Yeah. Once. Thought I was too experienced to get caught — turns out, experience just makes the fall more dramatic.

She was smart, funny, remembered details I didn’t even remember saying. No pressure for money at first, and I started thinking, “maybe she actually likes me.”

We spent two weeks together. Dinners, movies, even met her “sister” (probably another girl from the bar). I caught feelings — and then caught her lining up another guy the day before I flew home.

Was it a scam? Maybe. Or maybe she just played the game better than I did.

Either way, it taught me something: if she’s being paid, she’s performing — no matter how good it feels.

Once. She laughed at my jokes, remembered my drink, even gave me little surprises — it felt real. I started treating her like a girlfriend. Then I found out she was seeing two other guys on rotation, calling all of us “babe.” Broke me for a while. Never again.

Guilty. Her name was Fah—long legs, sweet voice, and eyes that made me forget it was paid. I got played hard, but part of me still wonders if any of it was real.

Yeah, I fell—hard. Bought her a phone, paid her rent, sent flowers on Valentine’s. Then I saw her walking with another guy on Beach Road. Lesson learned the Thai way.

Not a clean, romantic collapse — more like a slow drift that surprised me. I’ve come close a few times: a polished agency girl in Sukhumvit who started as a paid night out and became the person I texted when flights were delayed; a soft-spoken sugar baby in Pattaya who expected an allowance and gave me real companionship in return; and once, a short-time hookup in Soi 6 that turned into weeks of dinners and weird little moments where I realized I cared more than I planned to.

There’s a pattern I didn’t see at first: what starts as convenience or loneliness can morph into attachment when someone consistently shows up. Escorts in Bangkok (especially the agency types around Sukhumvit and Nana Plaza) can be shockingly good at filling the “partner” slot because they’re practiced at care and conversation. Sugar babies — whether in LK Metro, Walking Street, or hanging out in Phuket bars — can offer companionship that looks a lot like relationship work: regular texts, favors, small rituals. That’s how the line blurs.

Mistakes I made so you don’t repeat them:
• Confusing affection for commitment. A girl who remembers your coffee order isn’t automatically invested in your future.
• Letting money mask emotional gaps. Giving allowances or expensive gifts can create dependency, not love — on either side.
• Ignoring red flags early. If she treats the arrangement like a business from day one, don’t be surprised when it stays transactional.

What helped me get sane again: boundaries and bookkeeping. Clear expectations (how long, how much, what’s included), simple rules about contact when apart, and a mental “budget” for emotional risk. In Bangkok I started treating agency nights as dates with an end time. In Pattaya I set a monthly cap when a sugar-baby arrangement drifted toward long-term. In Phuket I forced myself to keep a social life outside the nightlife circuit so I wasn’t emotionally dependent on one person.

There’s also grief in these stories that most guys ignore. Breakups with escorts or sugar babies sting more than you expect because the relationship often felt low-risk while it lasted. Best defense: don’t let the romance rewrite your wallet’s rules or your day-to-day life. Keep friends, routines, and an exit plan that doesn’t involve shame or theatrics.

If you’re honest with yourself, falling for someone who’s paid to be with you can teach you a lot: about what you value, what loneliness costs, and what you should demand from a “real” partner. It’s messy, sometimes expensive, and occasionally worth it — but only when you’re awake enough to see the tradeoffs.

Lessons over regret: set limits, pay attention to whether affection is reciprocal without cash, and don’t mistake convenience for compatibility. If you’ve been there, you probably learned the same — the real win is using those lessons next time.