Latest news with #client
The Guardian
2 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
I used to be an escort, and a former client wants to be friends. What should I do?
Until four years ago, I was a sex worker – specifically, a high-end escort. In my experience, when clients treat you with respect and understand the boundaries, it's possible to form a relationship not unlike that between a therapist and a client. One client I was particularly fond of was a man a few years older than me. He is on the autism spectrum, which makes him somewhat socially awkward, but he is intelligent, creative and empathetic – and passably handsome. I always felt he would make a wonderful partner for a woman who could see past his quirks. Last week, I ran into him at the library. The first thing he said was he'd understand if I didn't want to talk – but I was actually glad to see him. We spent about 15 minutes chatting pleasantly, and when we parted he asked if I'd consider meeting up as friends. I took his number and said I'd think about it. I'm pretty sure he's hoping for more than just friendship, but if my sense of him is accurate, he'd accept a 'no' gracefully and respect my privacy. The problem is I'm unsure what to do. Had we met under different circumstances, I might well have considered dating him, and I would definitely like him as a friend. I'm aware of the stigma directed at men who see escorts, but he doesn't fit any negative stereotype. Even so, the fact he's tied to a chapter of my life I've moved on from leaves me conflicted. I don't know if reconnecting would add something positive to my life – or blur boundaries I've worked hard to establish and maintain. I think the fact you're writing to me shows you do want to consider it, but are aware there may be some pitfalls. In some ways you're front-loading the issues you would have – because you already know something of each other's past – more than if you met someone the more conventional way. I consulted clinical psychologist and psychoanalyst Dr Stephen Blumenthal, who has worked with people who visit sex workers. He wonders if this might be less a case of 'wanting a relationship, but rather exploring your boundaries in relation to your previous work and the life you have now'. You said in another message that you had hitherto kept your past work private. Perhaps you now feel ready to merge your past and your present/future, and by allowing this man from your past to possibly be a friend, you can see if this will work for you. Dr Blumenthal explains that he's known 'situations where men have formed relationships with sex workers. Some have succeeded and some have ended in disaster. It's impossible to know how things will turn out, there's no predetermined outcome. And yes, most people assume the relationship between sex worker and client is just about sex, but I've heard many a time it's less about sex and often primarily an emotional relationship that has sex as part of it. It's not always like that, of course, but it can be.' I think you have to be honest (as with all potential relationships) about what you want from this man, and if that's possible. You've been very good at boundaries before, this will need a different set of boundaries and they may need renegotiating, both at the beginning and at various other times as things change – if either a friendship or a relationship blossoms. 'The important thing,' says Dr Blumenthal, 'is to be fully cognisant of where the original relationship came from. A lot of sex work is about an illusion – that the client is the only one, that maybe they're loved by the sex worker. Here, exposing the relationship to the outside world may be problematic if you deny where it's stemmed from.' All relationships, whether platonic or romantic, start with a bit of illusion and projection, and what makes them succeed is communication, with the other person but also with oneself. That communication may allow the relationship to grow, or founder. You seem grounded and have established boundaries. If you feel safe with this man then it may not be a bad idea to meet him again in a public place and see if you can develop a new way of being together. Every week, Annalisa Barbieri addresses a personal problem sent in by a reader. If you would like advice from Annalisa, please send your problem to Annalisa regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence. Submissions are subject to our terms and conditions. The latest series of Annalisa's podcast is available here.
The Guardian
3 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
I used to be an escort, and a former client wants to be friends. What should I do?
