This was how I found myself standing in a Manhattan bordello one night. I had made the decision to take a leap and style myself as a high-priced escort. Not dabble. Not dip in and out. But truly immerse myself in learning this profession to make it my lifestyle and a career. Wearing a long silky gown, a prissy set of pearls, and kitten heels, I stood out (or perhaps under) from the tall, more modelesque girls in vampy dresses. Self-conscious about my flat chest and short stature, I worried I’d never be able to do what they did. But when one asked why I got to wear my “nightgown,” our motherly madam snapped, “Because it’s just her.” And with that, I learned whatever you’ve got going on, you can work it. Overweight? No, you’re zaftig and curvalicious (you can be busy-busy as a BBW — big beautiful woman — escort if you market yourself correctly). Got that goth look, dark-violet hair, and a tattoo or two? There’s a man out there ready to worship you with his dollars. A “boring”-looking librarian (save for the saucy smirk) with an advanced degree, pencil skirt, and glasses? Oh my god, when you own that and work it — all of it — the phones will ring off the hook. Me? I wasn’t “short” but petite. I wasn’t innocent; I was girlish. I learned to celebrate my differences. There is no “cookie cutter” ideal of beauty and character. Men who pay (and men who don’t) want to enjoy the company of an authentic, independent woman simply basking in who she is. Once I understood this my self-confidence exploded and so did my career. I soon left the bordello to work for myself as an independent companion, entertaining in my own apartment and specializing in “the girlfriend experience” as well as escorting my clients out or traveling the world with them.