My family know I am a sex worker.

Well, my parents certainly do. I am not sure about my brothers. It is not something that has come up over our annual "happy birthday" messages sent via Facebook and text.

They are not thrilled about it, but as my Mother put it: "We don't like what you do, but we understand why you do it."

My Dad has held back from any comments that may be construed as accepting of my profession. But I do recall him mentioning he didn't view being a "prostitute" as a career.

We are all entitled to our opinions. And I certainly wasn't going to get into a debate with my Dad about the professionalism and business acumen of WLs.

The thing that changed my Mother's view of what I do is a discussion we had over a boozey lunch one day. I was a little tipsy (damn Bloody Mary's... aren't they supposed to have no alcohol in them? Ooops.. no that would be a VIRGIN Mary... *hiccup*).

I don't know how it came up but when the subject of my work was raised I grabbed it and ran with it (side-stepping and stumbling, half-jogging, half-walking..... damn those Bloody Mary's!). I explained to Mum that I enjoy being a WL. That I get to meet people I would not otherwise meet, lovely and interesting people. I get treated with the utmost respect - much more than my ex boyfriend showed me at the end of our relationship. I get taken out to lovely restaurants and stay in beautiful hotels. I occasionally get gifts. My work "uniform" is sexy lingerie and I have sex. It doesn't sound so very awful does it?

Mum asked me about my clients. Surely, they are unattractive men or they would not have to pay for sex. Actually I have had some smokin' hot clients. But they way I see it, I always find something attractive about the men I spend time with. Or I would not spend time with them. It is entirely my choice as to who I see. For some reason that surprised Mum. Not that I have attractive clients, or that I find something attractive about each client, but that I can say no. I found that odd. She assumed that because someone wanted to see me and they had the means to fund a booking that I would automatically say yes. Wow!

She went on to ask about how I decide who to see and who I do not want to see. First, is manners. And a close second, is the ability to string a few words together to form a sentence. I don't mean a man has to be effusively polite or gushy or that he has to write me a novel but I do appreciate it when a potential (or existing) client does more than grunt "wana fck 2nite?"

The premise behind this is that if a man has manners and some command of the written word we are more likely to get along. Then I am happy for him to say: "Nadine, I am very interested in fucking you tonight. Subject to your availability, of course."

The boozey lunch chat went a long way in terms of parent: sex worker relations. I am proud of the way Mum handles it now. Yesterday I mentioned I had a booking and the location. She went on to calculate my departure time.... "You will need an hour. It takes 45 minutes to get there and the extra 15 minutes will be handy in case of traffic or if you get lost. You don't want to be late."

Indeed I don't.

Thanks Mum!!! xxx