Most of us, when we've made a poor choice that has led to pain in our lives (and that most people agree is a poor choice, like getting into prostitution) will get defensive. We will put up a front to the wider community about that choice. We're not going to say, poor me, I'm trapped, I can't believe I got myself into this situation, I feel beaten down. Instead pride kicks in.
Plus when traumatised, most of us don't even know we are, we just know that something isn't right with us and our mental health isn't good. We start drinking too much, we make self sabotaging choices, we live our lives out of fear and anxiety.
And we feel trapped because we feel our only other choice is to stack shelves in Asda and that just isn't going to pay the bills we now have. We tell ourselves that we need this job to survive in spite of how we feel about it.
Don't speak for how most sex workers feel if you've never been one or had direct experience working with them. Instead do some research into the actual lives of real sex workers. Rachel Moran's book is a great place to start.
It's also interesting to note that the people the OP knows in the sex industry are trans (so someone who was once a male.) We all know that men are able to compartmentalise sex better than us women (this is partly down to women releasing lots more oxytocin when they are touched and have sex...men don't, and so they don't feel the bonding effect as strongly as women.) Men who transition won't suddenly start releasing more oxytocin during sex like women do.
Plus the trans person in question is a dominatrix and may even have no personal contact/sex with the clients?
The OP also cites someone who is a stripper - again, not someone who is having sex for money.
So there is a spectrum here regarding what people are willing to do for money. And some sexual activities are clearly less harmful than others.
The OP's partner had sex with women in third world countries. It's not the same as whipping some dude who doesn't get to touch you. It's not quite the same as taking your clothes off for someone but not allowing them to touch you.
(I worked with former sex workers.)