I had heard about PEERS for years but had never gone inside. I had a girlfriend who used to go and she said the best things about them but I was much more secretive, no one knew I worked. Sadly, what finally nudged me through the door was a very bad date that lasted three days. My only regret, truly, is that I never went sooner.
The first time I walked through the doors I was scared, palms sweaty and shaky I was about to turn around and walk back out the door when a beautiful blonde woman touched my hand and asked me if she could talk to me for a second.
Not knowing what to expect, but feeling somehow calmed by her presence, I allowed her to lead the way.
She lead me to an office tastefully painted and warmly lit. I sat down on the chair she gestured to and she pulled hers close to mine.
“I’ve only been out a year you know”, she said. “I know how hard it is to come here, I know how scared you are but I promise you you’re going to be ok, the hardest part is behind you”.
I was crying before she finished. She went on to tell me she’d began working in Calgary
I’d never told anyone my story, ever and once I started I couldn’t stop. The sadness, the fear, the anger it all just gushed out of me and when I was finished I felt weak, even sad but I also felt another feeling I had never felt before. I felt hope. I knew I could do what this woman had done. Somehow I just knew I could too.
I enrolled in every program PEERS had and when I forgot why I was there or thought I was too good for all this my beautiful blonde facilitator would knowingly reach out to me, “just fill the chair”, she would say, “let me do the rest”.
PEERS saved my life, there’s no doubt about it. They likely saved my daughters as well. I don’t know what your circumstances are and I hope they’re much better than mine where. But if you feel alone, like there’s nowhere to go and no one’s who’ll understand I want you to know you're wrong. There’s a place for us.
Former Vancouver madam shares her story to help sex-trade workers
A new life:
Tania Fiolleau is a former madam who's sharing her story in a new book, Souled Out!. Proceeds from its sales will help with awareness and prevention efforts for sex trade workers.
If anybody knows how destructive the world of prostitution is, then Burnaby resident Tania Fiolleau would know.
Fiolleau, who formerly ran a brothel in the 4600 block of Kingsway - she got out of that location in 2002 - has recently written a book, Souled Out!, which details how she sold her soul to finance a child custody case.
Even though Fiolleau won her case, gaining custody of her two sons, she still suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder dating back to her days in prostitution.
And while Fiolleau is coping, she is trying to help others get out of the business she used to work in.
Fiolleau's story goes back to the mid-'90s, when she was working for the government and training to be a marine boat captain.
Fiolleau was also in an abusive marriage. Having left that situation and living in a battered women's shelter, she discovered she didn't qualify for legal aid in the custody battle with the father of their two sons.
"I was 26 at the time, and he had money and good lawyers, and I had to come up with money for a retainer for my lawyer," said Fiolleau.
She saw an ad in the newspaper promising $1,500 a day in a fun, friendly and safe environment and applied, not knowing exactly what she was getting into.
"I was told it was erotic massage or a body slide" - she understood body slide to mean no more than rubbing her breasts on a client - but she found out differently the first time she had a client.
"I was in shock," she said, "but I needed the money for the retainer. ... I didn't know what else I could do to get the money."
Even as Fiolleau felt that what she was doing was wrong - "I would go home and scrub myself because I felt so dirty," she said - she couldn't turn down the big money that came with the job.
"I was earning $1,700 per six-hour night shift," she said. "Once I learned how much I was making, I started working double shifts."
Even as Fiolleau got advice from her co-workers, she didn't know how destructive the job was.
"I remember one girl telling me, when I asked her how she did it, she told me 'I'm a robot,' so that's what I did when I was with a client, I became a robot too," she said.
Fiolleau's days as a "robot" wouldn't last long, as she soon realized she could make more money as a madam, running her own brothel.
She soon had her own brothel in Vancouver, and, in late 1998, she took control of a massage business on Kingsway, which she claims was Burnaby's last brothel.
"I guess I thought that running a brothel was better than being an escort," she said. "I owned the business, I ran the business, and it was one big muddy puddle I was in."
Fiolleau also ran two top-secret penthouse brothels that catered to people wanting discreet encounters, which meant she was running four operations.
The money was coming in fast and furious, which was sorely needed because her custody case dragged on for more than four years, and Fiolleau estimated it cost her more than $400,000.
At the end, Fiolleau promised the judge that if she won custody of her two boys, she would leave the business, and that's exactly what happened in 2002.
Fiolleau, who formerly ran a brothel in the 4600 block of Kingsway - she got out of that location in 2002 - has recently written a book, Souled Out!, which details how she sold her soul to finance a child custody case.
Even though Fiolleau won her case, gaining custody of her two sons, she still suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder dating back to her days in prostitution.
And while Fiolleau is coping, she is trying to help others get out of the business she used to work in.
Fiolleau's story goes back to the mid-'90s, when she was working for the government and training to be a marine boat captain.
Fiolleau was also in an abusive marriage. Having left that situation and living in a battered women's shelter, she discovered she didn't qualify for legal aid in the custody battle with the father of their two sons.
"I was 26 at the time, and he had money and good lawyers, and I had to come up with money for a retainer for my lawyer," said Fiolleau.
She saw an ad in the newspaper promising $1,500 a day in a fun, friendly and safe environment and applied, not knowing exactly what she was getting into.
"I was told it was erotic massage or a body slide" - she understood body slide to mean no more than rubbing her breasts on a client - but she found out differently the first time she had a client.
"I was in shock," she said, "but I needed the money for the retainer. ... I didn't know what else I could do to get the money."
