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The Real Reason People Want To Burn Down The Bop House
OnlyFans model Sophie Rain became a topic of conversation when it was revealed that she made $43,000,000 in the first year of opening her account. Her success started a debate online about normalizing sex work to very young women as Rain is currently 20 years old, but for many people, appears to be underage. Many of the women I follow who speak out about sexism were drawn to this story as it seems to highlight men’s desire for very young women. A desire that has historically resulted in the abuse of women and girls that is maintained beneath the patriarchy. Rain took her earnings and decided to open up the “Bop House”, the first OnlyFans content creator house. Taking a page from the Youtube content creator house, The Hype House, these Gen Z sex workers live together, work together and use each other’s platforms to cross promote. They predominately promote their content through apps like Tiktok and Instagram where the Bop House has gained a large following; some of it underage. They participate in many trends, and even create their own. In one trend they created, they put out an open call for auditions and of course some of the girls who answered were underage. Right now, the highest requested new member of the Bop House is a 17 year old blogger named Piper Rockelle. Rockelle is no stranger to content homes. She, along with her mother, started a teenage content home called “The Squad” in 2020 that would dissolve after her mother, Tiffany Smith was accused of pressuring the female members of the house to be more sexual, wear tighter clothes and placate to a male gaze. While she made those comments about the girls in the home, she also made a slew of sexually inappropriate comments towards some of the boys. Today, Tiffany Smith runs Piper Rockelle’s Brand Army account; which, similarly to OnlyFans, offers members access to exclusive pictures and videos for a small subscription fee. Based on the comments some other content creators were able to find on her Brand Army account, it’s clear that Piper Rockelle’s content, while not overtly explicit, is catering to an audience that wants to pleasure themselves to images of underage girls. And unfortunately, this is a growing trend among content creators who start as child bloggers. Piper Rockelle would appear in several social media videos with members of the Bop House, even a video “welcoming” her into the content house; to which they claim to have meant the physical home, not sex work.
Listening to these young women respond to criticism around their actions, it becomes pretty clear that their brains are still developing. There are judgement calls that they’ve made hastily, and of course that calls into question whether or not these young women are able to truly make these decisions with a full understanding of their consequences. The Bop House has been the source of much debate, especially as other content houses inspired by them start to appear. A content house full of tattooed and edgy models called “The Alt Bop House” has invigorated a conversation about fetishizing alternative women, with many saying that sex work is the antithesis to what they call “alternative principles”. As a goth who is a former sex worker, I have a lot of things to say about many aspects of this and I had a very interesting experience that touched at the heart of this issue while I was working on my script for my Youtube channel.

When I was 19 years old, I was scouted by a porn company. In 2009, I was in my first few years of college, my family had stopped financially supporting me and I was at the very start of my hormonal transition. Living in Valencia, at the time, it was very hard for me to find normative work. Especially being one of the few black people, and one of the few trans people in the area. It was virtually impossible for me to find employment and legalized protections for trans people wouldn’t exist until 2010. So when this scout from a porn company approached me at a sex party, it was a proposition I considered.
At the time, this very successful transgender porn company was running a full service porn studio, an online portal for web camming and a night at a strip club. I knew a girl who worked at the club and I’ve always loved to dance, so I considered it… but then I became mortified about anyone seeing me, so I opted for the cam girl thing instead. I’m pointing out my logic here because back in that time, it was pretty feasible that you could be a cam girl and be relatively unknown, where as it was very hard to be a successful dancer and also be unknown. Most of the dancers were also either working for the cam studio or in the porn studio and their dance sets were really just a way to meet and greet their fans and potentially new customers. Back then, I had a lot of fear around my parents finding out and I didn’t want anyone to know I did porn so cam girl felt like a good choice.
I feel like I need to draw attention to the fact that at 19, I wasn’t doing well. I had been in the full swing of my hypersexuality because of sexual violence phase and I first gained the attention of the scout through my pictures that I’d post of myself on social media. Often times, my pictures were suggestive or flirty. I wanted to be seen as sexy, really, before I had a good sense of my own sexuality. As a teenager, I had an awareness of men’s attraction to me, but I didn’t necessarily understand what it was supposed to be for me. My hypersexuality was set off by being drugged and assaulted by this artist I was working with when I was 15. I was focused on making money so that I could move out of my parents house and finally be myself, so I found this guy online who gave me a job in his studio. Then he raped me and because I needed money, I kept coming back. My groomer also gave me the perfect space to be myself and be creative. It just came at a cost. After that, I’d try my best to repeat these experiences but do so in a way that made me feel empowered and that’s how I got to sex parties where in retrospect, I was abused much more, but felt it was empowering. Some perv took me to my first party the week I turned 18, and for a while, I’d say that I was servicing these parties, almost as if I was an employee. This is the mindset that allowed sex work to feel like not that big of a deal.
Back then, if you wanted to get into sex work, you really only had the option to do so through a larger company. They controlled distribution and had the large platforms to promote models and you would have to hustle way more and have way more resources to be able to do it independently. What this meant was that our income was often split between both the platform and the company I was working under. I remember thinking that being a cam girl would be easy, but I figured out pretty quickly that sex work is work.
In many ways, sex work is all about selling a fantasy. In my actual life, I’m a femme bottom who is completely submissive. But when you have a body like mine, it’s harder to sell that fantasy. These men wanted me to perform a type of dominance and aggression that I do not really have. The audience doesn’t really want who you really are, they want a fantasy that suits your appearance. That draws them in, but if you want to get them to stay, you have to change it up. You change your hair, your body, your aesthetic, your vibe to draw in new customers and to keep your existing ones who may have tastes that shift. You have to think about marketing yourself in a way that you probably don’t actually want to. And while I was doing this, the porn company was making most of the money. I’m not proud to say that in my short 3 month stint as a cam girl, I made under a thousand dollars. Which was more than I had before, but at this point in my life, I really recognize how much I was getting screwed because I make that in a much shorter period of time in a way that I don’t feel exploited. I didn’t like being a cam girl. I’d go as far as to say that I hated it and it kinda ruined my sexuality for a bit; and I’m only really just now starting to feel like I have an accurate relationship with my sexuality. However, apparently I still have that sex worker stink on me.
After doing cam work, I got out of sex work, but would continue doing a lot of sex work-like things. I relied very heavily on men because they had the money. I would sabotage aspects of my education to spend time with a man because he had money and wanted to take care of me. I got hurt a lot before I graduated college and eventually fell in love and desperately wanted to put all of that behind me.
My ex almost dumped me when he found out that I was a cam girl in my past. He had exes who were sex workers and he didn’t have a fond opinion of them. I remember feeling like I was better than other trans women because I no longer had to do sex work; to the point were I’d deny that I ever did it. He picked me, and I was special because I was better than a sex worker. But there was a shift in our relationship as I started to become mores successful as a content creator. Eventually, I started making more money than him and started paying all of our rent. As I matured, he purchased more Funkos, smoked more weed and would bring home plates of his mother’s Lasagna after I’d slaved over a stove while he was at work. He started to feel undermined by me because I no longer needed him. Because I started making enough money to no longer need his permission or guidance. I remember finally getting to a place of financial comfort and many of the ways that I relied on men, I was very relieved to not “have” to do anymore. Looking back, I overlooked a lot of abusive behavior from men because they had money and were attracted to me enough to want to support me. As I type this, I’m giggling at the previous version of myself that wanted to be a house wife. I’m glad I out grew that. I’m glad I never married that guy.
Moving to LA, it struck me almost immediately that men had a certain response to me having money. Up to this point, I had lived in conservative communities for most of my life. I was stealth before moving to LA and if I’m being honest, I had a hard time adjusting to the more liberal environment. In the OC, it was a bit more socially acceptable for me to kinda expect for men to pay my way, and I’d honestly became kinda used to that. But in LA, I wanted to be empowered. There were many times when I’d go out on a date with a man and when the check came, I’d grab my card and naturally want to pay my portion; I was proud to do so. And there were men who’d flinch at me for doing so. To many of them, it was an affront to their masculinity that I not only wanted to pay, but was able to pay. Most of the time I’d pay my portion, those relationships ended. In the OC, whenever I’d be out by myself, the men around me would ask me where my children were or if I had a husband. It was as if they expected for women to only exist in relation to men, who of course have the money in the relationship. I was a bit younger back then, but I could tell that there were men that were kinda disturbed by this reality of me being able to do these things for myself. Sure, men in LA are a bit more overtly liberal, but I find that a lot of men struggle to be with women who make more than them, because they rely on their finances to command power in their relationships. That’s also why so many red pilled men shame women for wanting to date men who are financially secure.
These days, I live relatively comfortably, by myself in a cute little apartment in Hollywood. While I have my partners who do indeed do a lot for me, I do not rely on them financially. I don’t do a bit of handy work around my home, but I don’t really rely on them for anything other than companionship and the time we spend on this rock together. Plainly put, I do not need men and have not needed men in a very long time. My job as a content creator is one that has become lucrative enough for me to be comfortable. I work hard, I don’t exploit myself in the way I once did, and I’m very proud of myself for it. Sex work was a way I pulled myself up, but now it feels like a footnote. Nothing at all comes up when I look up my old stage name and the evidence of my sex work has evaporated as websites got updated and the online atmosphere for sex workers changed. But still, like I said, even after a lot has changed, apparently I’ve got that sex worker stink on me.

I go to the Goth club every Wednesday night. It’s basically my religion at this point. I go there, I see my friends, I catch up with them, I commune with them. I feel very at home in the Goth community. My ex fetishized alternative women, but would shame me a lot for my alternative aesthetic when we first started dating so I was slowly weened out of it. It’s been nice to marinate in LA for a while now and really find myself again.
