My first time — not from school, not from TV

This job not in career book

Nobody tell “you can be escort” at parent meeting. You not say “me want be escort” when teacher ask. This work come quiet way. Sometimes by accident. Sometimes from cry. Sometimes — you just think and say “yes”.

We collect story. Real one. Without lie. Without make pretty

No dream man, no miracle. Just like it happen. You can see — you not alone. Your story not shame. Not wrong. Just yours.

Story One: “I not dream — I survive”

I was 21. My father die. I have mama, small brother, and big bills. I work in coffee, but money only for food. Then boss say “bye-bye”. At one party, man say I look pretty. He say, “you want dinner for 400 euro?” I not understand first. Then I think. I say yes. Not because I want. But because I scared. Scared tell mama “we have no money”. That dinner — it was start. Now I here.

Many think escort is easy money. Is bag and fun. But for many girl, it begin in bad place. Not fun. Not dream. It begin with fear. With pressure. With no choice. It not about love — it about survive.

And yes, many people not like it. But it true. And truth is better, even if is hard.

Story Two: “I just tired of be poor”

I work in advertising. Good girl. 9 hour per day. 6 day in week. 37 000 ruble. No nail. No rest. No energy. One day I think: why I live like mouse? I smart. I pretty. I have diploma. But life is always wait, wait, wait. And nothing good come.

I know girl make my month money in one night. I feel angry. Then I feel curious. I read. I watch. I learn. Then I try. First time was bad. Second time — better. One month later I say: I not want go back to “normal job”.

Sometimes not poverty. Just tired. Tired of office. Of “later will be good” lie. But later not come. You sit and die slow. Then one day — you want one thing: to live. Not exist. Not wait. But live good, full, free.

Story Three: “I just want try”

I was 19. Student girl. Dorm life. My friend say she go meet man for money. No fear. No drama. I laugh first. Then ask questions. I want know: what feel like — to be wanted and get money?

I not desperate. I just curious. First man was 38. He nice, little boring. We eat dinner. He give money. I go home and think: not scary. Not dirty. Just strange. I not do it much. But when I want — I can. And this is power. I am not victim. I am boss of my game.

Yes, some story like that. No pain. No need. Just interest. Try beauty like tool. That also normal. That not sin.

Bad is not trying. Bad is when you not ask yourself “why”. But if you go with cold head — you can stay or stop when you want.

Story Four: “He bring me there”

First client was my... man. Yes. We couple. One year. He talk lot about job, say he know girl in escort. One day in bed he ask: “If you try this?” I think joke. But he serious. He bring me to agent. I angry. I think: he push me to this? But later I think: maybe he see more in me than I see myself?

This story is complex. Not you start, but someone show you door. You not know — go in, or close it. But maybe that door was needed. Maybe other life wait. Maybe you can live better than you think.

Story Five: “I lost — and find me again”

After divorce, I go dark place. I quit job. I cry every day. I not know who I am. Then man begin notice me. I post photo. Talk online. Some man say “we meet — I pay.” First I think — this is fall. But later I see: I take back control. Every meeting I remember: I am woman. I have price. I have power.

Escort not about sex for me. It was about come back to me. I don’t know how long I do this. But now — I feel strong. And strong is very expensive.

Why we tell this?

So you stop think you alone. So you stop think your way is shame. Maybe some start “nice”. You not. So what? You still can have love. Freedom. Good life.

There is no “right path”. Only thing matter: you honest with self. Want stay? Stay. Want go? Go. Want try? Try. But go with brain on. Not follow others. Not “all do this”. But because you choose.

What same in all story?

In each — pain or wish for new.
In each — moment before step in dark.
In each — one thought: “I not want be small anymore.”

This not breaking. This is growing. New role. You play it if you want. But stay you inside.

And you? What be your story?

We not write story for fame. We write so you know: even if you start with tears, with anger, with debt — you not broken. You are strong. You choose hard way many never try.

And if you need — we here. With words. With care. With real. Because all of us start somewhere. But now — we just go forward. With our power. With our price. With our story.