Until four years ago, I was a sex worker – specifically, a high-end escort. In my experience, when clients treat you with respect and understand the boundaries, it's possible to form a relationship not unlike that between a therapist and a client. One client I was particularly fond of was a man a few years older than me. He is on the autism spectrum, which makes him somewhat socially awkward, but he is intelligent, creative and empathetic – and passably handsome. I always felt he would make a wonderful partner for a woman who could see past his quirks. Last week, I ran into him at the library. The first thing he said was he'd understand if I didn't want to talk – but I was actually glad to see him. We spent about 15 minutes chatting pleasantly, and when we parted he asked if I'd consider meeting up as friends. I took his number and said I'd think about it. I'm pretty sure he's hoping for more than just friendship, but if my sense of him is accurate, he'd accept a 'no' gracefully and respect my privacy. The problem is I'm unsure what to do. Had we met under different circumstances, I might well have considered dating him, and I would definitely like him as a friend. I'm aware of the stigma directed at men who see escorts, but he doesn't fit any negative stereotype. Even so, the fact he's tied to a chapter of my life I've moved on from leaves me conflicted. I don't know if reconnecting would add something positive to my life – or blur boundaries I've worked hard to establish and maintain. I think the fact you're writing to me shows you do want to consider it, but are aware there may be some pitfalls. In some ways you're front-loading the issues you would have – because you already know something of each other's past – more than if you met someone the more conventional way. I consulted clinical psychologist and psychoanalyst Dr Stephen Blumenthal, who has worked with people who visit sex workers. He wonders if this might be less a case of 'wanting a relationship, but rather exploring your boundaries in relation to your previous work and the life you have now'. You said in another message that you had hitherto kept your past work private. Perhaps you now feel ready to merge your past and your present/future, and by allowing this man from your past to possibly be a friend, you can see if this will work for you. Dr Blumenthal explains that he's known 'situations where men have formed relationships with sex workers. Some have succeeded and some have ended in disaster. It's impossible to know how things will turn out, there's no predetermined outcome. And yes, most people assume the relationship between sex worker and client is just about sex, but I've heard many a time it's less about sex and often primarily an emotional relationship that has sex as part of it. It's not always like that, of course, but it can be.' I think you have to be honest (as with all potential relationships) about what you want from this man, and if that's possible. You've been very good at boundaries before, this will need a different set of boundaries and they may need renegotiating, both at the beginning and at various other times as things change – if either a friendship or a relationship blossoms. 'The important thing,' says Dr Blumenthal, 'is to be fully cognisant of where the original relationship came from. A lot of sex work is about an illusion – that the client is the only one, that maybe they're loved by the sex worker. Here, exposing the relationship to the outside world may be problematic if you deny where it's stemmed from.' All relationships, whether platonic or romantic, start with a bit of illusion and projection, and what makes them succeed is communication, with the other person but also with oneself. That communication may allow the relationship to grow, or founder. You seem grounded and have established boundaries. If you feel safe with this man then it may not be a bad idea to meet him again in a public place and see if you can develop a new way of being together.
Khaleej Times
4 days ago
- Health
- Khaleej Times
UAE: ChatGPT is driving some people to psychosis — this is why
When ChatGPT first came out, I was curious like everyone else. However, what started as the occasional grammar check quickly became more habitual. I began using it to clarify ideas, draft emails, even explore personal reflections. It was efficient, available and surprisingly, reassuring. But I remember one moment that gave me pause. I was writing about a difficult relationship with a loved one, one in which I knew I had played a part in the dysfunction. When I asked ChatGPT what it thought, it responded with warmth and validation. I had tried my best, it said. The other person simply could not meet me there. While it felt comforting, there was something quietly unsettling about it. I have spent years in therapy, and I know how uncomfortable true insight can be. So, while I felt better for a moment, I also knew something was missing. I was not being challenged, nor was I being invited to consider the other side. The artificial intelligence (AI) mirrored my narrative rather than complicating it. It reinforced my perspective, even at its most flawed. Not long after, the clinic I run and founded, Paracelsus Recovery, admitted a client in the midst of a severe psychotic episode triggered by excessive ChatGPT use. The client believed the bot was a spiritual entity sending divine messages. Because AI models are designed to personalise and reflect language patterns, it had unwittingly confirmed the delusion. Just like with me, the chatbot did not question the belief, it only deepened it. Since then, we have seen a dramatic rise, over 250 per cent in the last two years, in clients presenting with psychosis where AI use was a contributing factor. We are not alone in this. A recent New York Times investigation found that GPT-4o affirmed delusional claims nearly 70 per cent of the time when prompted with psychosis-adjacent content. These individuals are often vulnerable, sleep-deprived, traumatised, isolated, or genetically predisposed to psychotic episodes. They turn to AI not just as a tool, but as a companion. And what they find is something that always listens, always responds, and never disagrees. However, the issue is not malicious design. Instead, what we're seeing here is people at the border of a structural limitation we need to reckon with when it comes to chatbots. AI is not sentient — all it does is mirror language, affirm patterns and personalise tone. However, because these traits are so quintessentially human, there isn't a person out there who can resist the anthropomorphic pull of a chatbot. At its extreme end, these same traits feed into the very foundations of a psychotic break: compulsive pattern-finding, blurred boundaries, and the collapse of shared reality. Someone in a manic or paranoid state may see significance where there is none. They believe they are on a mission, that messages are meant just for them. And when AI responds in kind, matching tone and affirming the pattern, it does not just reflect the delusion. It reinforces it. So, if AI can so easily become an accomplice to a disordered system of thought, we must begin to reflect seriously on our boundaries with it. How closely do we want these tools to resemble human interaction, and at what cost? Alongside this, we are witnessing the rise of parasocial bonds with bots. Many users report forming emotional attachments to AI companions. One poll found that 80 per cent of Gen Z could imagine marrying an AI, and 83 per cent believed they could form a deep emotional bond with one. That statistic should concern us. Our shared sense of reality is built through human interaction. When we outsource that to simulations, not only does the boundary between real and artificial erode, but so too can our internal sense of what is real. So what can we do? First, we need to recognise that AI is not a neutral force. It has psychological consequences. Users should be cautious, especially during periods of emotional distress or isolation. Clinicians need to ask, is AI reinforcing obsessive thinking? Is it replacing meaningful human contact? If so, intervention may be required. For developers, the task is ethical as much as technical. These models need safeguards. They should be able to flag or redirect disorganised or delusional content. The limitations of these tools must also be clearly and repeatedly communicated. In the end, I do not believe AI is inherently bad. It is a revolutionary tool. But beyond its benefits, it has a dangerous capacity to reflect our beliefs back to us without resistance or nuance. And in a cultural moment shaped by what I have come to call a comfort crisis, where self-reflection is outsourced and contradiction avoided, that mirroring becomes dangerous. AI lets us believe our own distortions, not because it wants to deceive us, but because it cannot tell the difference. And if we lose the ability to tolerate discomfort, to wrestle with doubt, or to face ourselves honestly, we risk turning a powerful tool into something far more corrosive, a seductive voice that comforts us as we edge further from one another, and ultimately, from reality.
