I am afraid of being sexually harassed every time I go to work

As the strobe lights pulsed, the energy of the club was was buzzing.

I was on stage as a go-go dancer at the Circa club in Embankment wearing only a jockstrap – and it was a very busy Saturday night.

Suddenly I felt a hand reach out from the crowd and stuff a camera phone into my underwear. To my horror, I saw that this woman was taking a video.

Thankfully, a security guard reacted quickly and pulled her out of the venue. I heard him tell her how inappropriate this was.

This moment is burned into my memory. But unfortunately it is not an isolated case.

You must understand that it is physical assault for people, especially women, to think they have the right to touch me while I’m at work.

Since 2010, I have been taking part in promotional events – performing at Gay Pride events, advertising underwear brands in stores – and modelling for gay magazines and charities such as the Terence Higgins Trust.

These types of performances are all about getting everyone’s attention, so I almost always walk around in my underwear or wearing a harness or undershirt, and I want people to go into a frenzy when they see me scantily clad.

But it wasn’t until I became a go-go dancer that I became a victim of assault.

I started dancing in mid-2021. I had just split up with a partner and wanted to do something challenging that would get my heart rate racing.

My first booking was at WE PARTY London at Brixton Electric in front of 1,500 people. I was awful – I’d never done anything like it before and was trying to find my feet (literally) on stage (I ran out of moves very quickly).

Nevertheless, it was one of the best experiences of my life. My adrenaline level rose like never before and the crowd was so welcoming and friendly.

My busiest year was 2022, when I danced about 80 times – at least once a week. I’ve traveled to Italy, Sweden, and Barcelona to dance, to name a few, but I’ve noticed a disturbing trend.

When I gogo dance at a queer-friendly venue and the crowd seems very “straight,” I notice an increase in the number of people testing boundaries and touching me—this is especially true for straight women, especially when they’re drunk.

The first time it happened, I was handing out tickets at a a really small venue where everyone was pushing past each other; I felt someone pinch my butt.

I thought maybe someone had picked the wrong person because the venue was so crowded. However, it happened repeatedly throughout the night and I felt like a piece of meat, I found it very objectifying.

Since then, my butt has been pinched and groped more times than you can imagine.

A customer once grabbed my nipples. I didn’t call security because it was too crowded and I was late for my gig, but I slapped her hands away. She looked shocked, but I would not tolerate her harassing behavior.

On another occasion, someone jumped on stage without me, completely uninvited, and began bumping into me and rubbing me during my performance, trying to touch me.

The man was extremely drunk and sweating like there was no tomorrow. I can still remember his sticky fingers on me – it was anything but glamorous and I was disgusted.

Security took him off the stage and told him that if this happened again he would be ejected from the venue.

Believe it or not, my worst experiences have been at Pride events.

In 2022, I was gogo dancing in the window of a Soho bar at Pride London. All night, a woman nearby had been dancing wildly and seemed fixated on me.

Suddenly her gaze fixed on me with a predatory gleam, and as I approached the edge of the platform she lunged at me.

Her hand grabbed the waistband of my underwear and tried to pull it down. She succeeded, and I was defenseless against the audience.

Time seemed to pass more slowly. First came the shock, a cold jolt that took my breath away. Then came the anger, a hot wave that consumed me. I had been hurt in the room that was supposed to be about self-expression.

Before I could say anything – before I even had time to think – she was dragged out of the club by security.

Surprisingly, women at hen parties are often quite considerate compared to some LGBTQ+ environments. I haven’t worked at many hen parties but it seems like there is more respect there and as a gay man it’s amazing to me that this is the case.

However, I do not understand why some women feel the need to commit such acts of aggression, especially since women themselves experience such harassment or assault. One third of women (35%) have experienced unwanted physical contact of a sexual nature in public, compared to 9% of men.

In the past, I never said anything because I didn’t want to feel like I was spoiling the fun, and I gave people the benefit of the doubt if I thought they were under the influence of alcohol.

But the more experience I gained as a dancer, the more credible I became and I began to realize my worth and importance.

Then I started saying no and telling people to stop. I even pushed people’s hands away and gave them a threatening look – after giving people a dirty look, I usually get an apology.

I would never touch someone I don’t know without their consent and expect to be treated the same way. Gogo dancing can be fun and empowering, but harassment is a serious problem and many dancers I’ve worked with have had similar experiences – wandering hands, offensive comments and the ever-present threat of physical violence.

We deserve better, and that’s why I’m sharing my story – to start a discussion about consent.

Venues are responsible for the safety of artists, security guards must be vigilant and guests must be held accountable.

When you enter a queer space, be respectful of the people who work and socialize there, as well as other bar patrons.

The idea of ​​consent should not be lost as soon as you enter an LGBTQ+ space.

And you have no right to touch other people, even if you believe that person has a romantic interest in you.

Have some respect.

MORE: I came out as transgender and released a duet with my former self

MORE: I ran throughout my entire pregnancy and it made me feel better

MORE: This quiet little island off the coast of France comes alive for Pride festival

This website is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.