‘I have no regrets’: My husband the escort
When a young married couple fall into financial straits, the husband turns to escort work – at his wife’s urging – to pay the bills.
By Anonymous
Sitting in our dimly lit kitchen, waiting for my husband Ben* to tiptoe out of our toddler’s bedroom, I had two cups of tea made, pictures selected, and was rehearsing my pitch. I didn’t know whether this was totally nuts or I was a genius.
As the one managing our finances, I’d become aware of the unsustainable nature of our living expenses much sooner than Ben. The increase in interest rates meant we only had a few months up our sleeve with our combined incomes (mine as a psychologist in outer Sydney, his in hospitality).
Every beep of my phone as it hovered above a PayWave machine made me sick to my stomach. Seeing Ben, as a mature-age student, thrive for the first time in our 10-year-plus marriage had made me keep these concerns to myself. I had never seen him with this much purpose and energy – how could I take that away from him? Studying during the day and working several nights a week was already such a stretch, and it meant so much time away from our two-year-old daughter.
Compounding our financial stress, we also had a desire for a second child.
What the couple needed was a job that was overnight, didn’t require any additional training or experience, and could be done after their toddler was asleep.Credit: Stocksy
I knew we needed more money, but I couldn’t figure out where exactly to find more time for either of us to work. The only option seemed to be overnight jobs. Security guard? They’d laugh at him.
Overnight support worker? Damn, they required certificate-level qualifications. So, we needed a job that was overnight, didn’t require any additional training or experience, and could be done after our toddler was asleep.
This is when I typed “male escort” into Google. As with everything, there was a shockingly wide range; from pornographic-type images of tanned, muscly men to cute, bookish, approachable guys – the common denominator being that their fees were about $300-plus an hour. My husband, he could do this.
We’d met in our late 20s and each of us had had our share of lovers. Never shying away from those conversations about our past, our relationship had a best-friend vibe, despite being a monogamous marriage. We often joked about how many women I had to bat away when we finally committed to one another. Despite not being “built” or traditionally handsome, he was confident in his ability to engage with women.
I was curious to see his response to what I’d Googled. Squinting and rubbing his neck, Ben finally shuffled out of our toddler’s bedroom. I handed him his cup of tea and first, showed him a spreadsheet. “I don’t think we can financially pull this off for much longer,” I said. “Ugh, I knew it – I’ll quit school,” he replied, in his usual, self-sacrificing manner. “No,” I said, “let’s just explore all avenues before we pull the plug.” I pulled up one of the classier escort sites. “These guys are making so much money – even if you went on one date a fortnight, we’d be able to manage.” I could see I’d piqued his interest after he snatched my laptop to read some of the “about me” sections. “Holy shit, you think I can do this?” he asked. “Yes, I do,” I replied.
We wrote a quirky intro for him, added some cute pictures, set his fees (30-minute meet-and-greet option with no commitments, hourly, and overnight), and hit publish. We were giddy – we were cheating the system! Thinking outside the box! We’d found a way to make our lives work!
When a few weeks went by without any requests, the anti-climax we felt quickly morphed into resentment, thinking we’d been scammed out of the $40 the site charged. Then, out of nowhere, Ben got his first request. The shock hit – now, this was totally real. Were we OK with it? Would it change our marriage forever? We created some safety measures: 1) If, after the first date, either of us felt uncomfortable in any way, he would cease immediately; and 2) he wouldn’t share any intimate details with me.
As the night approached, the atmosphere in our home changed; it felt like the air had been taken out of our small apartment. We both withdrew into our own worlds. Mine had “don’t think about it” on repeat, and with work, study and parenting, we had little time to explore his. But given the increase in number (from a previous total of zero) of daily push-ups, I imagined that Ben, too, was managing levels of discomfort.
My jealousy was eclipsed by fear. What if it was a scam? What if there was a gang targeting male escorts?
