ONLYFANS: THE REAL STORY BEHIND THE SCREEN.
I didn’t plan on doing OnlyFans.
But I also didn’t plan on being sexualized on TikTok either.
It was twenty twenty, and my ex-husband and I started creating content. We danced, we laughed, we vibed. But then something happened. The gay community started zoning in—not on him, but on me. My sweatpants, my body, my energy. And instead of running from it, I decided to take the power back. I told myself: if I’m going to be sexualized, then I’m going to be the one holding the camera.
At the time, I was already shooting content for other men on OnlyFans—taking their photos, directing their scenes. And eventually I thought, “I could do this better.” I understood the angles, the lighting… and I was, well, a little more well-equipped, let’s say. So I launched my own page in October twenty twenty.
Emotionally, it was a trip.
I’d never been the type to send nudes.
Ever.
But I was a sexual person. Just… private.
And suddenly, I was putting that side of myself online for strangers. The first few payouts were small—until they weren’t. My first eight thousand dollar day. My first twenty-four thousand dollar month. I felt numb. Not empowered, not ashamed—just numb. Like I was selling little pieces of myself in exchange for validation and rent money.
But my relationship with it has evolved. A lot.
Back then, I did a lot of collabs with men who didn’t take it seriously. They didn’t listen. They wasted my time. Today, it’s different. My OnlyFans is more like a private lounge—a place where people who actually support me can get closer. It’s not just about getting off. It’s about feeling connected. Like you actually know me. Like you’re not just watching me, but talking to me. Like you’re in on the truth of who I am.
And yes, I still teach dance. I still coach teens. Their parents know. And yes, I’ve had major TV networks approach me about starring in shows centered on OnlyFans. I’ve been judged. I’ve been touched in public without consent. I’ve been kissed by strangers who thought my body was free just because it was online. And I’ve also been supported by people who see me for my depth, not just my dick.
People think it’s easy.
It’s not.
OnlyFans is a full-time job. Content planning. Lighting. Branding. Promotion. Engagement. It's emotional labor wrapped in sex appeal. And the truth is…
If you’re nobody online, you probably won’t make a dollar.
If you don’t know who you are, it’ll eat you alive.
So here’s my advice:
If you’re thinking of starting an OnlyFans, ask yourself if you’re emotionally ready. Are you mentally strong? Are you okay being objectified? Once it’s online, it rarely disappears. You’re inviting people to see you in a completely different way. You’re opening the door to energy you might not be ready to hold.
But if you do it with intention…
If you protect your peace, build your boundaries, and own your story…
It can be powerful.
I’m not ashamed of what I do.
Because what I give isn’t just lust.
It’s love, connection, and a version of myself that’s realer than most people will ever show.
