As sad as it is, it seems this ‘job’ has damaged more than I thought. As I move on through my life it chips away at me.

I’m away for a few days in my favourite place in Britain and it feels as if I’m grinning and bearing my way through it. Counting my way down till my next flight. It seems easy getting yourself through an hour when you know there’s money’s coming out of it! But a weekend with someone I’m supposed to like is the hardest thing in the world! Why?

What has happened to me?!

As I sit on the transfer coach holding my parking ticket I let out a sigh of relief I seem to have been holding in a while.

Home, no more pretending, the mask is off, a mask I never want to have to put on again and never thought I would. It’s back to just me and my own, such a comfort!

This is the reality of this “job”,  the prolonged trauma! Will it ever leave me?!

When I heard Rachel Moran speak the other day something stuck in my head! “We need to stop glamourising this job to people, it’s not all designer heels and red lipstick 💄. ”

It’s true if anyone had told me the reality of this lifestyle, I would have searched every other option. But would I have really believed them?

If I could help stop even one girl from starting I would feel I have achieved something.

theres still time

“I’m not afraid.

To take a stand.


Come take my hand. 

We’ll walk this road together, through the storm

Whatever weather, cold or warm

Just letting you know that you’re not alone

Holler if you feel like you’ve been down the same road.”

‘Eminem – Not afraid’