People look down upon them with an eerie of disgust. They have branded them demeaning names such as, ‘prostitutes, sex workers, whores, sluts, hookers,…’ Yet surprisingly enough, under the cover of secrecy, men and women alike seek and relish them with praise for their perversion and free spirit.

How else can you explain how this age-old profession has survived the worst economic turmoil, and relentless religious and social opposition. It is our default setting to condemn people for their sexual deviances.

See: Why Do Men Pay for Sex? Sex Trade Secrets Revealed

Without justifying anything, we have to admit that we are all sick in our own way. As such, lets us set our prejudice aside and try to understand what drives a woman to become a sex worker.

3 Women Confess Why and How They Became Sex Workers

These 3 women give a blow by blow account about how they wound up being prostitutes. The names used in these accounts are pseudonyms to protect their identity.

Lisa: What Can I say, I needed more money than my parents were willing to give.

I come from a middle-class family. I went to good schools, that’s how I ended up at a private university, pursuing a degree in communications. My parents are staunch Christians. They have always provided what I need.

So after getting tired of lying about school trips and illnesses to get extra cash, I decided that it’s time to get my own money. Sheila an old friend of mine told to try out some bikini modeling gig that apparently pays good cash.

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Sheila has always been complaining about how her college degree is literally worthless. She’s never been able to land a job since she graduated. The gig turned out to be an escorts recruitment cover up.

The money and the benefits they were offering were so good, I couldn’t turn the job down.  The recruiters talked of traveling the world with the rich and famous. All we had to do is to sign a non-disclosure agreement.

However, a month into the work, it hit me that I was just a common whore, working in a brothel. There was nothing like traveling the world in first class and dining in 7-star hotels. The pay was also not as good as earlier indicated.

So I decided to freelance. By this time, I was living in an upscale neighborhood. The strategy was to hang or work in high-end clubs where I could meet the rich and famous. I also got my Instagram game on fleek. Soon I had 30k+ followers. I was getting hits on my DM like a M%#f*k&R.

The problem is that most of these guys were broke. Freelancing also meant that I couldn’t always get steady clients to support my lifestyle. I kept off, online escort websites because I was afraid that information would leak out that I was a sex worker.

As such, once in a while, I had to go back to the ‘agency’ to supplement my income. So this day, while I was with a client, the agency was raided by cops. Soon I was in cuffs, half-naked on my to the police station.

I couldn’t imagine having a criminal record that showed that I was a prostitute. Since I was in a Christian school, chances were, I would also be expelled. Not to mention that, if my dad got wind of such news, I bet a heart attack would send him to an early grave.

I Literary begged the cops to let me go. “Since you don’t have enough cash,” one cop asked, “Would you be willing to offer what you are good at for your freedom?”

I remember the details like yesterday. It was a chilly night in the middle of nowhere. Luckily the landrover’s bonnet was warm enough to keep the cold at bay. I bit my lip and clenched my fist as the three cops took turns, while the fourth one was on the lookout.

They had the courtesy to drop me close to my place. The loud one said sarcastically as I hastily alighted, ‘now the merchandise has been tried, tested and certified by the government.’ The rest busted out in hysterical laughter.

Though I’ve had low moments in my life, this was the rock bottom. I got depressed to a point that contemplated suicide. Worst of all, I couldn’t share with anyone about what I had gone through.

I was so done with being an escort, until two months later when I was badly in need for quick cash. The problem is that the 9-5 job can’t really give me the money am’ used to. I never went back to the agency though. I now focus only on the high-end clients, which is much safer.

Am not proud to say, I have had unprotected sex with clients more often than not. It’s a miracle I haven’t contracted a terrible STI. At least not one that I know of.

Carol: Poverty Drove Me To Prostitution

I come from a very poor background. I know most of you have had to contend with challenges in life. But I can bet none of you had to deal with going for days without food.

When you are the blink of starvation, trust me, there is little you can’t do to survive. I was raised by a single mother. She couldn’t even afford to take me through high school. However, am glad to say that after ‘hoeing’ enough, I took myself back to school and now I go about my business like I hold 2 Doctorate degrees.

