A man reached out to me the other day. Didn’t ask for anything, just needed to talk, quietly, no agenda, no ego. He said he sees working girls sometimes — not for kicks, not for power … just for peace.
His words stuck with me: “It’s not really about sex. I just want to feel safe.”
Safe, Seen, Maybe touched in a way that doesn’t feel like a transaction or an obligation. I’ve thought about him ever since. My heart breaks for this man. He’s not soft. He’s not weak. He’s the kind of man who shows up, day in, day out. Pays the bills. Stays loyal. Keeps his promises.
And still — he sleeps next to someone who barely looks at him anymore. At home, touch is rare. Eye contact’s a miracle. Sex? Sure, sometimes - but it’s controlled, withheld, timed and when it comes, it feels like charity — like she’s ticking off a box.
So he walks through your door, not to cheat, not to betray, but to remember what it feels like to be wanted. Just for a bit.
Because you see these men. Not the loud ones trying to flex. Not the drunk ones showing off. I mean the quiet ones. The men who sit a little too still. Speak a little too politely. Carry a kind of sadness they don’t know how to name.
You see:
You see the wreckage — but you never call it that. Somehow, you hold space for him even when he can’t quite say what he needs, even when all he can do is sit there, staring at the floor, trying to hold it together. You give him something money can’t buy: presence.
Can I ask you something real? How do you manage this? Do you know straight away when he’s one of the hurting ones?
Does it weigh on you when a man walks in carrying everything he’s too ashamed to tell his wife? Because I feel it — and I’m not even in the room.
So I can’t imagine what it’s like to be the one holding that space.
These aren’t bad men, they’re not creeps, not looking to get their rocks off. They’re just… done. Empty. Lonely in a way they can’t explain to anyone else.
They come to you because you’re the only one who sees them without judgment. I’m not trying to glamorise it. There’s nothing poetic about pain when it becomes your daily reality. But I reckon we need to talk about it more — because this is happening.
Men are showing up in brothels not for thrills, but for connection, for a moment of warmth … and that deserves to be acknowledged. Because when a man’s last place to feel human is a room he’s paid to enter — What does that say about the rest of his life? And what does that do to the women who meet him in that moment?
You might not always realise it, but you’re holding up more than just a business. You’re holding men together. You’re giving them the smallest window back into what it means to feel wanted. Even for a moment ... That matters. And it stays with them long after they leave.
And to the man who messaged me: You’re not weak. You’re not broken. You’re just carrying more than you should have to, alone. There are others like you and if you’re reading this — you’re not invisible anymore.
To the women who know these men and still choose to show up — How do you do it? I’d love to hear your stories. I think they matter more than most people realise.
Author: Master Yoda
FOR: Langtrees.com
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“Great read Master Yoda..... ”
“ Powerful read. It’s a reminder that sometimes, it’s not just about sex — it’s about someone silently reaching out, needing connection, comfort, or simply to feel seen. This blog hits deep.”
“To the women who do this emotional labour, thank you. You’re doing more than most people ever realise.”
“This article delves into the complex depths of men who carry the weight of unspoken pain. When men hide their pain, they will experience various problems. A deep sense of emotional, potentially related to his relationships, sexuality, or personal struggles. It’s like carrying a huge load of worries. They come to you to talk openly about their mental health struggles because they know that you’re the only one who sees them without judgment. Be a friend and listen to them, talk to them, and support them. It can make a big difference to them.”
“Brilliantly articulated Master Yoda, deeply felt.”
“When a man is emotionally overwhelmed, he may seek connection not solely for intimacy, but as a means of finding support and solace in a difficult moment. ”
“I am not a man so therefore will not comment on how a man feels.. interesting read...”
“This is one of the most moving, compassionate pieces I’ve read in a long time. It shines a light on the quiet, aching loneliness many men carry and the often-unseen emotional labour performed by sex workers who meet them with dignity, not judgment. This isn’t about sex — it’s about survival, connection, and being seen. The way this blog honours both the men who are silently drowning and the women who offer them humanity is powerful. Thank you for giving voice to something that is rarely discussed. It matters. And I hope more people begin to truly understand the depth of it.”
“ A man wants peace, not sex—longing to feel safe, seen, and wanted. Thank you”
“Thanks, Master Yoga, I understand how it feels. A man reached out, not for sex, but for peace. He just wanted to feel safe, seen, and wanted. You see these quiet men, carrying unspoken pain, offering them warmth and presence when they need it most. Thank you.”
“Thanks Master Yoga for another great read - very insightful indeed”
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