My Experience at an Agency: When I Felt Like Merchandise

There was a time in my life (when I first started in this world) when, due to various circumstances, I had to work at an agency.

From the very first minute, I felt like merchandise—something that only mattered for what I could offer. I remember a man who, during the "interview," asked me if I was willing to do "everything."

He didn't care about who I was, what I thought, or whether I felt comfortable. No. He only wanted to know how far he could push me and whether he could exert his form of control over me. Immediately, he asked me to turn around so he could observe my body, as if I were an exhibit. He even looked at my teeth, which truly infuriated me, because in that moment it reminded me of how people were once treated as slaves—valued only for their bodies, for what they could give, without regard for their humanity.

That feeling of being an object, measured, evaluated, and cataloged, stuck with me. I thought, when did we lose ourselves? When did I stop being a person and become just an "offering"?

The worst part was that, in the end, I only received half of the promised payment.

Agencies take half of the value that the client pays—50/50.

All the girls who choose to work with agencies, lured by a false sense of security, are subjected to every imaginable form of dehumanization without the right to choose.

I will never forget the feeling of working, sacrificing my dignity, my time, my body, for someone else's benefit.

During that experience, I was not only trapped by the empty promises of agencies, but I also witnessed other girls going through the same. Girls who, like me, thought they could help their families, who believed it was their only way out. And although many would not admit it, there was something in all our eyes that said the same thing: we were trapped. Not because we wanted to be, but because we had no other choice. It's easy to fall into that trap when fast money seems like the solution to your most urgent problems.

The most devastating part was how suddenly my life was no longer my own. I remember being woken up in the middle of the night, half asleep, just to do presentations of girls. And there I was, completely exhausted, hoping I wouldn't be chosen so I could sleep a little longer. Many times, my body moved, but my mind was elsewhere—disconnected, wishing it would all end. It was as if what I felt or thought didn't matter. Only what I was paid to do mattered.

In those moments, I understood something fundamental: the difference between being in an exploitative agency and being an independent girl.

Girls trapped in agencies have no control over anything—not even their own bodies. They are told when to work, what to do, and who to be with. They cannot set boundaries or decide when to say "no." They are treated as objects, as parts in a wheel that spins without their ability to stop it.

In contrast, independent girls have something the others lack: control. They choose their own limits, their own schedules, and, most importantly, have the freedom to decide what to do with their bodies and their lives. They are not controlled by a system that exploits them. They take the time to know themselves, to understand what they are doing, and, most importantly, to say "yes" or "no" when they feel it.

Today, looking back, I can't help but wonder how some men choose to go to agencies, knowing what happens behind that façade. Why do they prefer to support a system that exploits women instead of seeking a more ethical and humane option? Why not choose an independent girl, who, although facing her own challenges, has control over her life and work?

It's easy to ignore reality when it doesn't affect you directly, when it's only about satisfying your own desires. But every time someone chooses an exploitative agency, they are choosing to close their eyes to the truth. They are choosing not to see that the girl is there not by choice, but because she has no other option. The problem is not only in how women are treated in these agencies, but in the conscious choice to participate in a system that perpetuates exploitation.

The next time someone wonders what the difference is between an agency girl and an independent girl, the answer is simple: freedom. And that freedom is what we should value. Because, in the end, the worth of a person is not in what they can offer, but in what they can decide for themselves.