It’s late on a Saturday night and I’ve just left my client’s house after spending another wonderful night together. Let’s call her Cathy. Cathy has been seeing me for a couple of years now and despite our long professional relationship, we often remark about how close we are, as we continually learn more and more about each other with each booking. She is a bit different when compared to my typical clientele in that she is quite young (in her early 30s) but sadly she is also very similar because a few years ago she was subjected to a violent attack at the hands of a man she thought she could trust.

I often wonder why women who have fallen prey to violent men make the decision to book me and have always assumed the obvious – that they want to experience lovemaking in a safe, controlled environment with someone they can trust – but after chatting to Cathy and others with similar stories, I now realise it goes far deeper than that.

My clients have told me that violence stripped them of their sense of self and left them feeling worthless, isolated, and cripplingly insecure. If sexual abuse also took place, they say they felt as though they were denied their right to choose – denied the ability to make their own decision about who they trusted their bodies with, and how much of their bodies they were willing to share. They speak of a seemingly irreversible self-hatred for mistakes they believe they made, and if there were children involved as well, they find it even harder to forgive themselves for staying with their violent partner and not walking out sooner under the guise of it being in the best interests of their children.

I’ve come to see through my clients that given time, women are amazingly resilient and can once again believe they are worthy of being desired, feminine, and sexy, and this often leads them to seek the services of a professional lover like myself. Their ages range anywhere from the late 30s to the early 50s, and any children they have are usually now independent – which is perhaps what gives them the emotional space to finally concentrate on their own wellbeing after a lifetime of caring for others. Some of the women who contact me are also thinking about dating again and they look to me for guidance in the bedroom so that they can approach future partners with more confidence. Many others, however, have no interest whatsoever in becoming involved with another man and prefer to remain independent. Regardless of their future intentions, however, they all desire the pleasures of intimacy – but with someone who is emotionally predictable who will only come when called upon and never otherwise.

Spending time with an escort isn’t some magical experience that erases the pain from one’s past of course. We’re not an antidote to a lifetime of low self-esteem, fear, and confusion. In a sense, the decision to book time with a professional lover is a significant step in emotional rehabilitation; a moment where love and compassion for oneself is finally allowed. My clients tell me they feel empowered, and that they have finally forgiven themselves just enough to allow the possibility of love to seep back into their lives. When we meet, however, I am always conscious of how significant that moment is, and of the anxiety and self-doubt that persists. We move slowly and always at my client’s preferred pace with frequent check-ins and reassurances the norm. In almost every situation, both of us part ways with a wonderful sense of pride and achievement coupled with a secret knowledge that we will always share a small, but deep connection for many years to come. The ladies I see are under no illusion that what we share is a temporary professional arrangement mind you, but it’s quite often an extremely emotional and therapeutic suspension of time and space that we both feel very deeply nonetheless.

Now all of this sounds quite heavy I admit, but in reality, the experience is quite innocent and carefree. Our interactions are often cute, clumsy, and perhaps even delightfully awkward. We might have a few drinks, we might even dance, but we will definitely talk – and talk a lot. In general, however, the scenario is exactly as you would imagine it to be for two strangers bonding in a short period of time. The main difference for the client, I hope, is that she knows she is in an environment of zero judgement where she is free to say as much or as little about her past traumas as she wishes. I can’t pretend to understand the sheer terror many of my clients have experienced and I am in no position to offer them advice or any solutions, but together, we can create our own intimate, loving bubble – a sanctuary in which my clients can shed the notion of being somehow unworthy or tainted and can instead feel free to finally realise how beautiful and deserving they always were.


  • Vanessa Smith says:

    After leaving domestic violence in 1997, my children and I are still living the legacy of the fractured mother / child relationship.
    I’ve come a long way but still have trust issues with men and stick with superficial encounters and short lived affairs so that I can delude myself into some sort of intimacy without too much emotional exposure.
    Good article.

    • admin says:

      Thank you for your comment, and for your honesty Vanessa. I’m so sorry you experienced what you did and I’m sure your child or children will understand why you left when you did. It was a brave move and I have no doubt you made the right decision. There’s nothing wrong with keeping your relationships light and protecting your heart. I do the same thing. I wish you all the very best. Thank you.

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