Nervous Confessions: The Things Clients Are Sometimes Afraid to Tell Me

I notice a particular energy when I meet someone for the first time. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell whether they’re nervous or excited because, physically, the two can look remarkably similar. Their heart is racing, their thoughts are moving faster than usual, they’re hyperaware of themselves and suddenly they’re very conscious of what they’re doing with their hands.

For some people, that nervous energy comes out as talking.

They’ll tell me about their pets, their last holiday, the book they’re reading or a hobby they’ve recently become completely obsessed with.

I actually quite enjoy this about my clients because it shows humility, uniqueness and personality.

When someone books a male escort or private companion for the first time, I don’t expect them to arrive perfectly composed, knowing exactly what to say and completely comfortable sitting across from a stranger. That would be a rather unreasonable expectation. So if someone needs to spend the first thirty minutes telling me about their day, I’m perfectly happy to hear about the weather, the traffic, the person they saw on the street.

Sometimes small talk is doing important work; it's the little things that matter. I don’t really see nervous small talk as meaningless. It’s just energy looking for somewhere to go and so I give it intentional direction.

If someone tells me they’re reading a book, I’ll ask what it is. Are they enjoying it? What’s it about? How did they discover the author?

It’s a bit like letting a pressure valve open slowly rather than trying to wrench it off all at once. Eventually, quite naturally, the nervousness starts turning into excitement. Their shoulders come down. They’re laughing, making eye contact and becoming more present and at ease with me being in the room with them. This happens in waves and those energies catch us off guard.

But when the conversation feels calmer, we can start talking about the things they actually came to talk about.

The things people are afraid to say

I’ve had clients in the past really struggle to tell me they’re sexually inexperienced or virgins. Or find disclosure challenging when it comes to negative experiences from previous relationships, body image insecurities, kinky fantasies they’ve never said out loud before and sexual health concerns they’ve carried around for years. I see these as limiting beliefs that they have been conditioned by in order to subdue their sexual selves and therefore struggle to talk about them to anyone.

And I don’t necessarily think that’s a failure of communication.

There are things that feel terrifying to type into an email when you’re imagining a stranger reading them but become considerably easier to say when you’re sitting across from an actual human being who isn’t reacting the way you feared they would.

That’s one reason I don’t want someone booking a discreet male escort or companion to feel like they need to arrive with a perfectly curated version of themselves.

If I notice something that makes me think there might be something underneath it, I’ll ask about it when it feels appropriate. Alternatively, I’ll remember it and come back to it later in the conversation. All I expect from the bookings is a conversation and most of what is expected from me is to listen.

And occasionally, giving someone the opportunity to talk about something they’ve been carrying alone for a very long time is enough to make a difference.

Sexual health shouldn't be a confession

I’ve had clients tell me about their sexual health that they’ve never told anyone before and one of the most striking things to me is watching what happens immediately afterwards. It’s like you can actually see the relief wash over them and all that pressure and tension slide off their shoulders.

Their posture changes, their face softens, they realize they’ve just said the thing they were afraid of and the stranger sitting opposite them hasn’t recoiled, shown disgust or suddenly started treating them differently.

I think that is one of the nicest parts of what I do, witnessing a marvelous person step into their own empowerment and realize that the confession hasn't changed how I see them.

In saying this, sexual health probably holds the most unnecessary fear.

I’ve spoken to people who became so frightened of STIs or “catching something” that they stopped allowing themselves ordinary affection. They then denied themselves the chance to hug, kiss or experience pleasure with another human being.

That fear can go back to childhood conditioning. Whether that was socially or culturally, to make them feel dirty, irresponsible, or somehow less deserving of intimacy.

Then they grow up carrying this predetermined idea around for another ten to twenty years, that they never chose.

That’s a long time to go denying oneself basic human touch because somebody taught you to be afraid of your own body while also marketing the thrill of arousal through mainstream channels.

Thankfully, our understanding of sexual health is considerably better than it used to be. Some STIs can be cured, others can be effectively managed, and preventative measures, vaccinations, testing and treatments allow people to live completely ordinary and fulfilling lives.

There is, of course, risk, as there is with everything fun in life and life in general. And there are definitely always going to be risks associated with when we’re dealing with bodies, sex and other human beings.

The point is that risk can be understood and managed through open communication, curiosity, and constructive collaboration. Shame, guilt and disgust don't make anyone safer.

And then there are periods

The same goes for menstruation. I think it’s heartbreaking when someone is genuinely distressed because they’ve gotten their period before an appointment they’ve been looking forward to for months. Especially when I’ve travelled halfway around the world, and I only visit once a year. There are most likely months of anticipation behind that booking. They’ve organized their schedule, perhaps travelled interstate to see me, picked out the perfect outfit, charged their favorite vibrator and looked forward to this particular evening. Then their body does the most completely normal thing imaginable, and they feel like it has ruined everything.

