We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful David Wichman. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with David below.

David, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. We believe kindness is contagious and so we’d love for you to share with us and our audience about the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you?

I had just been released from prison. I was a longtime street drug addict, and most of my teeth were broken or falling out. A man I had only recently met caught me staring at my reflection, fixated on my teeth. When I noticed him, I quickly turned away in shame and embarrassment.

A week later, he took me to a cosmetic dentist and arranged to have my entire mouth restored. It took five years, multiple surgeries, and several bone grafts. The cost was astronomical. But having my smile restored changed my life forever.

I’ve now been clean and sober for 19 years. That man became one of my closest friends and most loyal supporters. He never blinked at the cost or expected anything in return. His act of kindness forged a lasting friendship that continues to this day. He remains my greatest cheerleader and has watched me soar for nearly two decades.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

David Wichman (aka David-SF)
Award-winning author, speaker, advocate for sexual freedom, and longtime sex worker

My name is David Wichman, also known in some circles as David-SF. I’m an author, speaker and someone who has spent nearly two decades working intimately with men as a sex worker, and a lifetime navigating the terrain of shame, desire, trauma, and self-acceptance. I write and speak from lived experience, often from the margins, and an open heart.

I was raised in Fremont, California, and survived a childhood shaped by severe neglect and physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. That early trauma led me through years of homelessness, addiction, and countless failed attempts at recovery. But in 2005, I found sobriety and have remained in recovery since. My journey is not a straight line—it’s made up of a series of choices, practices, breakdowns, and breakthroughs.

Over the years, I’ve studied a wide variety of spiritual practices, including Buddhism, New Thought (new age)—initially out of a sense of brokenness and longing for relief. These days, what grounds me most is doing the work that feels useful and meaningful in the world. Helping men uncover the parts of them that are unseen and unheard. That’s where I find the space to practice inquiry, reflection, connection and deep listening.

Sex work became a central part of my life in 2006—something I never could have anticipated would become such a profound calling. I’ve had the honor of working with queer men often overlooked by society: elders, people with disabilities such as paraplegics and queer men with cerebral palsy. Most of the men I have worked with are navigating deep sexual shame or disconnection. My work to this day still reveals to me the transformational power of intimacy, especially when it’s met with care, presence, and permission. It taught me that healing doesn’t always look like a process—it can look like a single moment of being seen.

In 2009, I started The Male Adventure, a more higher end experience as a travel companion I take my clients (one on one) all over the world.These are once in a lifetime adventures. Together we swim with humpback whales in Tonga, bungee jump in New Zealand, trek the mountains gorillas in Uganda, and sit quietly among lions in the Serengeti. These adventures are not just about adrenaline or bucket lists—they are about rediscovering aliveness, often in the midst of deep emotional work. Nature has always been a sacred teacher for me, and my connection to conservation and wildlife continues to influence how I approach the human condition.

In 2011, I created and began facilitating a workshop called Sex, Love, and Intimacy: Writing Your Way to New Relationships, which I’ve led at recovery conferences, treatment centers, and retreats across the U.S. and Australia. I’ve always believed in the power of storytelling to unlock new levels of truth. Writing invites us to meet ourselves on the page—and sometimes, for the first time, we find out what’s been waiting to be spoken.

In 2016, I co-founded Heal-VR, a software company that merges ancient spiritual principles with virtual reality. Our aim was to bring deep meditative and healing experiences to people through immersive technology—a reminder that there’s no one way to come home to yourself.

My first book dropped March 10 2020 the day we locked down during the covid-19 pandemic. Every Grain of Sand, is a memoir chronicling my journey through trauma, addiction, sex work, recovery, and the radical act of self-reclamation. Even though we were in the midst of a lock down it still garnered numerous awards, including the 2024 American Legacy Book Award for LGBTQ+ Nonfiction. That recognition affirmed for me that there’s power in telling the whole story—even the parts that still carry a sting. People from all over the world emailed wrote letters and reached out to me with harrowing tales and deeply moving expressions of identifying with my story. However something still burned inside me I really wanted to speak to the very niche demographic of men that I work with and those that may never be able to access the type of work I do, due to finances or place of origin etc. So I went back into my studio for 3 and half years and created my latest book, The Four Rooms: An InQueery on Sexual Freedom and Well-Being,

I like to refer to it as a “non-self help” book. Structured around four inner spaces. We go on a journey through the whole sexual self —The Thinking Mind, The Emotions, The Sacred, and The Body—it explores what becomes possible when we make room for the parts of ourselves often silenced by shame, fear, societal conditioning or inherited beliefs. I don’t offer answers—I offer questions. The four rooms is geared to cultivate curiosity. I share stories, mine and others’, to remind people that sexual well-being doesn’t mean fixing ourselves. It means discovering that we already belong.