After the club, I usually go to an after hours. I wouldn’t suggest this, but it is certainly a thing I’ve taken to. I don’t do coke and I’m not looking to fuck, I’m just an insomniac who really enjoys meeting people. I was sheltered for so long in the OC that I’m honestly still adjusting to how interesting people are in LA. Not that there weren’t interesting people in the OC; they were just playing a particular role. in the OC, you only really found out who people were when they had a bit of liquor in them and were around friends. People are more out there in LA and I kinda like that.
The after hours I go to is in this small little house off the boulevard. Tucked away in a quiet little corner. It’s run by a former gang member who I will often see on the boulevard; a nice guy who’s really all about his business. The space isn’t large, but there are several stages for girls who want to dance. I know the guy who runs the girls who dance there; also a nice guy from what I can tell; you never really know. Men come to this little house to meet people, to socialize and yeah, sometimes to pay for dances. Sometimes we have to clear out of a section of the club so that the girls can give special dances to the men who have the funds for them. Perhaps this seems like a strange environment for me to be in, but of the after hours I’ve gone to, this is the one that feels the most chill. Every after hours is going to have a presence of drugs and sex work. They just go hand in hand and late at night, after the bars close, there’s a demand for both.
Every time I go to this after hours, I end up meeting this guy. He’s a handsome man with a darker complexion, and a very pleasant speaking voice. I think we both registered that we do public speaking and so when we have interacted with each other, we end up having some surprisingly articulate conversations and verbal sparring matches. Perhaps this is the trauma, but I kinda like being able to argue with men, especially when I know they’re attracted to me. There’s something really sweet about being able to twist a conversation a certain way because you know the person wants you. And this guy has always been very clear about wanting me, even as I relented.
This is an older guy and I think perhaps for that reason, he has always had a very hard time wrapping his mind around what I do for a living, and he also had a hard time understanding my polyamory. So we often get into these debates about these things where he essentially reveals that he doesn’t really believe me. He doesn’t believe that I have multiple partners who care about me and he doesn’t believe that I have been able to pay my rent and more from my earnings as a content creator. The way he responds to me is as if he believed that I was saying these things to simply cope. Keep in mind, he’s doing copious amounts of cocaine most of the time we are speaking and I’m usually drinking a white claw because to me they’re somewhere between a drink and a glass of water. But still, he did entertain me and I was attracted to him. I’ve accepted long ago that more people do coke than I recognized and while I think its a stupid drug, I don’t really judge people for doing it, just abusing it.
I’ve known this guy for a while now so when he begged to go back to my place for a drink, I unfortunately entertained the idea. Maybe just because I wanted to go home. So we went back to my place and he navigated through the artistic clutter in my apartment to my kitchen where he rummaged through my bar, found the most expensive bottle of liquor and poured himself a large drink that he did not want to finish. This really annoyed me and then he asked me another annoying question as he looked around my apartment, which I will admit is a bit nicer than your average apartment in LA. He asked me how much I paid in rent and I didn’t really want to answer this question, but as I thought of a tactful way to respond, I blurted out
“Unless you plan on paying my rent, I don’t really think I need to tell you how much I pay”
He stumbles into my kitchen to find himself a plate that he could use to snort drugs off of and I get into my bed, defensively, under my covers. I really regret inviting this man into my house, but we carry on our conversation. I start trying to talk to him about what I’m working on as he looks around my apartment fascinated by the corners of unfinished art projects and my filming set up. I tell him that I’m working on a piece about this only fans creator home and the conversation quickly derails into a question I’ve now become kinda used to hearing”
“Are you on Only Fans?”
Whenever I tell people that I’m an online content creator and they meet me in a goth club where my tits are typically hoisted up to my chin, they often assume I’m using a euphemism about sex work. I suppose it’s true that many of the women I know at the club also have only fans; which is part of why the criticism of the Alt Bop house is so strange to me. Sex workers are a huge part of the goth community and many of the commodified aspects of alternative culture are directly inspired by the presence of BDSM fashion in these spaces. Most of these things are associated with each other because the Goth scene is one full of misfits and weirdos and those on the margins. Naturally, many sex workers feel embraced there. While it is indeed frustrating that many men see alternative women and fetishize them, it’s silly to ignore the sex worker presence in the goth scene; and to be fair, it hasn’t just been men who’ve assumed that I was a sex worker.
What bothered me though is that this man has had many conversations with me about my job, he’s even met some of my fans who occasionally end up at the after hours. However, he still believed that once he got me alone, I’d somehow reveal that I was indeed a sex worker and that all the things I have did not come from my hard work, but from a man. He started to ask me if I had ever been behind on rent; and I’m very happy to report that I’ve never managed to struggle in that way. We never returned to our friendly banter about my latest project. Instead, he propositioned me.
I will not get into the details of what he offered, but he wanted to establish a relationship with me where he comes over to my place every day and I service his very taboo fetish. In exchange, he’ll pay all of my rent and then some…and what he was asking for, while strange, wasn’t something I necessarily minded doing…but daily?? For some reason that really stood out to me.
Because I tend to socialize in after hours like I’m observing people’s personalities, I hadn’t really fully calculated some of the aspects of our interactions. During our conversation, he as begging me to show him my Youtube channel, and the thing is, I already have. I showed it to him and one of the first things he said about my channel, which isn’t about my appearance, was that he didn’t like my nails being as long as they were and that he preferred me with more natural makeup. I dismissed it at the time, but as he sits at the foot of my bed, using my sewing table as a platform for him to snort drugs from, I finally started to get a fuller picture.
When you’ve been liberated from men’s financial control for so long, you can forget how it works. You can forget that when men feel like they can control you through finances, that they also believe they can control everything about you. Seeing him every day and doing what he wanted me to do everyday, would have worn away at my spirit. Sure, I’d get my rent paid, but now this man has control over me every single day. I couldn’t share what I shared with him, with anyone else if I was in this agreement with him. It started to register to me that this man was actually frustrated with the fact that I wasn’t in a position where I was struggling so much that I’d entertain his offer. There were much sadder, much more dejected times in my life where I’d probably jump at the chance, but now? I’m not remotely close to needing it and I can tell that many men do not like that.
I can understand why many people take issue with the Bop House specifically, I also feel that much of the criticism is done without an understanding of how the industry has changed. When I did sex work, it was during an era where porn producers and pimps relied on the desperation of the young, often abused women who came to them looking for a way to do sex work lucratively. These companies and these pimps felt like the safest way to do sex work and many women were abused. Many sex workers still are, but OnlyFans has indeed, changed the game for many sex workers.
These days, if I wanted to be a cam girl, I could easily make my own account on a website like Chaturbate and start earning income without the help of a porn company. I’d still have to split my income a bit, but I could control my content. I could own it and I could produce it all myself. Expensive studios and cameras have been replaced with smart phones on tripods. OnlyFans models can simply upload their content and advertise it to people around the world very easily through twitter and now apps like Instagram and Tiktok. The reason why the Bop House is on these apps to begin with has to do with FOSTA SESTA laws which have made it so that sex workers can’t communicate their services through the platforms they were once able to. These laws were made to prevent human trafficking, but in all reality, they prevent of-age sex workers from using the promotional platforms they’ve been using. For many sex workers, these laws have pushed them offline back onto the streets and back underneath the thumb of exploitative pimps.
On Red Pill podcasts, you will commonly see men hold court around how degrading it is to be an OnlyFans model, but they will invite them onto their show to be degraded and ironically, this functions as self-promotion for their OnlyFans. In that way, I think the irony is on full display. There are an increasing amount of angry men who take issue with feminism and the progress it’s given to women, but those same men will complain about being a traditional man who provides for his wife. Yet there’s also men who feel frustrated that women feel entitled to their money, who also believe that when they become rich, famous and hot, they should be able to have as many barely legal girlfriends they want. Then there are men who want to see the money they spend as a downpayment on sexual favors, who absolutely resent sex workers. For many anti-feminist men, OnlyFans models represent the fall of man-kind; the end of “western civilization”. They see women who sell sex as a sort of infinite-money-hack, as these days, women can do sex work without a man in the middle. It used to be that because men took most of the money from the girls who worked for them, that many sex workers were stuck in perpetual poverty. Poverty that ensured that these young women always had a reason to come back to sex work and to use these men as middle men. But now that men are no longer benefiting from pimping in the same way and these women are able to make most of the profits, as these women come out and start sharing the numbers, of course these men are going to be upset. They’ve never made 43 million in a year. In their mind, why should she? She’s a whore!
While I think it’s worth discussing why models like Sophie Rain are successful and its worth criticizing how the Bop House promoted a teen who’s likely already being exploited, I think the anger people have for these women is misplaced in many ways. What people are really responding to is the fact that sex work is no longer underground. Our society has humanized sex workers so much during my lifetime, to the point where I can think of several who have fairly vanilla Hollywood personas now. With that has come improved conditions for sex workers, and are things perfect? Not really. However, what many don’t seem to be understanding is that while pushing these women off social media may seem like a solution to you, disempowering and shaming them makes the abuse porn producers, traffickers and pimps want to accomplish, much easier.
Shame is a big reason why many women who do sex work never report anything that happens to them. The attitude many have of dismissing and discarding sex workers is the same social attitude that encourages abuse towards them. For those personally affected by the patriarchy, it may feel empowering to shame women who do sex work because they are a tangible and precise target. However, since capitalism has existed and patriarchy was established to feed it, there have always been men who were willing to pay to have access to women, and women whose circumstances have been that their only path to financial mobility is a man. For as long as women have been able to have their own bank accounts, men have conflated our outward expressions of femininity as not that far from sex work. My experiences in multiple ends of this has made it very clear to me that at the heart of this anger around OnlyFans models is a resentment for women being able to become so financially comfortable that she objectively does not need a man. Men look at a gorgeous young woman like Sophie Rain and they resent that the closest they’ll ever get to her is being a paid member of her audience. Her financial freedom reinforces to them that she will never be so disempowered that she’d need to settle for them. That if she ever did date them, it wouldn’t be because they were the richest, hottest, coolest guy; as red-pillers like to suggest. She’ll date them because, well she chooses to; and its become clear to me that many men resent women being able to choose anything for themselves.
