge to defend my own.
My training gives me tools.
My experience gives those tools a body and a reality.
I Do Not Have to Justify My Value
During that conversation, I felt as though I had to justify everything: my training, my experience, my profession and, ultimately, my price.
I later realised that I did not need to.
My responsibility is to explain honestly what I do, what I do not do and how much a session costs.
The other person decides whether they want to book.
I do not have to lower my prices to fit everyone’s budget. Nor do I need to collect qualifications to obtain permission to charge what I consider fair for my time, knowledge and experience.
If you value what I can offer, perhaps we can meet.
If my price feels too high or you are looking for a different professional profile, you can choose another option.
But not being able or willing to pay my rate is one thing.
Trying to prove that my work is not worth it is something entirely different.
