I've been thinking a lot about how whiteness operates in this industry, especially in Dublin. There's this weird dance that happens, where race is always present but rarely spoken about directly. Most of my clients are white Irish men, and they have a particular way of seeing me that's complicated.
Some want to perform a kind of exotic fantasy. They see me as Nigerian first, escort second. I can feel the colonial gaze, even when they're trying to be polite. It's not always malicious. Sometimes it's just deep, unexamined assumptions about who I am and what I represent.
Other clients are different. They want to pretend race doesn't exist. They'll go out of their way to tell me how they 'don't see color' which, honestly, is its own kind of violence. Not seeing me means not seeing my full humanity.
The city's changing, though. Dublin isn't the same mono-cultural space it was a decade ago. Mixed-race experiences like mine are becoming more common. But in this industry? We're still working through some deep patterns.
I don't hate my clients. I'm just observant. And sometimes that observation is a form of survival.