I think the subject of choice is worth considering because ultimately, many of these choices are simply illusions. I guess you could say that I chose to do sex work, but only because my other options were starving, with no school books and no medical care. No one wanted to pay me to flip burgers, but they would pay me to flip them on their backs. I don’t think most people who end up doing sex work would necessarily choose it. I know a lot of sex workers, but very few who I’d say loved their job the way I love mine. But what I’ve learned is that this can be said about most jobs. Sex work is only degrading if you see it as such, and in many ways, I actually think it’s much more degrading to let a corporation use your body and labor to maintain something you will never own that never feeds back into you beyond a small paycheck and then discards you once you fall out of line. I had a negative experience as a sex worker and I’m glad its no longer my gig, but if I got into it now, who knows. I hated taking off my clothes and being paid pennies for it. I hated how isolated I felt within it and I hated having to depend on men.
Sophie Rain and many other OnlyFans models have come out to say that young girls shouldn’t quit their day jobs for OnlyFans fame. That only happens to a very small amount of people. Most OF creators make just above minimum wage. I don’t think young girls are turning to OnlyFans creators and viewing them as role models, and if they are, I’d like to speak to their parents. Frankly, I think that’s where most of the blame should be placed. Tiffany Smith is feeding her daughter to the sharks because it pays to do so, and that’s very sad to me. More than these sex workers, I believe we should criticize the capitalism that would allow her to feel completely fine selling her daughter. Would she do that if it didn’t pay?
Sex work is work and we only think of it as easy because we view sexuality through a certain lens because of how sex factors into our lives. However anyone whose done sex work will tell you that if you think it’ll be easy, you will fail. As sex workers have built and gained their own platforms, they can have open conversations about that. To me, it’s hard to get the impression that sex work is glamorous if you’ve heard those conversations. Frankly, sex workers make it look easy, but that’s also part of the job. I personally find what I do now to be much easier. I found out pretty quickly that i don’t quite have the heart for it and I’m not very good at pretending.
At the end of the day, this is all marketing. The Alt Bop House is not catering to teenagers who are alternative who care about “alternative principles”, they’re catering to men who fetishize alternative women; and if you are one you know they don’t really like them, they just view them as more adventurous than the women they typically go for. They are selling a fantasy the way we are incentivized to do so under capitalism. About 6 months ago, some of you may have noticed that I have started playing up my appearance and have committed to a certain aesthetic on my Youtube channel. I’m also more overtly flirtatious and I’ve finally started wearing bras on camera (lol). Since I’ve made that change, my following has grown dramatically and I’ve made twice as much. On Patreon, I went back and forth with my audience about shifting into “Kat Blaque, the character” and that’s what you now see on my Youtube channel. It’s still me, but it’s a very curated, hotter version of me. My experience with sex work has made it so that I honestly have really struggled around the idea of putting myself together to film Youtube content. I hate the idea of selling my appearance, but I had to shift my thinking around this and I’m glad that I have. Now I see it all as a work uniform of sorts. Soft makeup, a Victoria Secrets push up bra and Jovi by Outre teased up to remind my audience that I’m a Goth without dark makeup that often distracts my viewers. It’s a look that’s worked; it’s a fantasy that sells. I could argue with myself all day about how I’m reinforcing some unhelpful things by leaning into these things so heavily, but at the end of the day, whether I wear a bra or not, whether I wear makeup or not, I alone will not defeat this societal trend of expecting women to be glamorous and presentable within the industry I work in and it doesn’t serve me to act as if it is my responsibility, because it isn’t. In fact, I’d say that trying to make it seem as if it is, does a great job of providing cover for the much harder to destroy societal reality of patriarchy.
These sex workers are easier to blame than the men who patronize them, but the demand for them will continue to exist whether or not they’re on the main stage or in the shadows. Personally, I like that things have gotten so much better for sex workers that they can finally get paid what they deserve without having to hand their paychecks to a man first and I will always support improved conditions for sex workers over blaming them for being sex workers. To me, that argument is no different from “what was she wearing”. It’s easier to criticize the clothes a particular woman was wearing than it is to deconstruct a rape culture that says if certain women look a certain way, they should expect abuse. But we lean into those half baked ideas because they’re easier to latch onto and we want to maintain the stigma around women dressing immodestly, and therefore maintain a central part of controlling women. There’s a reason why rich men who’ve historically abused women and participated in human trafficking are suddenly trying to “protect women” by creating laws that make it easier for them to keep sex workers and their abuse of them, in the underground.
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The Kittens in My Garden
One of my most vivid childhood memories is getting lost. Believe it or not, I got lost a lot as a child. I was one of those leash kids. We were on a walk in our neighborhood and she was outpacing me. She was dressed in her smart, purple work out attire that, in my memory, is always a very of-the-era retro design. She was focused on her fitness goal, while I was taking a more casual pace. I was always the kinda kid that walked the mile. This was one of the very first times I’d ever gone this far into the neighborhood. I was raised to be cautious; and growing up where I did, I never truly knew what it felt like to feel unsafe.
Our town had virtually zero crime and moving there was very intentional for my parents. My father was raised in the projects of Boston and he didn’t want his children to ever live a life like that. So, when they adopted us, they decided to raise us in a very safe, quite neighborhood in the San Gabriel Valley. My parents were the original owners our home, and that was impressive, but the houses higher on the hill were more impressive to me at the time. The further up you went, the bigger the houses became and the wider the driveways got. I’ve always loved architecture and I remember admiring those big homes, wanting to live in one myself, but not appreciating, at the time just how good I had it. In my wanderlust, I got distracted and lost my way. My mother would hit pause on her Walkmen and then double back to get me. She’d never leave me behind, but I remember that little bit of anxiety I had about holding her back. She was so driven and goal oriented and as a child, I don’t think I was quite as perceptive of just how much sacrifice she made to become a mother. She slowed down her pace and we walked the rest of the way together.

I would describe my mother as a type-A personality. Perhaps she developed it over time through my grandmother, a glamorous woman who, to my understanding, was fairly strict. She had high expectations for my mother, and from what I can tell, she fulfilled them. She graduated from Harvard with a Masters Degree, she married a good Christian man, she raised her children in a safe neighborhood and was very involved with the church. My mother was…impressive. One of the most impressive women I’ve ever known.
While my parents raised me in LA County, my mother worked in the middle of the city. She’d drive almost 4 hours to and from work daily, and sometimes I’d go with her. It’s impossible for me not to associate the city with my mother. I spent a lot of time with my mother, perhaps because, despite her being a working mom, she was otherwise quite traditional. She was pique 90s business woman classy. She always kept herself together and til the week of her death, she always kept a consistent hair appointment. You could never catch her slipping, and I remember my grandmother being the same way, just a bit more 60s glam. I’d often go with her into the city for her hair appointments. The culture shock I had when she’d show up to some lady’s house in the hood and she’d be getting her hair done in the kitchen, the smell of Blue Magic mixing with the smell of stove-fried chicken. People were so different in LA. Not to mention, growing up in the SGV, most of my neighbors were Chinese. I didn’t know very many other black people and sometimes these ventures into LA were the only times I interacted with black folks I wasn’t related to.
My mother was the first person I came out to. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but I do remember I started by telling her that I was attracted to men and I did this already knowing very well that I was not cis. When I said this to her, she said “that’s not it”; and initially I interpreted that as a rejection of my own statement of my sexuality; but with time I realized that she saw through my (not very convincing) gender performance at the time and recognized that I was likely a trans woman. She never encouraged me or told me who I was, but she never judged me. In school, I got into the habit of wearing baggy clothes over my usually hand-drawn, painted, or sewn clothes that I wore to school that were decidedly more feminine. My father shamed me a lot for being feminine when I was a child, so I learned to hide myself from him, but my mom was a different case. Sometimes she’d be sitting right there when I’d get back home and she’d see part of what I actually wore to school. She’d always chime in with a compliment or a comment about something I was wearing. I have a distinct voice memory of her saying “I like that” whenever I wore something different. I’ll never forget when I purchased my first pair of Doc Martens from my first check from my first animation job and she told me she wanted a pair herself. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that she liked my style so much as she was one of my first inspirations, but at the time, it always caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected her to be so accepting of me before I came out. She didn’t love all of my outfits though. Maybe the shorts were too short sometimes or the pants too tight. She made sure to let me know, but never made me feel terrible for being myself.
Shockingly, I was a Thespian in High School; and for my Advanced Drama assignments, we’d have to go see actual stage plays and do reports about them. My mom and I would go into LA by ourselves and go to the most bizarre little plays. Once I came out to my mom, I wanted to see as many LBGT themed plays as possible. When I came out to my mom, I asked her not to tell my father. So it became, I guess, our own little secret. I feel strange about that now, but back then I was so terrified of my father knowing that it felt nice to have someone at home that loved me enough not to do what I was afraid of my father doing to me. While I still remained closeted to my father, outside of the home, in retrospect, I was pretty out there in every other context. I was a kid with splatter painted rainbow jeans and fingerless gloves. we went to so many plays that had queer themes and I remember that being very impactful for me because I didn’t know very many queer people at the time. After the plays, we’d often go get food. There was always this line between my mom and I, and my brother and my father. They’re traditional dudes with chicken tenders diets and we’re more adventurous eaters with an ethnically diverse taste. So we always took our time together as an opportunity to eat in a more worldly way. We had this tradition of getting Pho, which was very exotic to us at the time. My mom and I just had this thing…this thing that only her and I shared. This knowing. This kinship. This love that was specific to us. A sense of humor and warmth and closeness. There was no voice that calmed me more.

