How I became an Escort

Approximate Read Time:  17 min

Warning: This post contains raw discussions of childhood trauma and sexual abuse. Please prioritize your well-being while reading. I am honestly horrified by the things that come out of my mouth, so please beware.

For those of you who have watched my journey, this is me doing it anyway.

I know we've all heard that we need to be careful what we say to our children. Many years ago, I recall hearing what was referred to as the magic ratio. It was a groundbreaking behavioral research study by Dr John Gottman.

While his study showed a 5:1 ratio is needed to keep a relationship stable, many educators and clinicians believe it climbs to 8:1 or 10:1 for children who have survived trauma, severe neglect, or abuse.

I can't blame this 100% on my mom or my dad, but it does sit in the back of my head, now that I am a parent, and I do contemplate things like self-fulfilling prophecies. 

To this day, because of this, I don’t believe I have said anything to my own children that was hurtful or out of anger that I did not mean. 

I hope they will agree with me.

I am referring to comments that my mom made to me many times growing up. She said a lot of really hurtful, mean things when she was angry. When I was 5 years old, she sent me to live with my step grandfather. 

This man raped her and many other girls, starting from around 4 years old, until they were 18 and moved away. 

Obviously, I have no real way to know, but I remember her telling me that “you think you have it rough, I'll show you what rough is.” 

Deep down, I feel she sent me there in a combination of self preservation and as a punishment to me.

Of course, my fate was the same as hers, but I doubt anyone hearing this is surprised by that.

When I think back to that time, I felt like a ragdoll being tossed around and used whenever and however he desired.

I was the only one who ever came forward officially or spoke up about the rape. Even when charges were pressed against him, I don't think a single other victim was willing to come forward. 

Recently, one of my family members looked me deeply in the eyes, in a very unexpected moment, and told me that there are things that happened that will never ever pass through her lips as long as she lives. 

My heart broke for her when she said this. I had not asked and I wasn't going to ask, but she felt the need to express that to me.

To hold on to something so deeply, that you can't allow the words to ever pass through your lips is a depth of pain that I never want to be in again. Even if you start out alone, where no one can hear you. Allowing thoughts in my mind to pass through my lips, gives me clarity and starts the healing process.

It is amazing to me the level of understanding and clarity I can get by speaking my thoughts outloud.

Back then in particular, there wasn't much information out there on how to handle rape and childhood sexual rape and abuses. Most of the time, no one spoke out about these things and it was always just kept a secret. No one understood long term repercussions, and the Internet was not available yet.

After coming forward about the rape, I still had to see him.

I still had to hug him and tell him that I loved him, and I was told that I had to be nice to him.

I was 5 years old.

He was eventually convicted. He served a very short term in jail and then probation.

I still had to see him from a distance, because there was a restraining order in place for a few years. 

My Dad's most damaging comment to me, was at 14 years old, that there is a point at which a man is turned on and a female no longer has the right to say no has always been a haunting memory as well.

Growing up, my mom would commonly call me a little slut and a little bitch and told me if I wasn't one already I would grow up to be one. 

She would also frequently remind me that her sexual abuse was way worse than mine.

Abuse is as bad as how the victim perceives it. I would never say to a survivor that my abuse was worse than theirs. It is all about how we handle it.

With all the discussions that I have been having, I've said a couple really horrifying things out loud lately, 

I horrified myself. Honestly, the more I think about and talk about my past, the more shocked I am that I survived. I truly do not know how.

The first thing I said, was that “there are worst things in life then gently being raped on a daily basis.” 

The fact that I identify with that, OMG.

The other alarming thing that came through my lips, was when my partner recently reminded me of a rape by an ex-boyfriend about 14 years ago. 

What I said was, “ how could I possibly have forgotten about that rape? That one was just not that traumatizing compared to the others. I was used to it by then I guess.” 

My 50 year old self does not even know what to say to that. All I can do is shake my head in disbelief.

I do not want to demonize my family for anything that they did, I know how damaged I was, even shattered, and I know they were operating from those same levels. I have no anger towards them any longer, even my mom. I need to give details though for you to understand the full story and impact. Honestly, there's so much more, I just don't think people can take it all at one time. 

A family member recently expressed regret and guilt for not standing up for me as a child. I admitted to her that I was a little angry as a child, knowing that people knew what was going on, but did nothing. I knew why though. No one was strong enough to face my mom. I told her that I am not angry any longer and I hope that she can find a way to forgive herself, because I already have.

In preparation for leaving my third marriage, I was securing a place to live, a vehicle, and a job,  so that I could get away from the abusive relationship that I was in.

Friday, before I was going to sign paperwork for my plans to move out, I checked in with the office manager of my new job.  I told her that I was in an abusive relationship and that I was going to leave with my children, and I was going to make a lot of very important decisions this weekend, and I needed to know that my job was secure. 

The woman looked me in the eye, and assured me that I could move forward with my plans. 

Looking back, she knew she was lying to me. She had tears in her eyes when she told me this.

That weekend I went home and signed all the paperwork and put down deposits in preparation to move forward and leave my husband.

Monday morning, I came back to work, and 60 employees were brought into a room, and immediately laid off. I was one of them.

