I like babies. A lot. Way too much. And it's super-easy to see myself - a nice, fairly well-off guy comes along, a year of dating, some "ah, I don't know what I want to do with my life" instability, and bam, I end up a housewife/mother.
The nice thing about being an escort is that that ain't gonna happen. What would my mother say if I became just an escort? What would my father say? What would anyone say? Becoming just a housewife is acceptable, becoming just an escort is not. Loosing yourself completely into an alternate-universe-relationship with a boyfriend is acceptable. Loosing yourself into being a sex worker is not. Whining and moping and bitching and gossiping about casual sex and having that be the key-point of conversations with friends is acceptable. Having it be about being an escort is not.
And honestly, now I know all about so many different things. And honestly, where else can I get paid for getting investment advice from someone who makes a million a year at a bank?
I think that's why I'm really super-wary of going professional, you know? I even - I went on a shopping spree over the past few weeks: 1200 dollars in clothes; really cute, versatile clothes because I'm sick of everything I bought, and because what flatters my body now is really different from before plastic surgery. But that 1200 made me sort of (completely) sick...I don't know - it sort of felt like I was investing a hell of a lot of money into being a pretty object. So - long story short, set up a brokerage account and am depositing all but 200 dollars into that. And hopefully I'll not end up, like so many other masters and post-liberal-arts masters students, stuck in a dead-end job.
Being found attractive and getting taken to really nice restaurants and hotels - not such a shock-excitement any more. Getting intimate access to the world's best and brightest and most experienced and respected, while obtaining financial freedom? And getting enough whatever to not be a push-over/take shit from stupid boys? Pretty priceless.