After college, I briefly moved back in with my parents who, by then, had moved from that two story home I grew up in, into a little apartment in San Dimas. It sounds so classist now, but I remember thinking about how sad it must be that they moved from a home to an apartment. We went from having a ton of space to very very little. By then, it was impossible for my father to ignore that I was a woman. At this point, I’d already been stealth and since we lived in a new town now, I was functionally stealth while live in San Dimas at the time. I had just turned 21 and I went on a lot of dates and eventually, I met someone and we moved in with each other and I officially left home. When I moved out, things were a bit strained. My partner was white (well, passing… but that was a white boy!), and my dad didn’t really accept our relationship. Partially because he was white, but I think mostly because he was a man. Moving out marked the point where I started seeing my parents a lot less. Because of my father’s treatment of me, I didn’t like to call home very often and I often resented receiving phone calls from him. It was so hard to talk to someone who flat out doesn’t accept the version of you that is dramatically happier. I regret letting that get in the way of me speaking to my mother while she was still alive. She didn’t deserve to be punished because of how much I struggled to speak to my father. I will always regret not calling enough and bearing and grinning my discomfort just to speak to her more. I thought I’d be raising a family with that particular boyfriend and ultimately, after 6 years, I realized the suburban dream I imagined having with him wasn’t really what I wanted, and I no longer wanted to live in one of those big houses on the hill. So I left him and went to the city.
A lot of the little shows we went to were in the Hollywood/Los Feliz/ Silverlake area, and I knew that when I moved to LA, that’s the general area I wanted to be in. A few years ago, I signed a lease on a new apartment and I finally live in the Silverlake area of Los Angels. I really love my neighborhood… it’s gang territory apparently, but I’ve been told that if I mind my business, I’ll be fine. My neighbors seem to be really sweet even though I kinda stand out in the neighborhood. Once again, I’m one of the only black people in my area, but I love my location and everyone’s pretty friendly. My neighbors are mostly Salvadorian and they’ve confided in me that they’d rather have me here than a white gentrifier. I suppose my gentrification is less bad because I’m black. My apartment isn’t cheap, but it’s not the most expensive place I’ve lived. It’s the first place i’ve lived in LA that feels like home. I can’t believe I ever wanted to live in a big mansion. What would I even do with all of those rooms? I think it’s the perfect amount of room for me, and the best thing is, I’ve got a patio!
I’ve never had an outdoor space before and I gotta be honest, it really makes a difference! There’s something really nice about sitting on my patio with a CD on in the other room, a cocktail in my hand, the sound of my neighbor’s Bachata in the distance, and that sweet, sweet city air… maybe even a blunt to really take it over the edge. It’s like my little corner of paradise. It’s been a fun little project for me. I’ve never had outdoor space before so I’ve enjoyed buying all of these various little doo-hickeys for it. A cute little table and chairs, fake leaves to cover my storage, an umbrella for shade during the summer. I didn’t know I had to buy a heavy iron base for my umbrella when I first got it and I was so excited when I eventually got one and I was finally able to up my umbrella! That’s when I started sitting out there and I decided to cover the back gate with thick bamboo to give myself a little privacy because yes I do be on my patio half naked cuz I’m grown!
A lot of times when I’m writing my scripts for my Youtube videos, I’ll sit on my back patio and write on my Macbook. I was on my patio one afternoon when I got the phone call from my father. He said, through tears,
“Mumma’s Dead”
They’ve been married nearly 50 years and I knew that this man, whom I had grown so distant from, was hurting desperately. And so was I. I don’t think I understood permanence until I realized I could never speak to her ever again. I had waited for this moment in time where I’d be able to have Pho with her again, and it never came. It never will come and that hurt. It still hurts. My wound will never heal. I felt helpless so I screamed louder than I’ve ever screamed and a bunch of my neighbors peeped their heads out to see me crying on my patio. That was a day that changed me.
I remember sitting on her bed with her one afternoon, watching Bay Watch and chatting between commercials; and she told me that when she dies, she wants yellow roses at her funeral. I didn’t register it until I was at the funeral home, flipping through floral arrangements that the reason she said this to me was that I would ultimately be the person to make these plans. She knew that even back then. I figured out through my mother’s death that I was the most successful person in my family. Her funeral fell almost entirely on me. She had a Christian burial complete with a pastor from our church and I made sure she got her yellow roses and a lilac casket. She got her final manicure, hairstyle that I know she would have appreciated and beautiful dress that maintained her modesty, how she often did. Edward held me while I cried nonstop at her funeral. My hair was green at the time. It felt disrespectful and inappropriate for the situation, but I can hear my mom saying “I like that”. When she died, something within me shifted. An innocence I felt I still had, I recognized had been gone for quite some time.

One of the more recent additions to my patio was a small vase with my mother’s image on it. My aunts friend made it and I managed to take it from the repass. They have this sorta craft-like appeal that I know my mother would have loved. My mother is the reason I’m an artist. In fact, she’s the one who took me to an animation convention many years ago when I was a child; and it was there that I decided to go to Cal Arts because a very impressive person there had graduated from there. She was always making room for creativity. She volunteered for the Brownie Scouts at our church and she was always responsible for coming up with some new craft. Because I was always with her, I ended up doing a lot of these crafts and I think that’s where I got a lot of my handy, DIY nature from. I have fond memories of stealing her sewing kit and hand sewing a lot of my first pieces of feminine clothing. I have all the culture I do because of my mother. She introduced me to a world outside of the bubble created for me and placed the creative seeds in my mind that ultimately led to me being successful enough to be able to bury her.The photo on the vase is a photo of my mother in her home office. It’s a photo that portrays a fashionable woman in very humble beginnings. It’s a good portrait of the mother I remember the most. I found a lot of photos of her before she ever became a mom. It’s strange looking at photos of who your mother was before you existed. She had a sheen of youth, optimism and whimsy in her old photos. It’s clear that adopting us changed a lot for her. As I went through her things, this became even more clear to me. In every unfinished notebook and every scrap of paper nestled between a Daniel Steele novel, I saw the dreams she had. Every job she considered getting, language she started learning, every future plan she had and so so so many unfinished notebooks. One of the notebooks I found had little scribbles of texting acronyms. I remember when she wrote it when texting started and she would tickle herself with the silly acronyms we used during the height of t-9 texting. She loved that something like “g2g” meant “got to go” and “ilu” meant “I love you”. She always delighted in those simple things. She hated feeling out of date, and she was starting to look into taking classes about technology. I regret those moments I was frustrated explaining technology to her. I think she would have enjoyed TikTok.
My mom struggled with MS for many years. I saw her slowly deteriorate from the woman who would leave me in her dust to a woman who relied on everyone for everything. She hated that. She hated that she was no longer able to be the type-A person she used to be. She never wanted to give anyone the impression that she couldn’t do it. As I’m writing this with tears soaking my face, I’m realizing that I get so much of my spirit from her. That was one of the strange things I realized as I processed her death. That so much of who I am, is actually her. In many ways, I’m almost a different version of her that went down an incredibly different path. As I collected her things, I noticed just how many little private bits of happiness she put aside for herself. So that’s where I get it! She had all sorts of trinkets and things that may have seemed insignificant to most, but I know for her contained a memory. We had so much in common and when I found this picture of her, I cried because I never realized that she too also used to wear oversized glasses. I’d never known that, we’d never discussed it. We’re just oriented the same way. Even though I’m not biologically related to her, it’s hard not seeing how much of her is in me.

Growing up, my father built a walk-in closet for my mother to store her extensive wardrobe in. Because I used to go through it all the time, I was aware of just how much she had downsized. She used to fill rack upon rack with clothes, but at the end of it all, she had very few things. She’d moved twice by now so she had downsized just slightly, but surprisingly, she kept a box full of every accomplishment I ever achieved. Every silly paper I got an A on. Every poem I ever wrote her. Every playbill. Every trophy.
Recently, I decided to make a real attempt at having a garden. I don’t have a green thumb at all… in fact, none of my plants have managed to stay alive. However, at the funeral, someone gave me a house plant. I dunno the name of it, but it’s a pretty cool lookin’ one. I’ve managed to keep it alive and that made me feel hopeful; so naturally, I decided I could buy a few garden beds from Target and actually try to grow my own food!

I planted a bunch of random shit. Mostly squash, herbs, tomatoes, peppers, swiss chard and some random flowers. It was slow starting at first, but it’s really started to flourish. I still gotta figure out a way to get rid of those pesky aphids, but all-in-all, it’s starting to look really productive. I started moving some of my planters around to catch the sun more effectively and I feel like I’ve recently found the most perfect feng shui for my patio because it now feels massive and lush now that my summer squash is really taking off. I gotta do some cleaning, but it’s really becoming a peaceful place. my little corner of tranquility.
The tricky thing about having a garden is you have to tend to it. Right now she’s a little sensitive. The heat is getting to her so I have to make sure I always come back to my apartment and water it so that she’ll continue to grow. A few days ago, Edward finally helped me set up a drip system so I’m expecting it to grow a lot better now. However, before then, it was nice to have a reason to come back to my apartment and take care of something. I spend most of my time at his apartment so until recently, it wasn’t uncommon for me to miss a day and then come back to wilted plants. That started feeling selfish though so I made a habit to come back every day to make sure the plants were ok.
