I admit...I remember Xaveria Hollander's book. I read it when most of my classmates were still busy with 'Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret'; the first edition. (OK it was probably 8th grade, but still..'splains a lot, hey?) I understand the origin of the phraseology. That doesn't mean I want anyone referring to me or thinking of me as unaware of my oppression and deluded about my choice. Well, no. I'm not. When the government told me that despite being unemployed, virtually unemployable despite my advanced degrees, I was statutorily ineligible for a welfare check, I had no choice but to become a semi professional domme in March of last year. Every month ever after, it is a conscious choice to continue to do so, because I love my life, I love what I do, and why would I go back to working for someone else ever again unless I HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO DO SO? Call me an escort, a courtesan, or a call girl: I am a commercial sex worker by choice.