I'm a Whore.

I saw a TikTok the other day that made me laugh, cringe a little, and then unexpectedly punch me right in the chest.

A guy pulls up to a sex worker sitting in her car.

He rolls down the window and asks, “How much for you to tell me you’re proud of me?”

She pauses for a second, names a price, and then starts talking to him softly. Tells him she’s proud of how hard he’s working. Proud of how he keeps going even when life is exhausting. Proud of him for trying.

And the man starts crying.

Not dramatic movie crying. Not manipulative crying. Just that quiet, overwhelmed kind of crying that leaks out when somebody touches a wound you forgot you had.

Then the next scene comes.

Another guy asks how much it costs for her to let him “go out with the boys.” Suddenly they’re pretending to be a couple in the middle of an argument outside a hotel room. He’s pleading his case like a teenager asking for the car keys. She resists. He negotiates. Finally she sighs and says, “Fine. Go have fun with your friends.”

The guy lights up like he just won the lottery. He’s practically glowing. There’s even the joke that he gets hard over finally receiving approval.

It’s ridiculous.
And honestly?
It’s also painfully real.

Another man pays just to hear someone say they appreciate the sacrifices he makes for his family. Someone notices him. Someone sees the pressure sitting on his shoulders. Someone says thank you out loud.

And suddenly this silly little comedy sketch stops feeling silly at all.

Because underneath the joke is something a lot of men are starving for.

Affection.
Validation.
Praise.
Permission to feel wanted.
Permission to feel enough.

A lot of us are walking around emotionally dehydrated while pretending we’re perfectly fine.

Men are often taught to communicate love sideways. Through teasing. Through sarcasm. Through buying things. Through fixing problems. Through showing up. But direct emotional affirmation? Saying “I’m proud of you” out loud? Looking another man in the eye and complimenting him without wrapping it in a joke first?

That still makes people uncomfortable.

Especially in male spaces.

Especially among straight men who were taught vulnerability is dangerous.
But honestly? Gay men aren’t always much better at it.

We’ll compliment abs before we compliment resilience.
We’ll thirst over somebody’s body before acknowledging their heart.
We’ll tell someone they’re hot in half a second flat, but freeze up when it comes to saying:
“You’ve been carrying a lot lately.”
“You’re doing a good job.”
“I’m glad you’re still here.”

That kind of intimacy scares people far more than sex does.

And look, I get it.
Some of us grew up in homes where praise only showed up after achievement. Some of us only heard affection when somebody was drunk, dying, or trying to apologize for something horrible. Some men genuinely cannot remember the last time another adult told them they were proud of them.

So we joke.
We posture.
We become “too cool.”
We turn emotional hunger into memes because it’s safer than admitting we need anything.

But maybe we do need things.

Maybe the reason that TikTok hit so hard is because so many people immediately recognized themselves in it.

Not because they secretly want to hire somebody to fake-love them for an afternoon.

But because they’re tired.
Because they want softness.
Because they want someone to notice that they’re trying.

There’s something deeply human about wanting to be seen.

And honestly, we should probably be doing a much better job of that for each other.

Tell your friends they matter.
Compliment men without turning it into a roast.
Tell somebody you admire the way they handled something difficult.
Tell your dad he did something right.
Tell your partner you notice the effort.
Tell your buddy you’re proud of him for surviving a brutal year.

We are way too stingy with words that cost us absolutely nothing.

The older I get, the more I realize people are carrying entire invisible wars inside themselves while still showing up to work, answering texts, buying groceries, making dinner, and pretending they’re okay.

A genuine compliment can hit like morphine when somebody’s been emotionally limping for years.

So yeah.
Maybe we’re all whores.

Not for sex.
Not for money.

Maybe we’re just desperately hungry for connection, reassurance, affection, approval, tenderness, and the occasional gold star from another human being who sees us clearly for one damn second.

Honestly?
Same.