The past week or so, I’ve had some visitors on the patio. A pair of very adorable kittens who have recently enjoyed using my patio as a shady little get-away during the heat wave.
Alexander saw them this week when we had our date and he and his wife are pretty notorious for taking in the neighborhood cats. They have a little shelter for the ones that stop by. When the kitties first came to my patio, I realized how nice it felt to have them there. They’re so cute and sweet, and its just nice to see them. It brightens up my day a little bit. One of them is really timid and shy and the other is very chaotic. I sometimes sit on my patio and watch them catch flies.
I got the impression that they weren’t eating and didn’t have a cool place to lay so I decided to open up my umbrella and I tried to create a few little spaces for them to chill on my patio. For my mother’s funeral, I received a large flower arrangement in a basket. I kept the basket for emotional reasons, and I realized that it would actually make a pretty great little place for the littles to chill. So I took some pillows and put it in there so they’d have a place to relax.
Today while I was in Target, I decided to get a little bag of cat food for them because I figured they were hungry. When I got home, I took my doggy placemat and put some food and water in it and they took to it immediately. I actually grew up with a little kitty named Sparkle who my parents had to get rid of because I was allergic. That’s always made me sorta sad. I’ve never really been a pet person. I like cats, I guess but I’m not a cat lady, really…not yet at least. And I gotta admit, these cute kids had me really considering it.
As I sat there watching them eat…I started crying. There she goes again, crying on her damn patio. I realized that in a way, without realizing it, I had been exerting, in my own small way, a maternal energy in the space where I learned that I had lost my mother. I think my mother passing away shifted something within me that made me care a bit more about hungry kitties in need of shady place to lay their head. Sometimes when I have moments like this, I wonder if this is evidence of some sort of suppressed maternal desire I have deep down inside. I came to LA for self discovery when I realized that I didn’t really want that suburban life I once dreamed of. But sometimes I have these moments where I remember that a different version of me imagined that at this point in my life, I’d be putting my kids into the 2nd grade. And honestly, there are times where I think about it. Should I be a mom? I feel like the overwhelming answer is a no. I can’t imagine it… but at the same time, I think I’d be a really cool mom. Maybe feeding these kitties is the closest I’ll ever get. As they skittered back into their little shelter under my garden bed, I felt immensely thankful to those kitties for giving me a moment of purpose and not running away from me when I started crying. I like them on my patio. I love the kittens in my garden.
As it turns out, those kitties aren’t street kitties at all. They’ve got a parent already, so there goes my fantasy of adopting them! They still come to my garden and they’ve since become favored by my neighbors. I’m really thankful that my mom adopted me. We aren’t biologically related, but that’s my mother through and through. I used to think we were so different and I wish I was able to celebrate how similar we were when she was alive. I realize now that every little polite suggestion she gave me was her recognizing part of herself in me. That while I knew her as my mother, she was so much more than just that. She existed outside of and beyond her role in my life as a mother. She was complex, she was strong and ultimately she taught me how to love…I miss her a lot. I miss our banter, our dark jokes, our particular love for each other. But in so many ways I’ve realized that she’s not really gone. She lives on in me and is in the love I have for others. So she will always be with me, even if she’s no longer with us. And the same is true for every other person she’s ever touched. She will always be my idol.
Thanks for the kittens, mom.
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Who’s To Blame For The BAFTA Incident?
John Davidson slung a racial slur at Michael B Jordan and Delroy Lindo, and it started a debate about Tourette’s. I wanted to share my perspective.
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Comment Response: “ can trans people accept that they’re just a fetish?

I accept that in a transphobic society, there will always be people who fetishize me. What I don’t accept is that it is impossible to be attracted to a trans person and not have a fetish.
As a person in the BDSM community, I understand the nuance differences. There are people who fetishize the idea of a person being trans and this is often coupled with assumptions and projections about how they operate sexually. Fetishizing a trans person looks like pathologizing transness and never accepting that they exist beyond this pathology. It doesn’t look like a person finding me attractive, being interested in my body and even enjoying aspects of it that aren’t like a cis woman’s.
Trans bodies are not a representation of a fetish, and it’s only within a transphobic framework that our bodies are understood as such. When you accept trans women as women, it becomes easier to comprehend that while cis women may not experience being fetishized for being transgender explicitly, they are often fetishized for many other reasons. It is not the existence of those fetishes that then marks them as a fetish inherently. Fetishism is something that they experience; but it is not their experience nor is it does it define them. But the difference here is that our society at least grants them their gender, and the idea that they exist beyond that.
Because transgender people are stigmatized, they are often forced into doing sex work. For many transgender people, sex work is the way that they survive in a society where it has historically been legal to discriminate against them. The impact of that is that the vast majority of representation people have of transgender people is in some way connected to sex work and explicitly sex workers who need to fetishize themselves in order to survive. The understanding of trans people as an inherent fetish is largely connected to the fact that trans people are rarely allowed to represent themselves beyond this context.
There have been several high profile instances of trans women being celebrated outside of the context of sex work and almost every time there has been pushback. For me, this is the perpetual cycle that needs to be broken. Because trans women are oppressed, they often end up doing sex work, and then because they’ve done sex work, they are often seen as an inherent fetish, and because they’re seen as an inherent fetish, they’re not seen as suitable for public society, and because they’re not seen as suitable for public society, most people only understand them as a fetish, and therefore oppress them. In other words, it is the oppression of trans women that gives you the understanding that transgender people only exist as a fetish, for the most part.
However, in my life, I’ve had multiple long-term relationships. I’ve been in love more than once, and currently as a polyamorous person I have several long-term partners who very much love me and are very much proud to be seen with me. They don’t fetishize me for being transgender, in fact, they didn’t even know that I was trans when we met. What I think people in your position will always struggle to understand. Is that the reality for many transgender women moving through the world is that while plenty of people fetishize us, and plenty of people see us as through stigmatized lens, it’s actually fairly common that when men are attracted to you, and especially if you fall into a certain range of beauty, you will meet men who desire actual relationships with you. Will that be most men? Probably not, but that really doesn’t matter they are men who do and I often think that when people go out of their way to reinforce the idea that trans women only exist within the scope of a fetish, they are often fighting to maintain their access to trans, people by reinforcing and engaging in transphobia that makes trans people more accessible to them because of stigma.
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Closing 2025…
When I turned 30, someone told me that it wouldn’t feel nearly as transformative as 35. I wasn’t expecting that to be true. I have a resentment towards being told who I am or how things will go. I’ve never wanted to go to a psychic because if my future can be read, I’m not so sure I’d like to know it. I’m stubborn. I don’t fold easily. Too stubborn to admit that time has passed. 2025 was a year where a lot of things came into focus for me. It’s the year when I finally started to understand a lot of things about myself. I’ve had to admit to some hard truths and recognize some very real things about myself. It’s the year I started to really look in the mirror and realize that enough time has passed for me to be honest about the reality of certain things.
Time isn’t something I am very conscious of. To be completely honest, even though I’ve lived in LA for almost a decade now, it feels like I just got here. Intellectually, I know this isn’t true. I’ve seen many businesses open and close. I still remember going to Amoeba at the old location….but it’s like when the quarantine happened, I stopped aging. Time stood still and hasn’t moved forward for me in many ways. I feel like I’ve been consistently working and working and working and challenging myself to improve and grow, but I’ve lost sight of that time. I’ve lost sight of the fact that I moved to this city in my 20s and I’m half way through my 30s. I don’t feel like I am though. It’s a very odd feeling… but I’ve had to be honest about it. As I buried my parents, a lot of things came into focus for me. It’s cliché, but death really teaches you how final everything is. It kills me to know that I never called my mom as much as I should have. That I wasn’t able to speak to my father before he died. Its hard for me to recognize that I allowed time to pass in such a great way that in all reality, in the pursuit my career as a content creator, I’ve forgotten what’s important.
In retrospect, my ex wasn’t great, but I was sucked into my online content creator life so much that I can admit that I did neglect aspects of our relationship. The thing I’ve come to understand is that because of my upbringing, I have a very severe, almost automated survival instinct. I don’t let myself rest until I know I am financially secure. I started to feel insecure in that situation, so I hustled, and I hustled, and I hustled until I made more money than he did. When I really think of it, I’ve always used what I’ve had; and what I’ve always had is my creativity…and my body. I don’t like using my body. I don’t like selling it, measuring it, or categorizing it. I hate fitting it into a mold and selling it in whatever package sells best, often a package that feels so disconnected from me. But aren’t we all doing that? Aren’t we all acting and moving in ways where we are pretending and selling?
For about a year, I committed to wearing the same wig and shooting my videos the same way. In a way, it was really nice because it meant that I had cohesion. People clearly preferred the cheap pixie wig to my natural hair. I noticed I was getting more compliments on my appearance. Women would stop me in the airport bathroom and ask if I cut my own hair, and ask how. I always felt they were being shady, but at a certain point, I had to accept that, whether it was a genuine celebration or ridicule, it got attention, and that attention can be monetized. I’ve never liked attention. Not really.
I think most of my problems can be traced back to the fact that I am not a capitalist. I like making money, I like having enough to feed myself and to enjoy a few nice things here or there; but I’ve never loved money. Money just made me feel safe. Money meant I didn’t have to put up with men I didn’t want to, and it meant that I was able to not rely on my parents….if I’m being honest, what I realized this year was that I have been hustling for most of my life, which has made it really hard for me to be appreciative of what I have. But this was a year when I started to truly appreciate my life.
