What a Stripper Taught Me About Power, Confidence, and Control

A reel popped up while I was scrolling through Instagram. It showed a young woman who studies law by day and works as a stripper by night. I watched it out of curiosity, and then, almost involuntarily, I clicked on the comments. I’m not even sure what I was looking for: outrage? judgement? something supportive? Horny men? Surprisingly, most of the comments were respectful or even admiring. That alone intrigued me.

So I watched another reel. And another. Before I knew it, I was ten videos deep. And somewhere in that scroll-spiral, I was suddenly reminded of something: the time I went on a red-light tour in Frankfurt.

Frankfurt, Feminism and First Assumptions

A few years ago, a friend and I joined a walking tour of Frankfurt’s red-light district. It was led by a journalist who had spent years researching and writing about sex work. At first, I was skeptical, judgmental, even. My mind was filled with assumptions: that most of the women must be forced into it, that they were victims, that this was a shadowy underworld fueled by desperation.

And I was suspicious of the men too. I remember watching them and wrinkling my nose: Why has the world made space for centuries-old traditions where men could buy pleasure and leave morality at the door? Why is that still normalized?

But then, I listened. We spoke to women who worked in the brothels. Some rented rooms for a few hours, others for the night. They had access to panic buttons, hallway surveillance, and on-site security. Some described their work as transactional, safe, and a way to remain financially independent. One woman, a domina, spoke to us in full latex gear. She told us her clients often didn’t want sex at all. Most just wanted to talk, to be listened to. She liked her job. She liked the control.

That conversation cracked something open in me. The assumptions I walked in with didn’t fully hold. The picture wasn’t black and white. It was layered.

The last stop was a strip club. I’d never been in one before. By then, I was humbled. We watched from the back, sipping cocktails. Three men in suits sat near the stage. One of them looked uncomfortable, the other two egged him on to buy a private session. I hated watching that. The coercion. The entitlement. The slap on the dancer’s body like she was an object. When the curtain closed behind them, I looked away. I didn’t want to imagine what went on behind it.

Back to the Reel: Agency, Algorithms, and Unexpected Empowerment

And now, years later, I’m back on Instagram, watching a law student talk about stripping, openly, confidently, unapologetically. She explains the house rules at her club, her own boundaries, the money she makes, the sense of power she feels. She hangs out with coworkers backstage, shares makeup, laughs, life advice.

I’m in awe of her. Not because she’s a stripper, but because she’s so fully herself. It reminds me of my time working a marketing job for Beducated, a platform focused on sex education. One of my tasks was to recruit course creators. That’s how I ended up interviewing a professional dominatrix over Zoom. 

It sounds like something out of a Netflix show, I know. And honestly, it felt like it sometimes. At first, I was the shy girl in the digital room. But she welcomed all my questions. She told me how she got into the field, what she loves about it, and why she feels most confident when she’s fully in control.

What surprised me most was how many stories came back to the same thing: confidence. Comfort in their bodies. Freedom to choose. Power in their voice.

It was never really about sex. It was about being seen, but on their own terms.

And maybe that’s what draws me to these stories. It’s not the taboo. Not the shock value. It’s the honesty. The self-possession. The way these women don’t ask for permission to exist. They just do with all their rules and contradictions and rituals. They take up space in a world that often tries to shrink us.

Agency vs. Exploitation: What We Don’t See on Reels

But of course, that’s not the whole story. Not everyone in sex work is there by choice.

90% of sex workers in Germany are female, half of them are migrants, and many face structural vulnerabilities like poverty, legal uncertainty, or limited access to social services. 
A 2024 comment by the Commissioner of Human Rights highlighted that coercion, trafficking, and economic pressure remain widespread, even in countries where sex work is legal. 

The contrast is stark: one woman dances by choice, while the other dances because she has no other option. Both experiences are real. Both exist in the same industry.

That duality matters. As viewers, followers, and allies, we should create space for both.

The Real Power Play

What stays with me isn’t the pole or the lap dance. It’s the theme that keeps resurfacing: control.

For many women in these professions, empowerment doesn’t mean seeking attention. It means owning the narrative, deciding the terms, defining who you are in a world that’s spent centuries doing that for you. And while I’ll never fully understand what it’s like to do that work, I understand the desire to be seen, respected, and free.

So maybe that’s what drew me in. Not the heels or latex or the algorithm. Maybe it was the echo of something I’m still learning myself: that confidence is political, and that there’s power in claiming space, no matter what kind of room you’re in.

Photo: Valeria Boltneva via Pexels