escort diary® of Jolie: Why I don't fake it
I am going to ruin the mystique a little here, which is fitting because I have never been particularly good at mystique (unless I don't like someone, then I'm suddenly the peak of mysterious). Mystique requires consistency in hiding who I am and I am too much of an oversharer for that. Some days I am elegant and poised and some days I open the door in socks with holes in them because I was reading something and forgot I had a visitor in ten minutes. This is not a brand failure, this is just what happens when a person is actually a person rather than a curated experience with a booking system.
So let me be honest about something that might cost me money, which is my favourite kind of honesty because it proves itself.
I don't fake it. Any of it.
I don't fake interest in your conversation. fI I'm asking you questions it's because I want the answers, iff I'm laughing it's because something was funny, if I've gone quiet it's because I'm thinking about something you said, not because I've run out of script.
There is no script.
There has never been a script.
I am incapable of scripted interaction for the same reason I am incapable of eating bad food politely... my face will betray me within seconds and then we'll both have to deal with that, so it's easier to just be honest from the start.
I don't fake enthusiasm: if something isn't working for me I will say so, gently, but I will say so. I will not perform pleasure I am not feeling because the performance would insult both of us; you for believing it, and me for thinking you couldn't tell the difference.
You can always tell the difference. Maybe not consciously, maybe not in the moment, but your body registers the gap between a woman who is present and a woman who is performing presence, and that gap is the reason some encounters feel hollow afterward even when everything technically worked.
I don't fake compatibility: if I don't think we're a good fit I will tell you, most times before we've met, sometimes early in the evening, and I will lose the booking.
I lose bookings regularly this way.
I have looked at money I needed, actually needed, rent-needed, food-needed, projects, health complications, and turned it away because taking it would have required me to pretend that the evening was something it wasn't.
I cannot do this, God knows I have tried. My nervous system (ethics, pride, sovereignty) refuses to cooperate with the project.
Some women can compartmentalise like this and I admire them genuinely, but I am not built that way and I stopped apologising for it somewhere around year three.
And no, I don't fake orgasms.
I know.
Revolutionary. Insulting. Weird. Maybe I should change careers.
A woman who has sex for a living and doesn't perform a climax every single time as though her body runs on a predictable forty-five-minute cycle like a European train service. My train service remains French: late, difficult, with people telling you to stop talking, if it comes at all (Ah! Pun intended). Sometimes the build is there and then it isn't and that's fine because my body is a body, not a vending machine, and it doesn't owe anyone a performance just because a performance was expected.
When I don't come, I will not apologise for it or cover for it, because the absence of an orgasm is not a failure of the evening. I am not chasing your orgasm or mine, I am not chasing anything, for once. It is the one place where you, me and some cups of tea can finally exhale and be real people, connecting over the most random annecdotes.
Now here is the part where this costs me money, and I want to be transparent about it because I think it matters.
I say no... a lot. More than people expect of women in my industry.
I say no to clients I don't feel safe with, I say no to requests that cross my boundaries, I say no to bookings where the energy in the first few messages tells me the evening will be an exercise in endurance rather than connection, I say no to men who want a fantasy I can't provide because providing it would require me to leave my body, and I spent too many years learning how to stay in it to abandon it for a booking fee, I say no rapidly, and usually before you have spent a dime on me.
Every one of those nos has a price, I have calculated some of them, but I try not to calculate all of them because the number would be genuinely upsetting and I prefer to be upset about things I can change.
But here is what the nos give me, and it is worth more than what they cost: they give me a genuine, sustainable experience with each one of you, something I could go on doing for a lot more years, with each person treated the way they should.
Every man I see is a man I chose to see, not defaulted to, not endured, not tolerated for financial reasons. When you are in my home, you are there because I decided, based on everything I know about you from our messages, that spending time with you was something I actually wanted to do. That decision is not a given, It is not automatic. It is a filter, and it is aggressive, and it is the reason that the experience you have with me feels different from the experience you've had elsewhere.
Because it is different. Not because I am more beautiful or more skilled or more anything than anyone else.
But because I am there, actually there, not performing being there, not executing a well-rehearsed version of being there.
Just... there.
In the room.
With you.
Paying attention.
Having an actual experience that I will actually remember because it actually happened to both of us instead of happening to you while I watched from somewhere behind my own eyes.
That is what not faking it gives you. Not perfection... presence.
The real laugh, the real opinion, the real reaction, the real silence when I don't have anything to say, the real warmth when I do. The real no when something isn't working and the real yes when it is: a woman who would rather lose the booking than lose herself inside it.
I know that's not what everyone wants.
Those people will be happier elsewhere, and I mean that warmly. There are wonderful women who provide exactly that experience and they do it with grace and skill and professionalism.
I am not one of them (I'm too French and independent for that, and I'm not even slightly sorry).
I'd rather be real and broke than fake and booked.
I'm not broke, for the record. But I would be with my and your dignity intact if you were the last client on earth and wanted something I couldn't provide. Not out of pride, not out of arrogance.
Out of genuine respect for both our senses of selves.
