IN SHORT
- Katija worked at a top accounting firm in Sydney for three years after graduating with a degree in Accountancy and Buinsess Law.
- Growing up, she was taught that life followed the same script: get a job, buy a home, marry and have a family.
- She never wanted a cookie cutter life and hated her job, but didn’t know a way out.
- One day, a friend had a suggestion… hiring herself out as a professional girlfriend.
- Over the years, she’s had a range of unique requests!
- Here Katija Cortez, 29, from Sydney, NSW, shares her story…
A single tear traced a hot line down my cheek, and I brushed it away with a trembling finger.
“I hate my job,” I confessed to my friend. “I don’t know how much longer I can stomach it.”
“Quit then,” she said simply.
It was 2021, and I’d been working at a top accounting firm in Sydney for three years after graduating with a degree in Accountancy and Business Law.
Growing up, my parents drilled into me the value of getting a degree and climbing the corporate ladder.
Most of my friends followed the same script: get a job, buy a house, marry, start a family.
I’d never wanted that cookie-cutter life, but I couldn’t see a way out.
At first, I was brimming with naïve excitement.
But the shine quickly faded.
The work was relentless – financial statements, audits, endless reports.
I was constantly chasing deadlines, surviving on coffee and adrenaline.
Read more: After years of abuse, I hired an escort… and something remarkable happened
One morning, I found a colleague sobbing at her desk.
“I made a mistake on a big report, and management is furious,” she whispered.
Scenes like that weren’t unusual.
Tempers flared, and everyone lived in fear of slipping up.
The hours were brutal, and when I complained to my parents, they just laughed.
“Nobody enjoys their job, love,” Dad said. “Welcome to the real world.”
So, I swallowed my frustration and cried quietly in the bathroom.
But I knew I couldn’t keep going like that.
That night, my friend introduced me to a girl who would change everything.
“What do you do for work?” I asked her.
“I’m an escort,” she replied.
I was stunned.
Growing up, I’d been taught escorts were desperate or immoral.
But she was smart, confident, and, surprisingly, just like me.
We became friends, and soon I met others in the industry.
They weren’t what I’d expected either – funny, warm, ambitious, some juggling study or saving for a home.
They talked openly about their jobs, and instead of shame, there was empowerment.
One evening, over dinner, I admitted, “I’ve just quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”
“Would you ever consider escorting?” one asked.
The thought had crossed my mind. Their freedom was tempting.
When one offered to connect me with an agency, I nervously agreed.
A few days later, I spoke to the owners, a friendly couple.
“We treat our girls with respect,” the woman assured me. “Your safety is our priority.”
Soon after, she explained the bookings: bucks parties, girlfriend experiences, full service.
“For full service, you’d start at $800 an hour,” she told me.
It felt surreal. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll give it a go.”
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My first job was awful – an hour in a filthy apartment with a grinning client.
The smell, the mess, the way the curtains blocked out daylight – it all made my skin crawl.
Back in my car, I sobbed to my friend.
“That was awful,” I cried.
“That’s an outlier,” she told me. “Try again.”
The next booking was the opposite.
A respectful businessman welcomed me to his waterfront mansion, offered sparkling water, and we spent the evening watching TV and chatting about finance.
He was polite, charming, and genuinely easy to be around.
That night shifted something inside me.
From there, I eased into the industry.
I wasn’t a huge fan of the bucks parties, but the freedom was undeniable.
I chose when and how often I worked, a total contrast to the grind of the office.
After three months, I left the agency and went out on my own.
Suddenly, I was running a business – setting my own rates, screening clients, managing bookings. The independence was exhilarating.
Some men didn’t even want sex.
One paid me $4000 to watch State of Origin with him!
He requested I wear no makeup, have natural hair and a cocktail dress that he chose.
“I get lonely,” he admitted.
Another wanted to lose his virginity respectfully.
“I never felt confident,” he told me afterwards. “This made me feel worthy.”
Using social media, I attracted successful, like-minded clients.
Within two years, I owned two properties.
That was when I told my parents.
Sitting on their couch, my mouth went dry.
“I’ve been working as an escort. I just bought my second house,” I told them.
Dad grinned.
“Like the girls from the Playboy Mansion? Good on you,” he said.
Mum looked stunned. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she said. “As long as you’re safe.”
For weeks, she asked small questions here and there, trying to understand. Do they treat you well? Do you ever feel scared?
In time, she came around. Seeing me thriving, not struggling, put her at ease.
Now, five years on, I don’t see myself quitting.
I treat it like a corporate career: I invest wisely, set goals, and save.
Only now, I’m my own boss.
I have regular clients – some want full service, others just companionship.
One week, I might be watching Netflix; the next, I could be on a multimillion-dollar yacht.
The lifestyle also lets me focus on myself – more gym time, self-care, and even a breast augmentation I’d always wanted.
Most importantly, I no longer dread Monday mornings.
I don’t feel trapped.
My life is mine.
Right now, I’m not actively dating or looking to settle down but that could change.
For now, escorting is my career and my pride.
And honestly? I’ve never been happier.
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