If you follow my YouTube channel, you’ll know that about two years ago, I decided to commit to uploading higher-quality content less frequently. This was a great decision. At the time, I was struggling to maintain my channel’s mainstay, True Tea. Initially, I started the series as something easy I could do every week. I’d film several different episodes in one night, and I still had plenty of time to live my life. When I first moved to LA, I was going to BDSM and Poly socials really regularly. I was making friends and meeting people. It was why I came to the city. It’s how I met Alexander, whom I love very much. I’m so glad that I was able to make the time to live and experience life… but when the pandemic hit, I found myself with too much time to overthink, and I think I forgot how to live my life in a way that’s becoming apparent to me as the year closes. Because I was trying to do more, I put most of my energy into creating video essays. These essays would perform much better than my previous content. People liked them. They wanted more of them. But only very recently have I done the numbers and realized that while I’d been working hard, I hadn’t really been working smart. I was investing more in my content than I was making.
It’s bizarre because, here’s the thing: while I’ve had worse months, I feel like the content I was creating for a while was my best content and content that performed the best. I felt good about what I was doing and how it was being received, for the most part. However, I had to be honest and recognize that I was feeling drained. I’ve been feeling drained for a while. My parents death has me thinking a lot about legacy and what I want to leave behind. It’s made me realize I really don’t want to look back on my life and say the thing I was best known for was my YouTube channel. For years and years, when people recognized me for my YouTube channel, I’ve cringed. Not because I don’t appreciate my followers, but I guess it’s always been something I could do but it was never the thing I really set out to be good at. The speech I used to give to students before Trump dismantled that path of income for me was always about accepting that maybe the job you excel at isn’t the job you were necessarily meant to work. For me, that was about how storytelling was always a talent of mine that I’ve never seen as one. Sometimes you have things you’re good at that you weren’t expecting to be good at and its important to embrace those things; especially for survival. However, the other side of that story is that Youtube was never my first choice.
I’ve been a YouTuber since I was a teenager, and I don’t imagine a time in my life when I won’t be in some way. The reality is that among the hobbies I’ve had, blogging has always been my favorite. I was an early adopter. I was among the first of my kind, though few will ever acknowledge it. I didn’t start this for acknowledgement. I started it for the love of blogging. My blogs have taken so many forms over the years, but fast forward today, the reality of my life is that it is my current full time job. It’s a job I am actually happy to have. These days, I can feel how my situation has given me more comfort and security than most. This year, I learned to appreciate the fact that I am an artist and that I get to create full-time. I get to largely talk about anything I want and because I can, my job is fun. I’m excited to create something new and I love the cycle of publishing something and having it entertain people. But what I’m realizing is that I have allowed myself to completely lose sight of many things in my life because of how I’ve focused on Youtube.
It sounds odd, but even though I have several partners who love me, this was the year it really sank in: they actually mean it. My hustling has been bad for my relationships. I work too hard and too much. There are times when Alexander, a software engineer at a very large company, just wants to take me out and let loose after a stressful workday, but because I don’t have traditional hours, I still feel like I’m on the clock. Around the time I finish one video essay, I’m off to start the next, constantly trying to capitalize on a trend, which I’ve never really enjoyed. I’m not a trendy person. I don’t care for trends, but my job requires me to at least remain aware of them.
When Taylor Swift released her last album, I decided to mix things up. Instead of engaging deeply in the discourse and spending weeks upon weeks researching and writing some video about Taylor Swift that I’d barely care about, I just decided to sit down, do my nails and listen to the album while recording my reaction on my phone. I edited around the copyright, uploaded the video and put a nice thumbnail on it….and it made me more money than the past two video essays I had worked on that I had paid several editors to edit. I was able to pay my rent with a video that required, maybe 3 hours of my time. That was a turning point for me. I started doing live-streaming and I found that I can edit my livestreams into content; even better if I record high quality self footage while I do so. With a bit of pre-planning, I can EASILY edit that livestream into a video and depending on the topic, it’ll perform as well as a normal video essay. Live streaming also allows me to have a more direct connection with my audience and many of my followers have missed my livestreaming. I’m ending the year with earnings higher than they had been in the previous month simply because I have been uploading more content and doing more live-streaming. Sure, some of these videos aren’t performing well. Some of them sit at just under 40k views, which is a huge shift from the 100k my video essays were getting, but in terms of my earnings, it is turning out to be a much better thing for me to work a bit smarter.
What I can’t get past, however, is the feeling that this content is “trashy”. It feels trashy for me to upload content that isn’t well shot, often deeply researched and performed a certain way. But it feels like a good thing for me to continue doing and I find that even if the stream is just me relaxing and creating something while reacting to things, that can do something for me. I’ve managed to earn a decent amount on just the livestreams, which I wasn’t even thinking about. Livestreams are helpful because I’m able to a lot of what I’d do in post just live on a livestream. It feels like the right choice.
If you’ve followed me on Patreon for a while, you’ve heard me speak about struggling through a lot of this, but I feel like I’ve truly started to figure out what’s what. Ultimately, I have recognized that if I start live-streaming, I can upload content regularly to my page that will then perform decently enough to, bare minimum, tide folks over for the more substantial videos I’m working on. Last year, I lost a lot of time and resources towards experimenting, but I think what I have to do is use my Youtube channel to fund my more creative endeavors. I have so many things I want to do. So many creative projects I want to complete.
What I’m going to do in 2026 is commit to making creativity a mainstay of my Youtube channel. I want to do all of those projects that are rotting away in my apartment. I want to use my overlocker. I want to do something with that pile of leather I have in my apartment. And what I’ve realized is that I find myself being drawn back to my roots. I was once a DIY Youtuber content creator. That content didn’t get viewed, so I started talking about myself. People were more interested in that so I kept going. That led me to feminism and that led me to social justice, which ultimately let me to leftism. And in a way, I find all of these things coming together in this exact moment in time. And I’ve recognized that I am actually in a great position to do something big. I have the platform, the desire, the talent and the ability. I don’t want my channel to become what I would internalize as trashy, but I like the idea of doing a few livestreams a month and spending most of the month working on several creative somethings or others and putting together something huge.
Frankly, there are some projects I paused that I want to bring back…and collaborations I want to see in 2026. So I’m going into this year with a lot of excitement.

Happy New Years!
-Kathryn
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A Lone She-Wolf’s Limited Point of Reference
I’m used to being alone. When I was a child, it felt very lonely, but the older I get, the more normal it feels. As I’ve written about on here many times, I’ve shifted a lot over the past 10 or so years. I’d say at the height of my supposed attempt at being a housewife, I’d say I was a pretty introverted person. I was content with staying in, doing things around the home and living a smaller, more modest life. I didn’t want for much, but I also didn’t know very much of the world at all. I was replicating a much more conservative version of what I’d seen my mother do. Perhaps more conservative, because I was attempting to fit into a more conservative family in a more conservative space. I’m glad that phase of mine has passed, but it was an outgrowth of a long history of having a limited imagination and a shallow reference point. My reference point has always been off, though. I was raised pretty sheltered and the one thing I do appreciate about it, is it made it so that I’m very good at entertaining myself. I write, I sew, I draw, I sing, I create. I have a DIY spirit partially born from this idea of accepting a certain degree of isolation. Isolation that may have been imposed on me, which I’ve become a bit too used to. I’d say for the first portion of my life, I didn’t really enjoy going beyond my neighborhood. Like these invisible lines were drawn on a map that I wasn’t allowed to pass. And those boundaries have expanded more and more with time. To this day, I think I spend so much time on Hollywood Blvd because it’s just within the lines I drew for myself when I used to jump on the bus and go to the Blvd and imagine what it was like living in the city. Now that I live here, I’m quite a drastically different person from that failing aspiring housewife and that scared little gender queer child who used this place as exposure therapy and gender exploration.
When I first started running away to Hollywood, I’d get on a bus after stuffing my boy clothes behind the bushes near the bus stop across from my development. Underneath my suspiciously oversized hoodie and jeans, I had a dress I’d made from a t-shirt. Few people know this, but my original username for m Youtube channel was TransDIY because I was a transgender woman who did DIY projects before I was a transgender woman who moaned about men. I guess things changed because men became such a prominent presence in my life. When I was younger, men were everything. They were love, they were hate, they were survival and they were death. At least it felt that way. Coming to Hollywood, I was determined to live there and I knew I needed to make money to afford rent to get out of my parent’s house. So as a teenager, I spent time with older men who were able to feed me and some of them put money in my pocket. I knew men desired me, but I did not understand my own desire or my own boundaries. What men did to me felt like it was meant to be that way. Going to LA made it apparent that I “passed” because I could be a completely different person in the city. I think that’s actually why I was so drawn to it. This idea that I could be myself, but without the preamble.
I’ll probably write about this at some point, but a few years ago, I started a bit of a burlesque journey. It was something I tried to do for a project that really uprooted a lot my soul in a way that I wasn’t quite expecting it to. While I’d had all of these conversations about how my boundaries have changed and how I’d become more sex positive, I was terrified of being seen on a stage gesturing in a sexual manner. I’m sure that sounds bizarre to some of you now, but so much of my life has relied on public modesty, but private depravity. I have unfortunately existed on the rather extreme ends of the Madonna/Whore dichotomy. As an adult, I’d spent a lot of time trying to forget those men I engaged with a teenager. The abuse they experienced that to this day I struggle to describe as such. The need for me to acknowledge what has happened, but how much it conflicts with my more conservative upbringing that makes it hard for me to ever truly feel that “victim” is an accurate term. I think I’ll forever be a person constantly moving forward, but struggling not to think of how these steps register with where I’ve been before. When I pretended to be a good girl for my ex, I realized that I’m a terrible liar. Performance sometimes feels like a lie to me. I think that’s why I never went very far as an actress. But I committed to learning about Burlesque, and in the process, I learned a bit about magic.
