Dear Tessa Ryan, the American Escort,
How are you? I am fine. I hope you’re well.
How should I start this? Okay. Awkward story. I came upon a momentarily-unfair, kind-of-hilarious situation awhile ago.
I was checking my pen name insights on WordPress. Hmm … my U.S. stats were booming. A lot of Americans seemed to be searching for “me” online. Awesome!
Then, oh my. I found a possible explanation for those increased stats while doing my usual pen name search. Which I do three or four times a week.
An issue for Tessa Ryan, the writer, as you can imagine. However, the similarities end with our name. You’re American. I’m Canadian. You claim to be “athletic,” and your measurements are Barbie-like. Seriously, how do you not topple over? I’m a power-walking pear with a shorter distance to fall.
To be fair, Tessa Ryan’s my pen name. A pseudonym. Choosing that pen name in 2014 was a process. Researching websites – Google, Bing, Yahoo – to ensure no one famous or infamous was named Tessa Ryan. You know, like a Hollywood actor or serial killer.
And Tessa Ryan was born. A name close to my heart for multiple reasons. And quick and easy to sign. After all, my dream is to publish thousands and thousands of books. Under my pen name and real name.
But you can’t be mad at someone because they have the same name, pseudonym or not. Maybe Tessa Ryan’s your cover, and you are the reason my statistics from the U.S. keep rising – no pun intended.
Jokes aside, I’m not asking you to change your name. But I will hand out some motherly advice, even though I’m not old enough to be your mom.
According to your site, you have “perky breasts,” and a “heart shaped backside,” and your rates? Holy crap – you’re making out like a bandit. So, it’s possible this is temporary. Maybe you’re doing this to pay for medical school. After all, you claimed – several times – to be “smart.”
Stop self-objectifying yourself. Because you’re more than boobs and an ass. And I doubt your high school dream was to become an escort. Harsh? Yes. Sorry, but there’s more.
Being an escort is a high-risk occupation, Tessa. Don’t become an American statistic. A 30-second blip on the news. Another “sex-trade worker” dead. Because that’s how the majority of the public will see you. And they’ll flip the page. Change the channel. Grab some nachos. Next story. Generally, they won’t care.
Yes, you have a screening process. You ask for references. Smart? Maybe. But people lie. People deceive. And you could get hurt. Or worse.
No, I’m not familiar with the other side of high-risk occupations, but I’m familiar with the other side of the occupation. The outcome.
Because under my real name, I’ve reported on one too many so-called “statistics.”
Please stay safe, Tessa Ryan the American Escort.