The original Dutch article ‘Eva (55) bezocht een gigolo’, from the Dutch magazine ‘Libelle’, can be read here. The translated text of the article is written out below.
Eva (55) hasn’t been touched by her husband in 18 years. She missed love so much that she decided to book a gigolo. “Those fingers over my skin, I enjoyed that so much.”
“Happy. That’s how I should feel. Satisfied. But that’s not the case. It’s Saturday morning and I feel awful. I’m in bed and don’t want to get out. I cry, my body hurts so much. I am 55 years old and my good years have been wasted. My husband asks what’s wrong with me. “Leave me alone,” I say, crying. “Don’t come near me.” He leaves the bedroom and a moment later I hear the front door close. He is with the dog around the block.”
“Yesterday I spent 3 wonderful hours in a hotel room with a gigolo. I’ve been thinking about it for months. I told my husband: ‘If you don’t touch me, I’ll look for a gigolo’. We are now married for over 37 years but for the last 18 years of our marriage he hasn’t even hugged me. He can’t, he doesn’t want to and he won’t talk about it. It’s a loveless relationship and I’ve craved attention for years. For a warm body, to physical contact, to someone holding me.”
“In recent years I have become increasingly ill. Rheumatism, osteoarthritis, always in pain. Working is no longer possible. I am alive, but I don’t feel it. I want to feel again… I even discussed with my doctor that I want to hire a gigolo. “It will do you good”, he said.
“On the internet I searched endlessly for a suitable candidate. A gigolo who works for a company easily asks € 450 and I cannot afford that. And there is an incredible amount of pulp among the men who offer themselves. But in the end I came across a nice and affordable gigolo of 42 years old with rave reviews of women on his site. Gentle, understanding, respectful, professional. I sent him an email to explain my situation. That this was not just a slip for me. He responded very pleasant. Once I had made the decision, I immediately wanted an appointment. It had to happen, I had to feel a body against me. He arranged a hotel room.”
“I’m lying in bed and screaming like a wounded animal. All my sadness comes out. I never thought I’d be so upset. I’m trying to reconstruct the hours. Yesterday morning I first walked the dog and then I took a long bath. I stood in front of the mirror, in my new lingerie, and thought: oh girl, that body, those handles, that ass… So insecure but also very excited I drove to the hotel in the afternoon. I knocked on the door and when he opened the door, I asked: ‘Can I still run away or not?’ He opened his arms and I dived in. I clung to him. ‘It’s good the way it is’, he said and immediately put me at ease.”
“Within 5 minutes I had my clothes off and we had sex. It just had to happen. Those few hours flew by. After the act I lay with him and he stroked my arms. Those fingers over my skin, I enjoyed that so much. I found it sweet and endearing. Then I paid him, € 300 and the hotel costs. Money that I secretly withheld from the household pot and saved stamps. He asked if I want to make a new appointment. Yes, I would love to. In about 6 weeks again.”
“Stop it, I tell myself. I’m not a crybaby at all, but I can’t stop anymore. I have to cry even harder when I get a message from my gigolo on my mobile. ‘Enjoy yourself.’ In the afternoon I get out of bed. I have a hard time getting dressed. My whole body hurts. I feel down. So I’ve been missing this all these years, I think. It’s too painful. I decide to call my therapist, I need help. I tell her about my experience with the gigolo and how I am now overwhelmed with grief. ‘Oh girl,’ she says, ‘how lonely you have been all these years.'”
“My husband comes home with the dog. I don’t say a word to him and he leaves me alone. What I feel has long ceased to interest him. No, I don’t hate him. Nor do I feel guilty. Because of this experience, I suddenly realize that I have to start organizing my life again. I have been lonely for too long. In the evenings on the sofa I think about my gigolo and fantasize about winning the lottery. With that money, I can meet him in a hotel room every week. Just the thought gives me a little energy.”