Most of the time, being disabled means being treated like I'm invisible or like I'm a problem to be solved. But not with Sophia. From the moment she opened the door, everything was different.
I'd been nervous. Always am. Wheelchair users don't exactly have tons of options for physical intimacy, and every new encounter feels like it could go sideways. Will she know how to help me transfer? Will she be grossed out by my body? Will she treat me like a human or just another task?
Sophia was professional but warm. She asked what I needed, listened when I explained my mobility limits. No awkwardness. No fake pity. Just practical support mixed with genuine connection. When we were together, she didn't try to pretend my disability wasn't there, but she also didn't make it the only thing that mattered.
Sometimes I get so tired of people either staring or looking away. Of being seen as either a medical problem or completely sexless. Sophia saw me. The whole me. Desire, frustration, body that works differently, all of it.
Not every encounter is like this. Not every sex worker understands. But when it works? It's more than just sex. It's being reminded that I'm real. That I'm wanted.