At first I thought it was another silent call.
But then he spoke, quietly and with hesitation. “Samantha,” he said. ‘I hear you are back at work and I would love to see you – if you agree to it.”
I was just pulling into the car park at Westfield, for me, a deadly place where stationary cars pose a serious ‘crash’ risk, having managed to slam into a parked car just weeks before.
His name was T. He was in his 40s. “I have been in a wheelchair for 30 years,” he said cautiously. “You may not want to… His voice trailing off nervously.
“I would be delighted to see you T,” I said. “Just tell me more about your situation.” He was a paraplegic, from an accident in the water when he was 12.
“I can’t feel anything from my neck down so there would be no sex, but I just want to be in the company of a woman,” he said. “My imagination still works.”
In the lift with Samantha X…
We agreed on a time and date. T would be making the three hour drive with his carer. “Looking forward to meeting you!” He said, this time with joy.
I threw my phone in my bag, and my heart sang. Yep, Samantha was back. And I was bloody delighted. Forget sex, drugs, rock and roll. I’m not lying when I say this job is more of a counselling role. And it’s clients like T that make me realise even more that I found my calling. I am exactly where I want to be. This is my path.
But it isn’t easy.
This week has been an interesting week. Because going public back in 2014 wasn’t dramatic enough (ahem), I thought why not put myself through the “embarrassing” thing again…OK, on a serious note, and to anyone who hasn’t read my story – I was a $1200 an hour escort, retired for love, got dumped, became depressed, then decided to return to the job I loved.
Sounds easy enough, but announcing my return was bloody hard. Harder than going public the first time.
Then I had no idea how interesting my story was, now I am a bit more cluey. I knew it was going to be news and I was worried. The mental chatter in my head was unbearable. Should I, shouldn’t I? What would ‘people’ think?
Maybe I could work on the sly? But that wasn’t me.
In my books, I wrote about how, for me, I need to lead an authentic life. Lying and double lives may work for my clients – but they don’t work for me.
Not only because I would lie in bed wanting to confess all to all and sundry but because I didn’t want anyone to have power over me. The main reason I outed myself years ago was to take ownership of who I was – and take away any power from anyone else.