PART 2: What Escorting Taught Me About Self Love

Becoming Nina: What Escorting Taught Me About Love

People expect a story of damage. Of survival. Of how I escaped some dark industry and found myself again. But that’s not my story. When I started escorting, I was already at a low point. Not broken—just tired. Tired of giving too much and getting nothing real in return. Tired of hoping someone would see my worth. And then something unexpected happened. I got paid—not just in money, but in clarity, power, and peace. I became whole. Not because someone rescued me, but because I stopped abandoning myself. I stopped waiting to be chosen and started choosing me. I set boundaries. I found standards. And I realized: real love starts with self-respect.

People assume clients are disrespectful. That I’m just another body to use and forget. But that hasn’t been my experience. My clients show up with care, clarity, and money. They don’t argue, guilt-trip, or expect something for nothing. Honestly, they’re usually more respectful than the men I’ve dated. Why? Because I make them be. I screen them. I ask questions. I make them prove they’re worth my time. Not because I’m on a power trip, but because I’ve learned to protect my energy. If you don’t play by my rules, you don’t get in. Simple. And the men who stay? They’re incredible—because they earned it.

Escorting made me look at everything in my life with new eyes. Why wasn’t I demanding the same respect in my personal relationships? Why was I giving to people who gave so little in return? The answer was obvious: men value what they work for. When something is handed to them too easily, they don’t respect it. That realization changed everything. Because in my personal life, I was just hoping—hoping effort would come later, that respect would build, that love would grow. But now I know: if it’s not there at the beginning, it’s not going to magically appear later.

Escorting taught me patience—not just to wait for money, but to wait for intention, for consistency, for care. I don’t give access just because someone wants me. Wanting me isn’t the same as valuing me. And if you don’t come correct, you don’t get anything from me—not my time, not my body, not my softness. Not anymore.

Some people think sex work is about giving yourself away. But for me, it was the first time I ever felt in full control of what I gave and to whom. I realized I don’t owe anyone access. I don’t have to “see where it goes.” And I definitely don’t have to perform to be loved. I don’t confuse attention with affection anymore. I don’t trade my body for a maybe. I’m not emotionally generous with people who haven’t earned it.

Now, I live differently. I wait. I screen everyone—emotionally and romantically. And most men don’t make it past the first round. They drop the ball, show their ego, or make it obvious they’re not used to working for anything. And every time that happens, it saves me from giving myself away for free. That’s what escorting gave me: not just freedom or money, but standards.

So yeah—I’m a provider. I’m in a profession most people don’t understand. But I’m also a woman who knows her worth. And yeah, I laugh sometimes at how exhausting it must be to live with a dick—like owning a Frenchie that needs constant care and attention, always begging, always there. It’s kind of funny, but it’s also why I think women give too much, too soon. We think it’s love, but it’s really just giving away access to someone who hasn’t earned it. Not me. Not anymore.

I’ve stopped moving from emotion. Now I move from alignment. If it’s not mutual, intentional, and respectful—I’m out. If you’re not paying me, you better be pouring into me in other ways. Because I’m done performing. I’m protecting. I’m loving myself first.

So thank you—to the men who showed up right. Who respected my time, my boundaries, my rules. You reminded me of something I already knew: I’ve always been worthy. And now I own it. With boundaries. With clarity. With choice.

Love,

Nina Jet