Why it's hard to date an Escort
Why is it so hard for providers to have successful, long term intimate relationships? It’s a question I’ve pondered for years, through the filter of my own experiences and observations made about others as well. I still don’t have a totally clear answer that makes sense and explains it all sufficiently. I am also limited by only really being able to speak for myself, so bear that in mind. Others my feel differently and each situation is certainly unique.
First Relationship as an Escort
The first of these was the boyfriend I was with before I started to escort. When we got together, he lived in a totally different city than I did and I didn’t know anything about the escorting business and had no exposure to it at that time. I had put my AD up online about 3 days before leaving for the weekend to see him. (we started dating about 3 months before I decided to become an escort). When the AD went up I basically was out of town with him and my phone was ringing non stop.
I returned home without telling him anything about my ad or that I was becoming an escort. I rode out the relationship for about 4 more months until I just couldn’t keep the secret and continue to go see him every weekend. My stories were not going to add up right. So I broke up with him. I never gave him a reason to why I was breaking up. I just did. And that was that. I don’t think he knows to this day that I escort.
The Five Year Relationship
This one was the last relationship and it was a mind fuck!! He knew I used to be in the business (as I had just had a baby and in my mind I was thinking about going back but hadnt made the descion too yet) After my son was a year old and him and I were dating for a few months, I got back into the business. He didnt like it but what was he going to say. He enjoyed me taking care of him. But It created tons of problems for us. He grew super needy. So much so that he practically followed me to the damn bathroom and from room to room as I moved about the house we were staying in together. It was maddening.
I’m the type of person who very much requires their own space and a fair amount of “me” time spent in solitude just zoning out on something I enjoy doing, so this kind of behavior leaves me feeling smothered rather quickly.
Because his neediness is getting on my nerves but I don’t want to say anything, it creates an unspoken tension between us that hangs in the air, making it thicker until one of us is forced to gasp and scream at the other.
This would often erupt when he approached me for sex in the midst of all that tension. I was less than receptive. I’d turn him down and he would immediately get upset, blaming my lack of interest on the sex I was having with clients.
It wasn’t that. It was the way he was acting. It did not put me in the right mood and I knew he’d freak out about it like he did, which made it even less appealing. He wanted me to stop escorting, though he wasn’t working at the time. I never understood that whole thing, but whatever.
I wasn’t going to let anyone tell me I wasn’t allowed to work or tell me what kind of work I could and couldn’t do, so I basically told him to take a hike. We needed money for a long list of things and he wasn’t doing anything about that, so I was doing it instead.
How could he complain when he had no alternative to offer?
As our fragile relationship circled the drain, everything just got so bad that I couldn’t stand it anymore. When I got back from seeing clients, he would sometimes chase after their car as they pulled out of the driveway. I had to start asking them to pick me up down the road to avoid this.
He would call me a “whore” and put me down when I got back to the house, stealing things out of my hand and bullying me in the most childish ways. We destroyed things that belonged to each other, we were on a path of absolute destruction.
At one point during a fight, I locked him out and he actually kicked the front door down. That same night, I threw something of his outside and it shattered. He was so angry he jumped up over the back of the couch and started strangling me. I started to wonder if he would realize what he was doing and stop after a couple of moments and he finally did.
Things were kind of just ruined at that point. I had to get away from him, so that’s what I did.
The moral of this first story? Most people can’t handle being in an intimate relationship with a provider. It requires a rare breed of individual and you can’t fairly expect many people to accept it.