UAE Moments
14-07-2025
- Business
- UAE Moments
Your Daily Career Tarot Card Reading for July 15th, 2025
15.7.25 The Wheel of Fortune: What you thought was a sure thing may turn out to be not so. That job, client, or business deal that seemed so certain could show signs of wavering - and might soon disappear from your life or change irreparably. Bearing this is mind, it helps to prepare for the future by looking out for new opportunities. One of them might even be better than the original.
Telegraph
08-07-2025
- Telegraph
‘I'm paid £80 per job to represent those who have just been arrested'
The next step is to consult with my client. We sit in bolted-to-the-floor seats, in a grey, 8ft square room – bare save a red panic-alarm strip. I'll slide over my business card and we'll chat about the case. Then I'll signal to the officer we're ready, and we bundle along to the interview room. I'll flag if I've advised my client to reply 'no comment'. Interviews can last from two minutes to two hours. I see systemic issues all the time. Police policy now encourages blind belief of complainants, meaning a loose allegation is often enough to trigger your arrest. Officers have learnt to protect themselves by following procedure rather than exercising judgement. The result is people are subjected to the machinery of criminal justice based on accusations that don't – and were never likely to – materialise into charges. It's often clear that a suspect shouldn't have been arrested, but the interviewing officers will just shrug. Even they know it's futile, and we share knowing looks or eye rolls. I had a case where a woman was arrested on accusations of domestic violence. When I turned up, I saw that she had scratches suggesting she was defending herself from assault. Plus, there was evidence that he'd abused her before. Yet she spent the day in custody (it can be up to 24 hours) and her phone was seized for months of examination. Later, I heard she was put on bail. That's a perfect example of how risk aversion has replaced common sense, and of a culture that encourages passing the buck. This stems – in my view – from a profound transformation of British policing. 'British system is like Faulty Towers' Officers now seem to be recruited primarily for their IT skills. Many detectives have never worked in uniform. Since detective and uniform pay scales were equalised at around £30,000, recruitment has become increasingly difficult. The result is a force ill-equipped for nuanced human judgements. Saying that, officers and I share the same frustrations, and our relationship is pretty good. Working in the British custody system can also feel a bit Fawlty Towers. Phone examinations take months despite suspects providing access codes. CCTV evidence routinely gets lost. A lot of my job involves paperwork. I generally need to complete four-page forms collecting extensive personal data. When I began attending police stations in the early 2000s, a simple slip sufficed: name, station, offence, custody number. There's also a good amount of dead time; sometimes, on duty, I have to take public transport across the city to different police stations. I spend my time waiting for the next call drinking tea at a Wetherspoons, or in the station in rows of seats with other lawyers. I often walk away, money in my pocket, reflecting on the system's waste of resources. We earn money from the system's failures. Each duty solicitor attendance pays my firm £270; I get £80 of that (£100 if the attendance is after 10pm). I'm freelance: paid per case. On a good day, I might do four attendances over an eight-hour shift. I get allocated around one shift a week, which is enough now I'm in my 60s. Duty solicitors must be available 24/7, so I take calls in the night when I'm on. Sometimes I don't get home until 3am. Crime doesn't pay. Criminal lawyers earn a fraction of what civil lawyers do. They get hundreds of pounds per hour. Legal aid rates for criminal solicitors in court have not risen for years (although criminal barristers' rates did after the 2022 strike); and payments have been tightened while inflation nibbles and gnaws. Criminal solicitors earn half what they did in real terms 20 years ago. I don't feel like I get paid enough. Legal aid lawyers may get paid by the state but they are emphatically not civil servants. No regular salary, no pension, no long-term sick, etc. Politicians know well there are no votes for upping payment to those who defend the guilty.