Talking of degrees, one thing that I have really mastered is how to make men happy. I am a high-end escort. Not even my closest friends have a whiff of suspicion about how I earn my money. I have invested in a large boutique shop, which portrays me as an outstanding business lady.

Read: 5 Sure-Fire Ways To Become Young And Rich

I first got into the business by running home call massage adverts. Then I would charge the guys an extra fee for a happy ending. I ended up marrying one of the guys who later left me with one kid and no child support.

I had to fend for my child so I stepped my game up. Soon I discovered Tinder, the congregation point for sex-starved rich men. Most of them have serious issues in their marriages, other have fantasies they want to fulfil…

See: Why Do Men Pay for Sex?

The fact that am I drop dead gorgeous and I have got a ‘million-dollar p***y’ as they say, I never run short of customers. My clientele is mainly prominent politicians, rich businessmen and the well to do working-class men.

They always come back after the first session. Some try to make me their mistress, others want me to have their child. Others keep sending me cash and gifts months after our first encounter.

This is probably because I treat our encounters as dates rather than a mechanical sexual escapade. One of my politician clients has hooked me up with a great job (event manager) in a chain of clubs.

I have not seen a client for the past one year or so because I have a two-month-old child. Moreover, since I have got a job, a business and a supportive baby daddy, I am thinking of quitting. However, I am not sure if this will be possible.

The only bad experience I’ve had besides always having a lingering fear that a client may turn out to be a serial killer is with an Asian guy was in his 5o’s. We had met in a nice restaurant out of town and then drove to his place. He only wanted to talk and a little touching.

At 6:00 AM, he woke me up and told me we had to go because he had business to attend to. He drove silently eyes focused on the road. The air was tense. I tried to break the silence, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

It seemed he had regrets about hooking up with a sex worker. He dropped me in a back alley and without looking at me, he bid me goodbye and drove off.

Though at times I get to enjoy my encounters especially if I like the guy, I always get a feeling of guilt after we are done. It funny how I have never been able to shake that feeling to date.

However, this time around, I felt like a worthless piece of trash. So please be nice to sex workers when you are done, we too are humans with feelings.

Lisa: I am a victim of Sex Trafficking

When I hear girls tell stories about why they became sex workers, most of the time my mind goes, ‘bi*ch please!’ The most hilarious one I’ve heard is ‘I became a prostitute to pay for my college fees.’

“Most of them actually love D**k and are glad to get paid to do what they love.” I’m not trying to act holy here, I also admit deep down I enjoyed (sometimes) being paid for sex but I also have my own regrets.

Prostitution chose me. I have never known my real parents and was raised in three different foster homes. Life has never been easy for me.

I was sexually abused by one of my ‘dad’s’. When I told my ‘mom’, she ignored it and later said I was making the stories up. I ran away and ended up in another foster family.

I was 14 when I met Tony who was 19. He was charming, showered me with love (like no other person ever had) and he had money. I was in love.

See: How Unhealthy Daddy Issues Ruin Your Sex Life

He convinced me to start making my own money. He said he has lots of respect for women willing to do what it takes to get to the next level.

But this time, I was snorting cocaine on daily basis, hitting the bottle heavily, and was always on painkillers and a couple of other drugs. Soon, I was making more money than I had imagined. I just did whatever they paid for.

A month into the business, Tony started coming up with reasons why he needed some cash from me. I was happy to offer anyway. Soon enough, he had run out of reasons and started demanding for money.

He officially became my PIMP. Drug addictions had also caught up with me. I was spending thousands of dollars on drugs each month.

It got to a point that I was using everything I made to buy drugs. I was literally selling sex to pay for drugs. Within two years, I had slept with over 500 men and dozens of women. I could have sex with up to 12 men per day.

I was arrested while I was out on a ‘stink’. Having established that I was a minor, I was taken through the rehabilitation process. It is then I got to understand that I was actually a sex slave. I had never considered myself a victim until then.

Now I have gone back to school. I am always fighting the urge to go back to prostitution and drugs. Getting quick cash is addictive you know.

My shrink says I need to start building on my sense of self-worth to avoid relapsing. She says, my history of abuse by my dad and by men while I was a prostitute has left me deeply wounded.