So I’m doing Fansly.
And saying that out loud already feels a little strange.
There are a few reasons, and none of them are shocking or brave or groundbreaking. Mostly, I just want to feel comfortable in my own body. My partner loves me deeply, but my brain has body dysmorphia and does not accept compliments as fact. So I’m trying something different. Taking photos of my body, really seeing myself, letting myself exist as I am right now. It feels vulnerable, but also kind of grounding. I’m also on a path to lose weight, so in a weird way this is a body update too — not just physically, but mentally.
Another reason is simpler: I like attention. I’ve always liked attention. I like talking to strangers, I like feeling seen, and I like knowing the focus is on me for a moment. That’s also why I’m on FetLife. Even saying that feels awkward, because I don’t promote myself and I’m still not really promoting myself now. The name I use on those sites is completely separate from this space — it feels safer that way, like different parts of me can exist without stepping on each other.
And honestly, this whole thing is very unserious to me in terms of who knows and who doesn’t. When Hector and I first talked about it, I was spiraling a little — fully convinced he wasn’t going to take it well. I had all these speeches prepared in my head. And his response was basically: “Okay. Do you. What’s the game plan?” Which was… grounding. Supportive. Very not dramatic.
That support doesn’t mean I suddenly want to shout a handle from the rooftops or turn this into a personality trait. I don’t. This is just a different part of me. One that exists quietly alongside everything else.
I wasn’t going to mention any of this here because so many friends and family read this, and I went back and forth on whether I should talk about it at all. But I’m not ashamed. Conflicted sometimes, sure. Unsure, definitely. But ashamed? No. This is part of me right now, and honestly it’s helping me deal with something I’ve been quietly freaking out about: aging.
I’ll be 29 in 36 days.
I know, I know — age is just a number, we all say it, we all pretend it doesn’t matter. But for some reason, 29 feels scarier than 30. That doesn’t make sense, I’m aware. I want to be 30. Something about 29 just feels… loud. Like a reminder that time is moving whether I’m ready or not. Maybe this is my way of pushing back a little. Or leaning in. Or both.
I also think we’re very extreme about things like Fansly and OnlyFans — it’s either empowering or shameful, no in-between. And maybe I don’t see it so harshly because I grew up watching people like Trisha Paytas and Adeline Morin, absorbing different versions of femininity and sexuality and self-expression at a young age. Not perfect influences, but human ones. Messy, honest, unapologetic.
Anyway. This isn’t an announcement or a pitch or a statement.
It’s just me being honest about where I’m at.
Still figuring it out.
Still not promoting.
Still trying to believe I’m allowed to take up space.
