It took just seven words to end my perfect relationship, leaving me so traumatised I’m still in therapy more than a year later. ‘I sleep with prostitutes when I’m abroad.’
This horrifying confession came from Alex, my partner of two years and the man I believed I would marry.
The term ‘sex tourist’ conjures images of creepy old bachelors – not attractive, eligible men in their 30s who otherwise seem entirely ‘normal’.
But unbeknown to me, that is exactly what Alex was – a man who paid for sex when abroad, away from prying eyes.
It was only after I caught a deeply embarrassing STI from him that could have rendered me infertile that I discovered his dirty secret.
According to a recent survey, 11 per cent of men in the UK have paid for sex and two-thirds of that group did so while abroad. And contrary to my own preconceptions, it’s men in their 20s and 30s who are most likely to fall into this category – some of whom seem funny, attractive and gentle, like Alex, who was 37.
We met on a dating app in early 2022, when I was 33, had our first date at a local pub and never looked back.
After years of bad dates and short-term relationships that went nowhere, I felt like the stars had finally aligned. Both keen runners and foodies with stable jobs – him in finance and me for a local authority – when we weren’t working we enjoyed cosy nights in together, cooking and early morning jogs. I loved how stable and drama-free our relationship was.
According to a recent survey, 11 per cent of men in the UK have paid for sex and two-thirds of that group did so while abroad
We moved in together in summer 2023. Then 34, and with my biological clock ticking, I felt sure I was well on the way to marriage and children.
Our sex life was great too. You might call it ‘vanilla’ – neither of us were into anything out of the ordinary – but Alex cared about my pleasure as well as his own, something that couldn’t be said for some men I’d dated.
He worked for a multinational company, which meant his job involved travel, and during the two and a half years we were together, he went abroad with work six times, including to Amsterdam, New York and Dubai.
He also went on a few holidays without me – a stag weekend for his brother in Hamburg, a golfing trip with colleagues to Phuket in Thailand and a lads’ break with his old rugby friends to Tenerife.
It never bothered me; I had my own social life and would use the free time to visit my family. I remember once telling Alex about a colleague whose marriage ended due to her husband’s infidelity and he’d been really judgmental.
‘I don’t understand why anyone would blow up their life like that,’ he said. ‘What an idiot.’
I felt smug that my boyfriend had such a strong moral compass. Not for a moment did I ever worry he’d cheat on me.
But fast forward to summer 2024 and I started to experience the symptoms of what I assumed was a UTI. When it didn’t clear and I began to experience pain in my abdomen, I went to my GP.
I’d mentioned how I was feeling to Alex, who’d been his usual caring self and said he hoped the GP could give me something to make me feel better. If he was worried about being unmasked, he certainly didn’t show it.
During the GP consultation, she asked if I’d had unprotected sex and if was there any possibility I could have contracted an STI.
I was adamant that couldn’t be the case; Alex was the only man I’d slept with without protection since having the coil fitted early in our relationship, when I’d also had a sexual health check.
However, she suggested she run a selection of tests, just to cover all bases. I agreed, but I was sure they’d reveal I simply had a run-of-the-mill infection.
Later that week, she rang me with the horrifying news. I had gonorrhoea – a sexually transmitted disease that, untreated, can cause serious issues including infertility and meningitis.
Hanging up the phone, I was shaking with shock, my mind racing. It wasn’t just the fact I had an STI – it was the realisation I must have caught it from Alex.
Laura had gonorrhoea – a sexually transmitted disease that, untreated, can cause serious issues including infertility and meningitis
I knew he must have cheated on me – and it was heartbreaking.
But the truth was so much worse. I confronted him the moment he got home from work that evening. His face went ashen with guilt.
‘Who was she?’ I shouted through tears, assuming he’d been having an affair or perhaps a one-night stand.
At first he denied everything but as I screamed with rage, he began to sob. ‘I sleep with prostitutes when I’m abroad,’ he stuttered.
‘What do you mean?’ I gasped. I felt bile rising in my throat, the room spinning. Cheating would have been bad enough, but this was simply incomprehensible.
Tears rolling down his face, he told me his ‘addiction’ – as he called it – began several years before we met.
One drunken night in Amsterdam on a stag do, he had paid for sex with a woman in the red light district. He’d felt ashamed and written it off as an error of judgment.
Six months later, on another holiday, he’d met a girl in a strip bar and took her back to his hotel, where he paid for sex again. It had happened, he said, on almost every foreign trip since, though he’d never visited a sex worker in the UK. If he thought that made his confession more palatable, he was wrong.
He explained he’d meet the women through websites, strip bars, brothels and even on the street. It was all in stark contrast to his life back home, which is what gave him such a thrill. I baulked at the word ‘addiction’ but he insisted he’d become hooked on the buzz he got when he went away, knowing this ‘taboo’ sex was for the taking. I felt nauseous, furious and bewildered.
One drunken night in Amsterdam on a stag do, he had paid for sex with a woman in the red light district. He’d felt ashamed and written it off as an error of judgment
After meeting me, his first serious relationship since this had all started, he said he wanted to stop – and each time he came home, he promised himself that was the last time. But it never was.
My brain wasn’t functioning well enough by then to grill him about exactly how many times this had happened during our relationship. Even now I’m not sure having a grand total would be of any benefit to me. Even once was too many.
He admitted, on a couple of occasions, the woman hadn’t insisted he used a condom and he’d been really drunk. This is when he must have contracted gonorrhoea and passed it to me.
He insisted he’d had no symptoms – but by then I had no idea what to believe. Running to the bathroom, I threw up as tears rolled down my face.
As Alex pleaded for forgiveness, I screamed at him to leave. I felt so disgusted and filled with rage. It wasn’t just the horrendous sense of betrayal; he could have caught HIV and risked my life.
In an instant, he’d become a stranger. How could my kind, sensible, caring partner, with his good job and nice family, be a man who preyed on impoverished young women, paying them to get his kicks – and in doing so, making a fool of me and risking my health?
He left that evening and that was the last time I saw him. Further tests revealed I didn’t have any other STIs and antibiotics cleared the gonorrhoea – but the psychological damage ran much deeper. I moved out of our flat and in with a friend, taking several months off work due to poor mental health, something I’d never suffered with before.
Alex texted and called repeatedly for several weeks but I refused to communicate with him. I’d heard all I needed to.
In one of his final messages, he begged me not to tell anyone what he’d done, which told me he was more concerned about the consequences of being outed as a sex tourist than anything else.
A year on, I’m still having therapy to rebuild my self-esteem. I have very little confidence in my ability to judge people and haven’t dated since our split.
I’ve tortured myself wondering if I missed any signs about who Alex really was and if I could miss those signs in another man.
After all, if I hadn’t caught an STI, I could have gone on to marry Alex, oblivious to his betrayal. I shudder at the thought.
Laura Welsonn is a pseudonym. All names and identifying details have been changed.
As told to EIMEAR O’HAGAN