Seeing him get ready for this date felt like an invasion of his privacy – it was such a foreign concept for two people who’d spent most of their relationship sharing a studio flat. When he came out dressed in his well-fitted dark jeans, simple T-shirt and jacket, smelling lovely, I recoiled – he’s mine! We exchanged I-love-yous and I wished him good luck, and he headed out.
My jealousy was quickly eclipsed by fear. What if it was a scam? What if there was a gang targeting male escorts? What if he gets kidnapped? What will I say to the cops? What will I say to my parents? An hour in, I received a text: Meeting went well, am continuing with date. Love you. I distracted myself by phoning a friend. Speaking about it out loud to another person was a balm for my anxiety; with awe and curiosity, my kind friend distracted me with all sorts of questions. Where did we get this idea? How did he get a client? How much does he know about her? Has he seen pictures? What if he can’t perform?
We knew that this date was with a trans person assigned female at birth. They’d agreed to meet in a busy restaurant. Having experienced physical violence due to their gender identity, the client was cautious and guarded. Ben immediately felt warmly towards them and found it easy to build rapport over drinks and, later, music. It was from this instant that he realised this job would be about so much more than just sex. When he returned home that night, he said, “Thank you for allowing me to do this – it was the easiest, most rewarding way I have ever earnt money.” Apparently, having sex with another person after all this time was “not bad or good, just, different”, and seemed to be the most insignificant part of the date.
Very quickly, Ben was able to quit his hospitality job. He continued escorting over the next couple of years. During this time we had another child, and he had many repeat and regular clients, several of whom had a trauma history, or found intimacy difficult. Life at this stage was a blur of sleepless nights, him walking through the door late, lips still swollen from the Viagra, strapping the baby into a carrier and bouncing her into the night so I could rest.
Most of his clients were mothers. Women losing themselves to the demands of motherhood, coming out of it decades later gasping for air, completely disconnected from who they were, their joy, and their marriages. Many were resentful. I often thought about them, wondering what had contributed the most to their failed marriages and loss of self. Was there a pattern? Was I safe from this future?
They usually met in their homes, holiday homes, or a hotel room if they were out-of-towners. Ben would give them the “boyfriend experience”: hanging out, going to shows, galleries, dinners – even travelling overseas together. With the exception of our family life, which was off-limits, Ben was totally open with them, discussing his interests, art, hobbies; they’d exchange stories about their wild 20s, all of which allowed him to create bonds that felt authentic. Similar to my line of work as a psychologist, he created a sense of safety and connection; making clients feel validated and seen was a crucial element of the work (and the part that kept clients returning). His knack for reading people, along with his decades of hospitality experience, allowed him to easily adapt to what his clients needed from him.
Occasionally, he worked with couples. In these instances, he found himself in the role of moderator, helping them navigate the boundaries needed to enjoy a threesome. I was in awe of how well he was able to adapt to the emotional complexity of this role. I remember another curious friend asking him, “But what about when you’re not attracted to someone?” His reply touched me: “Everyone has some attractive quality. I just focus on that.”
Over time, it became easier for both of us to compartmentalise. When he was working, I rarely thought about what he was actually doing. What surprised me, however, was that although he was having the most sex of his life, he still craved intimacy with me. We felt more connected in our intimacy; it was a space for him to reclaim himself. Knowing that he preferred being with me, even though he had access to sex with other women, caught me off-guard – I’d never imagined this role could strengthen our bond.
Ben quit escorting the moment we were able to scrape by without it. When I reflect on that time of our life, I have no regrets. People often believe that non-monogamy ends marriages.
I believe that chronic financial stress, combined with overwork and limited quality time, create the real recipe for marital breakdown. Indeed, we are both proud of the work Ben did; a lot of these women got to experience a level of safety and connection in intimacy – similar to traditional therapeutic work – they’d never experienced before. For some, it would have given them a blueprint they could then apply to future relationships.
*Name has been changed.
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