Quick news flash - it hasn’t.

There are obviously practical considerations. We can talk about what feels comfortable, what makes sense in the circumstances and what we may or may not want to do.

But no one should be apologizing for menstruation; it’s a normal bodily function. I’d much rather someone tell me what’s happening so we can make a decision together than spend the entire evening worrying that I’m secretly horrified.

But then there are things that actually go wrong

And occasionally, the thing you're most nervous about isn't a hypothetical conversation. Sometimes shit actually hits the fan.

I’ve debated whether to include this because it feels like a strange tangent in an article about nervous confessions, but perhaps it’s actually the most relevant thing I could talk about.

Once I had contracted gonorrhoea, I’m not sure how, but the test returned positive for throat gonorrhoea, specifically.

And yes, gonorrhoea can infect the throat. You don’t need to have oral sex with a penis to catch it, which seems obvious once you think about how infections work, but apparently still needs saying after an interesting conversation I had with a sexual-health clinician. But the actual treatment was relatively straightforward.

Once I received the result, I went to the doctor the next morning, followed the prescribed treatment and was subsequently retested and cleared after fourteen days.

The difficult part for me was everything around it.

As a male escort who travels almost weekly for work. I had bookings, travel plans, people who had trusted me with their health.

And suddenly, I had to build a protocol for something I’d never personally had to deal with before. So even after a very busy day of calls and admin, I had to start making appointments and sending messages immediately. There was an obligatory sense of urgency when I contacted people I’d seen during the relevant period so they could make informed decisions about testing and I provided links to access testing remotely and discreetly. Then I needed to contact people I was due to see while I was within the relevant window. That meant cancelling tours, offering refunds and rescheduling where appropriate and discussing alternative arrangements where suitable and mutually agreed upon.

It was, instinctively, sexual-health damage control and I expected some people to be angry or disgusted with me.

Instead, I was met with gratitude and compassion; the people I had shared such vulnerable and intimate space with appreciated being told directly.

One person was particularly grateful because of their own autoimmune health circumstances and the additional risk an STI could have posed to them.

Nobody had to find out through some anonymous public-health notification and sit there wondering whether they had been exposed.

They knew because I told them, and I could tell them what to do next if they had concerns, while keeping my line open for any questions they had. It was really important to me not to leave the people who trusted me in the dark.

Responsibility is mitigating Murphy’s Law (everything that can go wrong will go wrong)

That experience reinforced what I already believed: classically, ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ and sex can be greatly empowering.

So my responsibility is overcoming the challenge based on my actions when shit hits the fan directly above me and everyone around me. And I don’t know if I did everything I could have done, but I tried my best to face the fucking mess, communicate and coordinate with everyone, and clean up the carpet.

Metaphorically.

And I certainly don't recommend trying to carry on with your normal life while simultaneously taking antibiotics, travelling constantly and contacting everyone you've seen the previous two testing cycles. It is a bit of an emotional vortex. But I’m glad it happened in the sense that it forced me to think seriously about what responsibility actually looks like in my particular line of work.

Because there will always be chaos: Sex is chaos, humans are chaos.

Sometimes someone gets their period at an inconvenient time, discovers they’re carrying an infection they didn't know about, realizes they’re far more nervous than they expected, or tells you their deepest and darkest fantasies that they’ve never told anyone about.

My job is to accommodate all of that chaos and transmute it into a sense of certainty that everything is going to be ok.

By creating enough safety, reassurance and consistency, we can collectively clean up the proverbial shitty fan when it happens.

You don't have to be perfectly prepared for intimacy

That’s probably why I care so much about the things clients are nervous to tell me.

The confession, or even my own confession here, isn't really the important part. It’s what happens afterwards because I don't want to position myself as some perfectly sanitised person who floats through sex untouched by all the inconvenient parts of being human.

I want to be capable of sitting with uncertainty as a part of being an adult who has sex. Acknowledging that the responsibility that comes with intimacy is about knowing there’s a possible state of certainty and being willing to intentionally communicate integrity when that certainty disappears.

What I actually want clients to experience

I think that’s ultimately what I’m trying to offer people when they book me as a male escort or private companion.

Imperfection and humility. Preferably a judgement-free utopia where nothing can possibly go wrong. But then where’s the novelty in that?

I would settle for being another human being who can stay calm when something is uncomfortable. Because we don’t grow in our comfort zones. And because sometimes the most reassuring thing you can hear after finally expressing something you're terrified to say is simply:

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

And then we figure out what to do from there.