My Burlesque mother is a sapphic witch; to the surprise of no one. Mae Lust taught me that magic can mean many things, and that there are many different ways of viewing it, but one is through the lens of ritual. These little actions you take day by day that set you down the right path. There’s both a woo and a non-woo understanding of it, and as a skeptic, I do appreciate that. For one of our rituals, we had regular check-ins where a group of femmes all get into a circle and place items we want to be blessed on an altar. One by one, and sometimes in tandem, we move our bodies the way they feel drawn to move. No movement is too crass, no gesture too inappropriate. The feminine energy in the room is tangible. Each person embodies femininity in a way that feels unique to them, with the nuance of our sexual person taking shape as our energies and intention focused on the altar. I learned that these sexual persons have nuance and layers and that each of us has, more or less, a trinity of them.
You find these sexual persons by choosing from a list of about ten of them, which feels the most accurate to you in the moment. The one that scared me the most was the “Innocent Teaser,” a curious fae-like icon. Scared me because it was the one that felt like it was the one most related to my trauma. However, the Enigma, a weirdo sex priestess who prefers solace, felt the most familiar. The sexiest of them to me? The Ice Queen: a strong and cold, but glamorous icon that has no problems drawing boundaries. A bit of a Domme, really. She’s the one I admired the most, the one I feel I am the least like.Last week as I got off the subway on Hollywood and Vine, I realized something. For most of my life, I’ve come to this place and walked all the way from the Pantages to the Fonda. In fact, I often do it when I get a new outfit or feel particularly cute that day. I’ve stomped over these stars so many times, and rarely, if ever, do I read them. However, one day as I was taking this walk I’ve taken many times, I spotted Theda Bara’s star. My only real context for her was a college class. It was my first feminist class, and it was about lesbian vampires. I think I took it thinking it would be an easy grade, but it turned me into a feminist. Theda Bara was one of Hollywood’s first “vamps”, and while I won’t pretend to be a huge fan (again, celebrity) I do admire what she represents and has represented. As I thought about that, I thought about how all of these lines connected to each other at this exact point. This place, that class, this street, this star, this figure, these ideas. Who would I be without these things? Without a reference point. As I had these thoughts, I realized that in many ways, this walk of mine is a ritual. A confidence ritual I’ve been performing since I was a teenager. When we danced towards our setting spray or our favorite necklace during that Burlesque check-in, it doesn’t really matter whether or not our items are actually imbued with sex magic. The memory of how I felt in that moment is distilled into this object, which will inspire me to recall it, and that confidence will be projected. When I’d come here in my upcycled t-shirt dress, every compliment I got made me feel just that much more confident being myself. In retrospect, I looked like a plum-fool, but I do appreciate the confidence those people chose to give me at that phase of my life. Even if walking the blvd doesn’t imbue me with sex magic, the pattern of taking this walk when I feel good has increased my confidence and put me where I am now, but of course, I can’t pretend it’s all good. Another thing that hasn’t changed about me since I was young is that I still don’t drive, meaning I take public transportation most places I go when ride-share gets too expensive. I think people over-dramatize the dangers of public transportation in LA. Things are much scarier on the streets when you’re alone.
Something I’ve really tried to get across to people is that there’s a bit of a misalignment between how people see me and how I actually am. Because I am an openly transgender blogger who is black, people often assume that I find safety and comfort primarily in queer spaces. They also usually think that I face extreme stigma around the men that I date, and that much of the way I navigate through society is informed by that. I never really know the right way to engage with this assumption because it often feels like I am disappointing people when I flat-out narrate my life. People don’t really register that the only way I could have possibly been stealth is by “passing” and really, really fracturing myself in a way that was indeed quite homophobic and transphobic. People don’t tend to understand that the content they saw of me in 2016-2017 was part of me pulling myself out of a lot of my very sheltered programming. When I was younger, I’d imagine my mid-thirties as the time when I’d be raising children, maybe working as a teacher, the way my grandmother did, and the way my ex’s mother did. I imagined that after a colorful life in art, I’d be starting to truly settle down, but things did not at all go that way. But that was my reference point up to that point. I had read about other ways of living, but I didn’t believe they were possible for me. I’m ashamed to say this out loud, but I did for a while believe that I wasn’t really capable of doing much else; a defeatist attitude I think I inherited from my father. Since dumping my ex, I’ve been “off script” and it’s gone well, but I am still not what people imagine me to be.
People are always so confused when they see that I get along quite well with straight people and have a degree of comfort around white people that is, perhaps, unwarranted. They view my comfort as a sign of self-hatred. Like, I’m choosing to be around white people, because I hate black people, and choosing to be around straight people because I hate queer people. However, the truth is that’s my reference point. My parents were very deliberate about raising me where I was raised, outside of predominantly black spaces, and so I’m very used to being the only black person in the room. I’m…straight, and when you couple that with being stealth in the OC for most of your 20s, that’s not really going to prime you for productive queer friendships. I was a massive pick me during and post-college, which of course isolated me from a lot of women. There are things I express online and advocate for that reflect my developing understanding. There’s so much I have to learn about socializing with queer people, having healthy friendships with women, and decentering men. These are active things I have to work on, not because of self-hatred or denial, but because, again, I don’t have the reference point. I’m still learning about myself and others. One thing I do register is that many of the things I’ve normalized aren’t particularly good for me. I’ve also recognized that many of these things are outgrowths of capitalistic propaganda and misogyny. On one hand, I want to grow out of these patterns, on the other hand, I’m finding that I move very differently than most people seem to.
As I’ve shared here several times, I have three local partners and one out-of-state partner. I’ve been with these partners now for quite some time, and I am pleased with them. My relationships all fall into different slots in a way, but they’re all functional. My partners are proud to be with me, they aren’t conflicted about their attraction to me, and they all dote on me and treat me quite well. They’re also significantly less social than I am, and except for Edward, older than I am. In a way, I’m living a very ass-backwards existence with my late 20s, early 30s being my “going out” era, but I kind of prefer it in a way since I can take care of myself for the most part. Every week, I go to a Goth club off Hollywood Boulevard, and what I’ve always loved about Goth clubs is that, for the most part, men leave you the fuck alone. At least that’s how it was at first. In the past few years, I’ve noticed an uptick of pickup culture in Goth clubs with what I’m assuming is an influx of baby bats and a shifting of the culture. I don’t… dance with anyone. I go there to dance alone. Yes, I look sexy, but it isn’t for you. It’s for me. It’s for the part of me that used to be so afraid to show my midriff. It’s for the part of me that needs to move my body and knows it will get too hot if some skin isn’t exposed. I’m not there to meet random men on the dance floor, but more deeply, I don’t think I have the reference point for it. I’m used to men viewing me as exotic; I’m used to them fetishizing me without knowing that I’m transgender simply because I’m black. I feel like men often consume me as a product, not a person. I have so many odd conversations with men that reveal that. Sometimes, like I shifted and sacrificed part of myself to be stealth, I’ll shift and sacrifice part of myself just to have an odd conversation. I don’t get to the Goth club until midnight on most nights, so usually I’ll go with my friend to an after-hours where he DJs. I can almost count on having an odd conversation there.
I moved to LA because I wanted to go to Goth clubs and Goth events. Without these things, I’m not sure I’d be here. I don’t go out on the weekends so whenever I meet people who are living it up on a weekday at somewhere other than a Goth club, I’m always very curious what they were up to. So a lot of times I try to make friends and chat with people. I meet such an interesting mixture of people. Minor celebrities, musicians, artists and more. It’s actually one of the only spaces where I intentionally interact with people who aren’t alternative. I’m so used to being around other weirdos, that I do occasionally forget that I am one myself. Usually, I’m wearing some sort of sexy outfit that feels like normal clothes to me, but may feel risque to people in attendance. There are dancers who stand on the stages at each end of the spot and because of how I dress, sometimes people think I’m one of them, which comes with a slew of assumptions. For the most part, I let them make these assumptions because I know this is likely the last time I’ll see them and in a way, I’m just trying to do field research. My sample is tainted, you know, with the cocaine and all, but still. I have the most interesting and most annoying conversations, but I still have them. I find people to be utterly fascinating and frankly, my guard is a bit more down at the afterhours because Im not there to dance.
I’ll talk to anyone, and I often do. I once had a really great conversation with the partner of a little person who loved K-pop as much as I did. She was so sweet, and we had the most bizarre conversation as we both ignored the men who were trying to get our attention. For obvious reasons, men often want my attention in these spaces that exist just after the club lets out and just before a bad, well, even worse decision is made. I can summarize most of my conversations with men as “the men are not alright.” Last week, I had a First Nations gentleman and a Russian guy both explain to me that they were really eager to “try” a black woman. An Italian man had a long conversation with me about what I wanted in life, which ended with him essentially telling me that it was my duty to continue procreating just so that my features would remain in the gene pool. It’s fascinating having all of these odd conversations with people who will immediately project certain things onto me. As a trans woman, I find it to be kinda fascinating the various ways I’m interpreted.