The time frames are a little blurry, because I don't even know how to describe to you how terrified I was to know that all the plans I made just fell through, and I had already told my husband I was leaving. 

I tried to find another job, but that was the first job that I had actually had since before turning 18. Ever since then, I have been self-employed, and owning my own businesses.  

The other huge problem for me at this point was my depression that was untreatable by conventional methods. I felt shattered and I had zero self worth. I was crying all the time, and I didn't know what I was going to do.

I did not feel like I could reach out to family at this point in my life.  I was not thinking clearly enough to truly see any other choices that were better than the one that I was about to make.

A friend of mine at the time suggested that I go into escorting. He told me there was something called the Girlfriend Experience.

I did a search, and found an escorting agency. I gave them a call, and other than telling them I was a beautiful woman, I told them that I was really good at conversation. 

The truth is, I did not understand that escorting very commonly included sex.  I know this might sound totally ridiculous to people but I know I'm also not alone in this, because I have had to explain this to several of my friends as well that did not understand.

The Girlfriend Experience is exactly what it sounds like. It starts much like a date, talking, flirting, but there is an expectation that both parties are aware will be playing out. Most everything is negotiated up front and money is handled very discretely, never actually exchanging hands.

Once a relationship exists, things may change. Talks and discussions might become more personal, and money and special requests can be discussed more openly.

The man on the phone very politely told me that I needed to find someone in the industry and talk to them about how things work. He obviously could tell that I truly had no idea what I was getting into.

I went back to my friend who suggested that I get into escorting, and told him what happened. He told me he would make a phone call and see if he could help me out.

There was a woman that my friend had seen for the Girlfriend Experience in the past, and he connected me with her.

I drove out of town, to meet the woman at her home, where she gave me the ins and outs of the industry, and how things worked.  She also vouched for me in the community, so that they would know I was not undercover or trying to bust anyone.

I spent a couple days with this woman, and had appointments with my first clients as an escort.

After a couple days, I came back with enough money to secure another place for me and my children to live, and the basic necessities of life.

I only had partial custody of my children, which left me a lot of time on my own, which was filled with crying and sleeping in between appointments. Luckily, I really didn’t need to see that many clients to make my monthly bills.

Becoming an escort allowed me to devote 100% of my time to children when I did have them with me, and since my depression was so bad, I don't know that I was capable of much else honestly.

That was a time in my life where I did a lot of crying and a lot of sleeping. My depression was untreatable, and getting worse. I prayed to a god that I didn’t believe in, to take me away, so that my children didn’t grow up knowing that their mother committed suicide.

During the time that I was making the choice to become an escort, the worst, most destructive thoughts of my life were going through my mind. I could barely look at myself in the mirror.

Are you ready? It is really dark.  

I actually considered letting men shoot me up with drugs so that I would overdose while they used me until nothing was left. That is how badly I hated myself and wanted to be dead. And I was in the environment to be able to make this happen very easily.

I advertised for escort services on a website that was busted very publicly a year or two after I stopped providing services. I only took clients by referral for quite a while and it was always by appointment. Safety was my top priority, even though I wanted to die, I didn't want it to be violent and or painful, and I had made the choice that I was going to do this to survive and stay in my kids' lives, so safety was number one.

After a while, I started interviewing potential clients that did not have references, but wanted to see me. Basically I was asking them a lot of questions about their personal life, to make sure that they had a lot to lose if they were to hurt me, and looking for inconsistencies in their story. I did have a young man one time, bach at my questions and ask me why I wanted so much personal information, I explained to him that it wasn't that I really wanted the personal information, I am just trying to assess whether I will be safe by letting him into my home alone with me. This made sense, and he played along. 

There were also times when I would travel out of town. I honestly didn't work much more than I had to. I really wasn't even capable of it mentally at that point. When I did go out of town, that was a big money maker. Men like variety, and traveling, booked my calendar every time, because they never knew if I was going to come back. It created a sense of urgency. 

Most of my clients were only looking for an hour, but there were those who had special requests, or who wanted a night out on the town. I also had requests for overnight visits and traveling, but since my second husband had been literally drugging, torturing and raping me, I didn't trust anyone while I was sleeping or unconscious around them, so those requests were not even an option.

I would never want to glamorize escorting. I think in many ways, even if you wrap your head around what you're doing, it is soul sucking in many ways, and it is very dangerous.

I had a lot of safety precautions in place, and I checked in and out with friends before and after appointments.

I had a lot of regular clients, and good conversation with a lot of different people. I experienced a lot of things that I never thought I would, and learned about a lot of things thatI didn't know existed.

I definitely found out what I like in the bedroom versus what I had been doing to please my husbands/partners in the past.

It surprised me how empowering escorting was in many ways. Even though it could have changed at any moment, I was the one putting on the show and in control of the events.

Not that I would have ever shared it with the clients, but of course I did have a lot of opinions and judgments about their requests. Let's be really honest, if they weren't paying me, none of that would have been happening,  even though it was my job to make them believe otherwise. 

Truly,

Margot X. Sterling

Author | Speaker | Transformation Expert

Conflict Resolution | Resilience Strategist

Mastering the X-Point: Where shadow meets strength.