To those who don’t know my story, I was a journalist who, at the age of 37, walked out of my 9-5pm and my long-term relationship, and became a high-class escort. Ok, that’s fast forwarding a bit. I left my relationship, was single for a year and then I realised two things: dating was impossible, and I was sick of men letting me down. (Not all men, but enough).
I was always fascinated by femme de la nuit (women of the night), I devoured all the hooker books and watched The Secret Diary of a London Call girl on repeat. And then I made a decision. A bloody brilliant decision. If a man wanted to waste my time, he could pay for it.
So, I created a character called Samantha. (My real name is not Samantha). Samantha was far sexier and more confident than plain old me. Samantha didn’t wait around for men to call; she created the waiting around. Samantha had the nails, the boobs, the lingerie, the confidence. The real me bites her nails, has very small boobs (pre-boob jobs), never had a matching pair of undies and always struggled with self-esteem.
I didn’t know a soul in the adult industry but as all good journalists, I did my research. Fast forward a few years and two best-selling books, plus my business Samantha X After Dark (pop in and treat yourself to sexy lingerie!), I charge a lot of money for my time and have a very comfortable black book of lovely clients. And they are lovely, far lovelier than any man I have dated but that’s another column.
I outed myself for a few reasons; firstly, because I probably didn’t think past the immediate future and secondly, knowing exactly what journalists are like, I wanted to out myself before they did.
I truly believe we live the life we are meant to. I was meant to become Samantha and the character I created has probably saved me in more ways than you can imagine.
Now I have endless women contacting me about wanting to become their own version of Samantha. And with all of them, I ask this: Are you absolutely sure you want to go down this path because once you have your heels firmly stuck into this industry, it is near impossible to leave.
I called my first book Hooked for a reason – not only do men get hooked, but us too. The free lifestyle, the flexibility, the five-star, first class travel, the money, being treated like a queen and so on. The adult industry is alluring, enticing and addictive.
But like with anything, it comes at a price.
Let’s take judgment and stigma out of the equation. We all know about that.
What you may not know is this: in my experience (and I can only talk about mine), relationships and dating become extremely hard. Not necessarily because there is a shortage of men who would date you, but for me, real relationships in real life are hard work, take time and it’s not all rosy. In the escorting world, you get the best of them, and they get best of you.
When I’ve given up work to date – huge mistake. Not only did I get poor (and boyfriends don’t pay your bills; some I’ve dated have lived off my money) but any hint of an issue, I was out of the door. “Clients would never treat me like this…!” And off I would trot to one of my clients who would take me for a lovely dinner, transfer a considerable amount of money into my bank account and tell me what an idiot my ex was. I’ve lost count the number of times I’ve called a few of my clients up crying ‘He’s such a bastard…!” Perhaps instead of sticking it out and working through it like people do in committed relationships, I run back to clients because it’s easier.
When men pay you thousands just to be in your company, I can assure you it would take a very special man to take you away from that lifestyle. Despite this, I know escorts that are happily married. It works for them, and I won’t lie, of course I wonder what it would be like in a healthy, functional and happy relationship (umm, anyone…?) Would I get bored? Would the routine make me want to run for the hills?
It’s not just dating – it’s the money and lifestyle which is hard to give up. Where else can you charge thousands for someone to take you to dinner? I charged an extortionate fee to accompany a dear gent to LA, flying first class and treated to all the shows. If anyone thinks this role is all about sex, wrong. Most of it is connection and company. I stay in five-star hotels (that I pay for myself), and I work the days I want to.
And going back to a 9-5pm, where you have a boss breathing down your neck, is near impossible. Sometimes I long for a normal life, with a normal job in a normal relationship. But what is normal anyway? I look at my friends – do I want their lives? No. Do I want their marriages? No. I want my own type of normal life – whether that is a committed relationship while Samantha is still alive and kicking, I don’t know. I’m still figuring that out.
I love Samantha. She is complex but she came into my life at a perfect time. But is this life for everyone? Absolutely not. Every woman could be Samantha, but it doesn’t mean they should be.