Welcome to Sex and the State, a newsletter about power. To support my work toward decriminalizing and destigmatizing everything sex please buy a subscription, follow me on OnlyFans, or just share this post with a friend or on a social network!
I realized today that I’ve been posting to OnlyFans for a year this month. I joined last May as a kind of pandemic hobby/art project.
I remember a few years ago fantasizing about doing some kind of sex work that would give me a few thousand dollars every month. I could save up for grad school instead of going into debt to do work that wouldn’t be much better paying than my marketing work but hopefully more meaningful and fulfilling.
Then I decided to try to save up enough to “retire” from marketing and try to go right into the work I want to do. What exactly that looks like I’m not sure. But it definitely centers around this blog or something very like it.
OF has made that possible for me without the risk of in-person sex work or having to do any kind of sex work full-time. I’ve been able to save money while spending most of my time writing, including here.
It’s not interesting enough that I’d ever prefer to do it full-time. But it has been interesting. I’ve learned a little about photography. I’ve confronted some of my sexual hang ups. I’ve negotiated my relationship with my body. It’s nice to have a place to publish my erotica.
I was undressing in front of a man and he said I must feel pressure to stay thin for OnlyFans. I do and I don’t. No one has ever said anything disparaging about my body. And I don’t notice any dip in likes or tips when I’m fatter. If anything, OF is probably one of the least fat-phobic places you can be. But I notice it’s harder to get motivated to post when I feel fat. I dread trying to find flattering angles and looking at the dimples in my thighs.
OF has taught me to see myself through the eyes of the people who love me. To spend less time looking for flaws and berating myself for my shortcomings and more time enjoying how I look and what I represent.
It’s not something I can recommend to most people. I’m in the top 3% of earners and I’m at least a decade away from retirement. Nearly all of my fans come from my Twitter and this newsletter. Marketing is a slog and I do it enough at work that I’m not going to do it in my free time. And if I am I’m going to shill my writing since that’s what I really want people to see.
One thing that’s interesting is that I tend to get a big bump in subscribers whenever one of my tweets goes “viral.” Not shocking really. But what’s disturbing is that I get more subscribers when people are disagreeing with me than when I get a lot of engagements that are agreement with what I’ve posted. Now I’m not going to consciously choose to stir the shit to get OF subs. That’s gross. But I’m concerned about the incentives at play here influencing my behavior subconsciously. And I think this incentive structure is pretty straightforwardly bad for society.
I’ve experienced enough whorephobia on Twitter to remind me there’s much work to be done. I made my profile photo a picture my friend took of me and her friend. His hands were around my neck and I was looking at the camera with a very slight smile. People freaked the fuck out. Several people quote tweeted me with just my profile photo. It’s so dumb it would be easy to forget many people really are still genuinely upset by some extremely light and obviously consensual BDSM.
I appreciate being reminded. It’s important for me to know what we’re up against.
Ultimately I’m so grateful I’m in a position in my life, family, and career that I can be a part-time internet thot and make some extra money for a social safety net my country refuses to provide because we have to buy fighter jets.
And with that privilege comes responsibility. And I feel great to be using my privilege to destigmatize sex work and work on eroding the opposition to decriminalizing it. Here’s to another year of thotting.