Friday, January 15, 2010

Dealing with Rejection from Women

Friday, January 15, 2010
There's been an uptick in emails recently, with many people asking me how my emotions play into my work as an escort.

Some have gone so far as to refer to me as a "stud", or at the very least someone who's quite adept with the opposite sex, as well as, well, having sex with the opposite sex. How did I get so confident? Do I ever suffer from insecurity or self-doubt? Was I always this way?

That last question -- Was I always this way? -- got me thinking. Again, it seems I'm stuck in J.D. Salinger territory -- meaning everything goes back to adolescence. And let me tell you, when I was a teenager, Julian didn't exist. I was just the old, boring me. Not an athlete, not a scholar (though I did go on to graduate from a Top 50 University), just kind of... normal.

I remember specifically the first time I was rejected by a girl. It was eighth grade, and she flat out told me that she thought of me as more of a "friend" rather than a boyfriend. Not something a fourteen-year-old wants to hear. And, unfortunately, this was something that would be echoed throughout my high school years.

Towards the end of my senior year, however, something changed. Not just the fact that I lost my virginity in a blur, after a warm spring night led to a bit of drinking and... well, you know.

I got taller, a bit thinner. More confident, perhaps, due to the fact that my wonderful parents took me on trips from New York to Los Angeles. Still, by that point, I wasn't interested in girls -- I was interested in women.

Grown women -- they were the ones I found attractive. Mid to late-twenties, and into the early-thirties. Smart, confident, well-traveled women that could introduce me to a whole new world. I was young, handsome, after all. Looking back, I probably could have sampled the dating pool at my high school a bit more aggressively at that point. And yes, the fact that I had two separate girls ask me to the senior prom was probably a hint that I'd become more desirable.

(For the record, I ditched the senior prom, and asked my parents for another trip to New York City instead. Seeing how it was senior year, they kindly obliged.)

So after I graduated high school and took a bit of time off before starting university, something happened. Her name was Catherine -- the married woman with whom I had an affair. If being rejected in my mid-teens was the price to pay for being with her in the end, well it was worth it. And so, as some of my close friends have theorized, Julian was born.

Bailey is at the forefront of this theory. He's not trained in the social sciences, but he is quite perceptive at times. According to him, Julian was born the minute I, the real me, realized I was desirable to older women. That my youth, kindness, even my "boyish innocence" was something that they found charming.

I suppose it just took moving to Miami so that Julian could spread his wings.

In any event, I still vastly prefer older women. The only exception was Rebecca, and I don't see that happening again any time soon. I might be wrong, of course, but she was something special. Until then, I have plenty of women to keep me occupied. Not girls, women. If being an escort has taught me anything, it's that there's a big difference.

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