Even as Fiolleau felt that what she was doing was wrong - "I would go home and scrub myself because I felt so dirty," she said - she couldn't turn down the big money that came with the job.
"I was earning $1,700 per six-hour night shift," she said. "Once I learned how much I was making, I started working double shifts."
Even as Fiolleau got advice from her co-workers, she didn't know how destructive the job was.
"I remember one girl telling me, when I asked her how she did it, she told me 'I'm a robot,' so that's what I did when I was with a client, I became a robot too," she said.
Fiolleau's days as a "robot" wouldn't last long, as she soon realized she could make more money as a madam, running her own brothel.
She soon had her own brothel in Vancouver, and, in late 1998, she took control of a massage business on Kingsway, which she claims was Burnaby's last brothel.
"I guess I thought that running a brothel was better than being an escort," she said. "I owned the business, I ran the business, and it was one big muddy puddle I was in."
Fiolleau also ran two top-secret penthouse brothels that catered to people wanting discreet encounters, which meant she was running four operations.
The money was coming in fast and furious, which was sorely needed because her custody case dragged on for more than four years, and Fiolleau estimated it cost her more than $400,000.
At the end, Fiolleau promised the judge that if she won custody of her two boys, she would leave the business, and that's exactly what happened in 2002.
"I got custody, so I left the business," she said.
Fiolleau would move to California and get into real estate development, making enough money in the first couple of years to live in a multimillion-dollar home.
But that wouldn't last.
"The real estate market just tanked, and we lost everything," she said.
By 2006, Fiolleau was back in the Lower Mainland, and it was as if the bad economy followed her. She opened a private investigation business that lasted several months, and then she got back into running a penthouse.
"I started running girls out of penthouses again," she said. "These were the girls who had worked for me years ago, and I could see how they'd aged and developed drug habits."
Fiolleau again tried to go legit, opening a Richmond tanning salon, but even after winning awards for that business, she received a higher calling in 2008.
"I'd become Christian at this point, and God told me, you have to walk away from this ... and write a book and help save the women who are in prostitution," said Fiolleau.
And that's what Fiolleau did, spending the next two years writing Souled Out!, which she finally completed in October 2010.
In her book, Fiolleau tells of her experience in what she calls "a sick world, full of broken dreams and empty promises, battered, shattered, sexually abused women, men and children. ... (The sex industry) is causing alarming divorce rates, teen pregnancies, STDs-AIDS, drug usage, not to mention altered views of what sex really means."
Fiolleau said proceeds of the book don't go to her, but rather will go back into raising awareness and doing prevention for sexually exploited women and children and human traffic victims.
And if there is one overarching thought that Fiolleau wants to leave with people, it's in a statement on her website, www.savethewomen.ca:
"Please do not judge these girls/men any longer that are in the sex industry. Know that most of them are being 'forced' to do it, physically or mentally, by manipulation of people around them.
"Please open your eyes and see that we are all being lied to - that most of these girls do not like what they are doing and that it is all 'acting.'
"It could be your sister, your mother, your best friend's girl or even your daughter - and then think, is it all really worth the 'thrill' of self-gratification that lasts only a couple minutes? You are destroying lives of countless women while you do it - feeding the monster the sex industry has become. And now you are part of it too ... for there must be enablers to create victims.
"Be part of my campaign to help educate these women, clients and the public. If we can just save even one life, it was all worth it."
For more information, or to order Souled Out!, go to www.savethewomen.ca.
Fiolleau would move to California and get into real estate development, making enough money in the first couple of years to live in a multimillion-dollar home.
But that wouldn't last.
"The real estate market just tanked, and we lost everything," she said.
By 2006, Fiolleau was back in the Lower Mainland, and it was as if the bad economy followed her. She opened a private investigation business that lasted several months, and then she got back into running a penthouse.
"I started running girls out of penthouses again," she said. "These were the girls who had worked for me years ago, and I could see how they'd aged and developed drug habits."
Fiolleau again tried to go legit, opening a Richmond tanning salon, but even after winning awards for that business, she received a higher calling in 2008.
"I'd become Christian at this point, and God told me, you have to walk away from this ... and write a book and help save the women who are in prostitution," said Fiolleau.
And that's what Fiolleau did, spending the next two years writing Souled Out!, which she finally completed in October 2010.
In her book, Fiolleau tells of her experience in what she calls "a sick world, full of broken dreams and empty promises, battered, shattered, sexually abused women, men and children. ... (The sex industry) is causing alarming divorce rates, teen pregnancies, STDs-AIDS, drug usage, not to mention altered views of what sex really means."
Fiolleau said proceeds of the book don't go to her, but rather will go back into raising awareness and doing prevention for sexually exploited women and children and human traffic victims.
And if there is one overarching thought that Fiolleau wants to leave with people, it's in a statement on her website, www.savethewomen.ca:
"Please do not judge these girls/men any longer that are in the sex industry. Know that most of them are being 'forced' to do it, physically or mentally, by manipulation of people around them.
"Please open your eyes and see that we are all being lied to - that most of these girls do not like what they are doing and that it is all 'acting.'
"It could be your sister, your mother, your best friend's girl or even your daughter - and then think, is it all really worth the 'thrill' of self-gratification that lasts only a couple minutes? You are destroying lives of countless women while you do it - feeding the monster the sex industry has become. And now you are part of it too ... for there must be enablers to create victims.
"Be part of my campaign to help educate these women, clients and the public. If we can just save even one life, it was all worth it."
For more information, or to order Souled Out!, go to www.savethewomen.ca.
