After five years of putting myself out there and getting nowhere, I’ve finally stopped trying to date. I went all in—I approached women respectfully, tried to be thoughtful and self-aware, and forced myself to treat each rejection as something impersonal, just part of the process. But after more than a hundred rejections, the “don’t take it personally” mantra just stopped working. The frustration started eating away at me, and eventually, the pain turned into self-hate.
So, I let go. I stopped caring about what was “supposed” to happen and started seeing escorts. I know it’s not everyone’s answer, but I felt actual relief—real, human touch, no mind games, no humiliation, no pretending. For a few days afterward, I felt whole. Now my goal is just to make enough money so I can see an escort a few times a month and not worry about the financial hit. Weirdly, it’s a more attainable, straightforward goal than dating ever was. At least the effort gets results, instead of disappointment and self-doubt.
But here’s the thing: part of me still wonders if I’m just running from something or settling for less. I don’t know if I’m finding peace or just numbing myself. Is this a dead end, or is it okay to accept that this is the best I can do? Am I missing out on something by giving up on traditional relationships, or is this just what works for some of us?
First, I just want to say thank you for writing in and for being so honest. It takes guts to put your story out there, especially when it feels like the world is screaming that there’s only one “right” way to do things. You’re not broken. You’re not a lost cause. You’re a human being who’s been through a lot, and you’re trying to figure out how to keep your head above water. I respect that.
But let’s get real. What you’re describing isn’t just about dating or escorts or touch—it’s about pain. It’s about loneliness. It’s about running face-first into rejection over and over until you feel numb, and then searching for something—anything—that takes that pain away, even for a little while.
And listen, I get it. After enough hurt, the idea of paying for connection can feel like a lifeline. No judgment here. But here’s the hard truth: paid connection is just a quick fix. It’s like taking painkillers for a broken leg—yeah, you’ll feel better for a little while, but you’re not healing. You’re just covering up the real problem. And that problem? It’s deep. It’s about self-worth, trust, belonging, and a world that makes us all feel disposable sometimes.
I don’t say this to shame you, man. I say it because you deserve more. Real relationships are messy. They’re full of rejection, confusion, and heartbreak, but they’re also where the good stuff is: belonging, acceptance, growth. And yes, it’s terrifying to open yourself up again after you’ve been hurt. But numbing out—whether it’s with escorts, booze, work, or anything else—won’t fill that hole inside. It’ll just make it deeper.
So what do you do? Start by being honest with yourself about what you really want. Do you want comfort, or do you want connection? Are you chasing relief, or are you ready to try healing? There’s nothing wrong with needing touch and affection, but don’t convince yourself that settling for a transaction is the same thing as intimacy. It’s not.
You’re not alone in this. A lot of guys—hell, a lot of people—are quietly hurting, quietly giving up, quietly hoping there’s another way. There is. But it takes work. It takes community. It takes reaching out and being vulnerable, even when it feels impossible. You might need to talk to a counselor. You might need to find a group of guys you can be real with. You might need to rebuild your sense of worth, brick by brick.
You asked for advice, so here it is: Don’t give up on yourself. Don’t give up on real connection. Don’t settle for numbing when what you really need is healing. You deserve to be known, loved, and accepted—not just for what you can buy, but for who you are.
Take care of yourself, brother. And keep going.