I’ve lived in the Palm Springs area for over 13 years with my partner Todd and our three rescue dogs. I’m a proud, vocal member of the LGBTQIA2S+ community and remain deeply engaged in issues affecting queer people, people living with HIV, those in recovery, and those navigating the stigmas surrounding sexuality and identity. I’ve raised funds and awareness for animal welfare organizations, HIV/AIDS services, and support for other-abled communities—causes that have shaped my heart as much as my work.

Everything I do—whether in words, workshops, or the quiet of a one-on-one session—is about creating space. Space for grief, space for erotic desire, space for complexity, space for laughter. I’m not here to fix anyone. I’m here to witness, to question, to walk beside. I don’t know that I have one brand to promote or write about here I just know I have a message of freedom and well-being that does come with a list of requirements to find authenticity but asks us to remember who we are and always have been before we built a fortress around our wounds.

Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?

When the pandemic hit, everything came to a screeching halt. No travel. No clients. No income. I watched the numbers in my bank account sink while debt rose like a tide I couldn’t hold back. The silence that followed the shutdown wasn’t peaceful—it was piercing. No planes overhead, no appointments on the books, no knowing what came next.

I had to make a move—fast.

Somehow, amidst all that panic, I found a lead on rapid COVID-19 tests through a supplier in China. This was before they were widely available. I took a chance, ordered cases, and found myself with a little leverage in a world grasping for safety. That became my entry point back into connection.

I set up a massage table in my backyard, flanked by fans and air filters. I brought my clients outdoors. Nature became my co-therapist, and I returned to work in the only way I could—bare bones and bare hands.

But here’s the part I never expected.

I had these sound bowls—leftover props, really, from a virtual reality project we’d once started called Temple of Sound. They were collecting dust, until I visited a friend who was dying of leukemia. I saw what the sound did for him—how the vibrations settled into his body and brought something deeper than rest. It was presence. Relief. A kind of balm for his pain.

I brought the bowls home and into the backyard with me. I had no formal training, no certification—just instinct and a memory of that moment. I let them ring out during my sessions, trusting what I felt and watching how my clients responded.

Something opened.

Not just in them, but in me.

I hadn’t set out to become someone who did sound baths. I was trying to survive. But what emerged in that makeshift outdoor studio was something fuller than survival. It was care. It was touch. It was the merging of body and sound, stillness and intention. And it allowed me to make enough income to stay afloat and, over time, pay down most of the debt I’d racked up during those early months of chaos.

That pivot—scrappy, strange, and full of heart—wasn’t just about income. It showed me that reinvention doesn’t have to come from ambition. Sometimes it comes from listening, improvising, and letting a bowl ring out in the stillness of a backyard where nothing seems certain—but everything is still possible.

Any stories or insights that might help us understand how you’ve built such a strong reputation?

In all honesty, I was an unknown when I started. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I made a lot of mistakes early on. But one of the first clients I ever saw noticed something in me—something real—and wrote my first online review on a popular site for men seeking companionship from reputable providers.
I hadn’t asked for it. I had just shown up as myself.
Recovery had taught me a few things that became my foundation: Be useful in the rooms you walk into. Lead with integrity. Enter with a mindset of service. I carried that into every encounter, and slowly but surely, word spread. More reviews followed—thoughtful, generous, affirming. People began to notice me. I became known.
And then one day, I got a call from a client I hadn’t seen in a long time. He told me he missed seeing my name on the bulletin board, so he took it upon himself to write a glowing (but fake) review to “bump me up.” He was proud of his “genius idea.”
I wasn’t amused.
I immediately asked him to retract it—and told him never to do that again. I didn’t want anything fake associated with my work. I wanted to earn every word written about me. I believed then—and still do—that showing up with honesty and doing good work is what builds a solid reputation. Not shortcuts.
Later that evening, the owner of the review site called me directly. He told me he gets 50 to 100 fake reviews a week—but this was the first time anyone had ever contacted him to report one and take accountability.
The client had confessed. I had demanded he take it down. And word of that conversation spread quickly through the forums.
It was a weird twist, but it ended up building trust in a way I never could have planned. Kind of by accident—but all rooted in integrity.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.davidsworld.me/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/davidsworld.me/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/themaleadventure

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