Behind Closed Doors: Confronting Shame in the Industry
The more time I spend in this world, the more I see how shame quietly settles into the corners, affecting both clients and the women they visit. One might not think that shame would have a place in an industry built around desire, fantasy, and connection—but it’s always in the periphery. It is a particular brand of guilt that creeps in when you least expect it, colouring the way clients approach, the way we engage, and the way we both walk away when the session’s over. It’s a subtle force, and one that we prefer to avoid discussing but that impacts us all.
For me, shame was something I felt long before I ever stepped into the stilettos of this line of work. Growing up, I was painfully aware of my body—how it didn’t fit the mould of what people found desirable. I wasn’t the girl who turned heads, not the one who was whispered about in locker rooms or chased after at dances. I was the outsider, stocky and tall, with teeth that didn’t seem to want to align with anyone’s idea of “pretty”. It felt like my existence was an awkward mistake.
Fast forward to now, where I’m a woman who’s learned to occupy her space, where clients express desire in ways I never imagined… and yet those old feelings of inadequacy haven’t fully left. They just wear a different mask. I hear the words, see the looks, but there’s always that part of me that’s waiting for the punchline, waiting for the validation to turn into rejection. That same shame that I thought was buried deep still hovers just beneath the surface, bubbling up when I least expect.
Shame on the Client Side
Clients come to us with their own stories. Many carry their own burdens
when they walk through the door, usually due to a society that has vilified seeking out connection in this way. Maybe it’s the stigma attached to paying for companionship, or the shame of admitting that they want something, need something, that they haven’t found elsewhere. I see it in their hesitation, in the awkward laughs, in the way they look at the floor more than they look at me.
And it’s not just the obvious shame, either; it’s layered. Some men feel ashamed because they want more than the transactional side of this, craving a deeper connection but unsure if that’s allowed, or if they’re worthy of it, or that for whatever reason they cannot secure it for themselves outside of the walls of this spa. Others might feel shame because they don’t know how to articulate what they want. They think it’s too much, too weird, too vulnerable.
Sometimes I have to be the one to diffuse that, to make them feel at ease. It’s part of the job, in a way to guide them through that discomfort, to make them feel like what they’re asking for is all a-okay. But there are moments where I see that weight fall back on their shoulders again when they leave. They come back, of course, but it’s never without some trace of guilt lingering in the background, as though they can’t shake the societal judgement even in a private space.
Shame on Our Side
The truth is, girls in the industry carry our own baggage. It’s easy to assume that once you start doing this kind of work, you’re shameless—that you’ve shrugged off any sense of guilt or insecurity. But that’s not how it works. There’s this misconception that we’re immune to judgement, and that because we’re out here doing the scandalous thing, we’ve somehow moved past caring. But shame has a way of finding you no matter where you are.
For me, it’s the quiet moments that get to me the most. The downtime between sessions, when I’m left alone with my thoughts. That’s when the doubts creep in. What would people think if they knew? Have I sold out some part of myself for validation I didn’t get growing up? And then, of course, there’s that delightful societal shame again. This is the one whispering in your ear that you’ll never be seen as anything more than your body, that people will reduce you to the fantasy you portray.
It’s a strange balance, isn’t it? On the one hand, we’re expected to own our work, be confident, and present ourselves as desirable and in control. On the other hand, the same society that tells us to be confident is the one judging us the hardest. There’s a constant push and pull. Am I doing this because I enjoy it, or am I still that awkward girl from high school, searching for validation in all the wrong places?
Shame in the Fantasy
Part of what makes this job complex is that we’re often playing a role and/or acting out a fantasy. And there’s shame tied to that too—because the lines between who we are and who we pretend to be can very easily blur. For some clients the fantasy isn’t just about physical attraction. It’s about connection. They want you to be their dream girl, the one who gets them, who just innately understands their needs without judgement. That’s a lot of pressure to carry.
When I’m Hillary, the approachable and busty masseuse, I’m stepping into a role. It’s not quite a lie, but it’s not the full truth either. Clients see the confident woman in front of them, the one who’s learned to play the part, but they don’t see the self-doubt that lingers in the background. They don’t know that sometimes, after a session, I go home and wonder if I’m losing myself in the process… if the validation I’m getting is really for me or just for the character I’ve created.
The real guilt lies in the feeling that, at times, I’m deceiving my clients. It’s not that I’m not fulfilling their fantasies— I like to think that I am—but there’s a regret that comes from knowing I’m only showing them part of who I am. While I’m giving them exactly what they came for, I’m also consciously holding back parts of myself and keeping them hidden behind a carefully crafted persona. It’s a necessary bounday that helps me protect my real self from blending too much with the work I do, but that doesn’t make the sense of dishonesty any easier to carry. There’s a weight to knowing that, while I’m performing a role, they might believe they’re seeing something more authentic.
Breaking Through the Shame
Over time, I’ve learned to navigate this industry by acknowledging the shame, not ignoring it. Shame thrives in secrecy and in silence. The more we keep it hidden, the stronger it grows. So, I’ve started to talk about it, whether with other women in the industry or, sometimes, with clients themselves. It’s surprising how often clients open up about their own guilt or shame when I give them the space to do so.
I’ve realized that shame, on both sides, comes from the same place. It comes from fear. Fear of judgement, fear of rejection, fear of being seen as less than. The only way to diffuse it is to confront it, to create a space where both sides feel safe to be honest. And that’s where I’ve found the most fulfilment in this job. Not in the fantasy, per se, but in those rare moments of truth when the masks come off, and we see each other for who we really are.
Conclusion: Rewriting the Script
Shame has been a part of my life long before I stepped into this profession. However, I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t have to define who I am—or who my clients are. We are all more than the roles we assume or the judgments we encounter. While shame might be a chapter in our story, it doesn’t need to be the conclusion. There’s a whole narrative beyond it, and we have the power to shape that narrative ourselves.
If anything, I’ve learned to rewrite the script. I’ve learned to see myself not as a caricature of my past insecurities but as someone who has the power to shape the narrative. The same goes for my clients. We’re both trying to navigate a world that often tells us we’re not enough, or that we’re too much, or somehow both at once. And sometimes, in this strange little unconventional space, we find a way to heal… even if just a little.
Shame may always be lurking in the background, but it doesn’t have to take over the narrative. For every time it threatens to surface, there’s an opportunity for connection, empathy, and acceptance to shine through. I choose to focus on these moments of genuine interaction rather than the shame itself. It’s these authentic exchanges that truly make this work meaningful.