There was a biker I had a bit of a crush on for a bit; a gentlemanly dude with a nice head of hair, a Harley (lol), and a great smile. One of the few men I’d say I was actually fairly attracted to in a “lizard brain” kinda way… and he turned out to be a MAGA dude. I didn’t really find out until he was posting a bunch of crap on his page about boys in locker rooms. For a while, we debated. He was the only MAGA guy I’d really spoken to in years. But I couldn’t maintain my air for very long. When he first met me, he told me that I “seemed like a church girl”. Ironically, he saw a part of me I often assume isn’t visible to others. Yeah, I have a lot of these strange conversations to learn about people who are different than me, but I also learn a lot about myself. Sometimes lessons aren’t flattering. Perhaps I say my tolerance for these conversations stems from intellectual curiosity, but it may be a form of masochism that comes from having fewer boundaries and lower self-esteem, not truly being the Ice Queen. I think the uncomfortable thing for me is that I’m unsure. That’s the point of my own self-development, I’m at.As it stands, I have this fear of becoming a ghost. I spent most of my 20s becoming one as I distanced myself from my family and friends. My family’s rejection of me was very hard for me to take and since I found so much solace in men, I’ve naturally managed to find a few good ones that aren’t abusive or toxic. Men who aren’t trying to exploit me, just enrich me and love me. I have to remind myself that I am very fortunate to have them, as they are fortunate to have me. Time is finite, and I think that one of my challenges will always be that it’s actually quite hard to maintain multiple loving relationships and also many deep and close friendships. I had my deepest friendships in my youth. I find that I am skeptical and suspicious of most people I’ve not come to know well, which makes true friendship hard. Those who I’d call friends are ever-present in my mind and do not require constant upkeep. We’ve danced on the same floor or around the same pires, cried over the same person, held each other when we need to, and advocated for each other when the other is out of the room. I think friendship has always been complex for me because I am such a solo person. I struggle to conceive of things I’d truly enjoy doing in tandem with another person when I’m not romantically involved with them. In a way, I want to blame my reference point, but at what point does that transform into preference?
In a way, I feel malnourished. The Burlesque coven was great because I was able to build and develop something creative with other femmes. It felt nice to be surrounded by mostly women, cultivating a space for the feminine and the appreciation of it. I know that I desire more of that, but at the same time, my reference point is being rejected, denied, or stigmatized in these contexts. But when I say that, the truth is, it’s a faraway memory. I haven’t truly experienced rejection from women’s spaces; in fact, they’re the only ones that have ever embraced me, but I am terrified of that. Terrified of having to directly deal with the very harsh reality that, for most of my life, before I ever claimed transwomanhood, I was essentialized into a female-shaped box. That’s because of that, I’ve been harmed; and it’s still hard for me to not blame the shape of my body, one that’s never been altered surgically, that’s always had a curve, for why that happened. And when I imagine that rejection, it’s not hard for me to immediately feel that safety exists among men. The pick-me parts of my brain almost rewire to adjust to that delusion, but I know that isn’t true. Life has shown me that.
The point I’m often trying to get across when I speak about not being queer, identifying as heterosexual and that being a very big part of who I am is to make the point that I am still very much working to decenter men, that my politics may be more queer than most straight women’s, but I’m still a straight woman working through a lot of ignorance and phobia. Maybe I’m just more open and honest about that, but it sometimes feels like I need to be so that people understand that I am always growing and what I express is often an extension of what I’m learning and a reflection of my desire to share what I’ve learned and ignorance I’ve had to pull myself out of. I often feel that I don’t deserve the assumption of queer proximity most give me, frankly, because I am black and transgender. It often feels like people have this resistance to simply hearing what I have experienced because they would like to believe a completely different narrative they identify with more. I’ve never identified as a gay man, I’ve never been known in this world as a man, my dating pool has primarily consisted of straight men and not because of my own sensitivity around identity. At 35, I can now say I’ve been in more relationships than not; and that’s part of the problem. If you listen to me speak about my life and you think to yourself “wow, Kat sure does spend a lot of time with men. She sure does spend a lot of time with straight people. She sure could stand to have a more positive relationships with women”, all of these things are the result of me being raised very conservative and being motivated to center men. These are hard baked in habits I’m trying to break. I am self aware, but old habits die hard and patterns repeat for a reason, sometimes I have to catch myself in them.
Part of why I share so much about myself is to start those conversations, and I think the part people have missed is that I’ve never really attempted to have these conversations as an expert on these things, but as a person who probably spends more time thinking about them than most people. I’ve been litigating and openly speaking about these issues for most of my life. I’m only able to communicate it more clearly because I’ve been doing it for so long. That shouldn’t be confused with the idea that I am done developing. I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever be. No matter how old I get, I will remain a student of life, but I still think I’d prefer my own company.
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Hot + Introspective- November 22
This was a fun and rather productive week. A lot of happened, a lot didn’t. Here’s what I thought was Hot and introspective. Here are some fun posts from my Instagram:

JURIN ASAYA – PS118 (feat. Rapsody)
Starting out this week with 90s rap vibes as XG’s Jurin releases a collaboration with the legendary Rapsody. XG is a Japanese girl group formed by Avex Japan and YG in Korea. First, primarily promoting in Korea, the group has since shifted to both local and international promotions and has been dominating stages worldwide. To me, their ability stands apart from their peers, especially their rapping. So it’s no surprise to me that the leader of the group, Jurin would make her solo debut with a legend.
There are a lot of girl groups that have really stood out over the past few years, but XG is probably my favorite Japanese group right now, and it has the discography I listen to most often. This is not their first time collaborating with some of the people who pioneered the sound they clearly are inspired by. Their song “Left Right” features Ciara, who I think does not get nearly as much credit as she deserves for inspiring much of Asia’s sound. While some have called out XG for appropriation and “swagger jacking”, my observation is that these girls are pretty genuine and passionate about their craft, and Jurin’s determination and skill always shine through for me.
Xlov – Rizz Live Stage Censorship
Xlov is an independent K-pop group with a genderless concept that has been all over my algorithm. In a season of debuts that are beginning to feel somewhat repetitive, the group’s talent and refreshing concept are being celebrated. Their recent tour across South East Asia really demonstrated just how much this unconventional group is growing. Each member has a different ethnicity: The leader, Wumuti, is from China and is Uyghur, Former Boys Planet contestant, Rui hails from Taiwan , the very sassy Hyun comes from Korea and the adorable Haru is from Japan. Together this global group has created something unique, but it hasn’t been without controversy.
Recently, they’ve faced some backlash from censors for using innuendo in their song Rizz. The group is riding a very thin line, with many Korean netizens unsure how to respond to them. Despite these idols not speaking openly about their identities and attractions, some are uncomfortable with the idea that some of their songs may be about men, with Rizz’s lyrics saying, “Boy, I’m gonna kill it hard, like, yeah.” You can see the original uncensored performance below.
Inkigayo removed the original version from their page, and that’s part of why I think it’s hot this week! Xlov just released their first mini album UXLXVE, which includes Rizz!
This Amazing Freestyle by Aqua Moon
I was randomly scrolling through my TikTok feed and this freestyle by Detroit comedian and rapper, Aqua Moon. It made my day and got me movin’.
Jesse Welles Performs “Join Ice” On The Late Show with Stephen Colbert
This was my introduction to Jesse Welles. What a powerful performer.

Campbell Soup’s CEO’s Ghastly Statements
I absolutely cannot believe these statements made by Campbell Soup’s CEO. You’ve gotta hear them for yourself,
Drag Queen, Taipei, Draws Puts Eyes On Sudan
One of my favorite Drag Queens using her platform for good.
The Connection Between Greek Life and Epstein’s Network
This TikTok content creator really expertly lays out how hazing within college fraternities grooms those who want power into silence and complicity.
A Protestor Expertly Addresses Rebel Media’s Zionism
Zionist reporter, Dave Menzies was attempting to get soundbites for conservative rag, Rebel Media and he wasn’t quite prepared for how this protestor responded…
The Dearborn “Sharia Law” Psyop
A lot is going on in Deaborn right now, with some local politicians being exposed as being part of an Islamophobic psyop geared at empowering a white supremacist rabble-rouser with a history of causing problems.
Jewish Woman Unpacks Her Relationship with Judaism During Genocide
Many of my Jewish comrades are reconciling with their relationship with Judaism and their opposition to what’s happening currently in Palestine. I found this video incredibly raw and a fascinating insight into what many Jewish folks are presently contending with.
Thanks for reading! Please enter your email below to subscribe to my blog and receive notifications when I publish new posts. I promise, I’m trying to do more!
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Decolonizing Love, The Shemale Fantasy and Hierarchical Polyamory As A Trans Woman
Decolonizing Love is a leftist platform dedicated to educating the poly-curious about non monogamy from a decolonized lens. Nick and Millie have been in a happily polyamorous relationship for over 14 years. Millie is a non-binary she/they Kenyan immigrant who’s been non monogamous their entire lives, while Nick’s non monogamy started once they began dating. Though they’re based in Toronto, Canada, their content has been celebrated world wide as it is one of the more accessible platforms dedicated to attempting to break down some of the commonly embraced aspects of colonization that appear within non-monogamous relationships; namely, hierarchy. As their platform is largely about criticizing the concept of hierarchy within non-monogamous relationships, it’s often been used as a resource for couples transitioning from monogamy to polyamory. Nick and Millie offer their followers peer support, while also selling a relationship contract for $149 that has apparently appeared in Business Insider. Make no mistake, Decolonizing Love is a business.
Recently, they’ve come under fire for some of their positions, namely Millie’s statements about transgender women and some of their comments about BDSM practitioners. As you can image, as a leftist, kinky, black transgender woman, I have a lot to say about these comments and you can watch my hour long video essay that goes over most of what I have to say on my Youtube Channel. However, in this post I wanted to focus on Millie’s comments about transgender women and expand on some of my thoughts about how these comments very naturally result in what I know is a contradiction to their stated politics of “decolonization”, and stance against hierarchical polyamory.
Before launching into my entire thoughts about this; a disclaimer. I have not, nor have I ever been invested in “cancelling” anyone. Even some of the people I’ve written about on this blog are people that I, at the end of the day, believe are capable of change. I never want to believe that people are completely immovable, which is why I make the work I do. In general, my problem with the way Decolonizing Love discusses many things is their very black and white way of viewing certain things. They often leave no room for nuance or practicality. Their content is primarily fixated around shame and greatly relies on their audience being ignorant, but drawn to do better.
Clearly, their audience grants Millie a lot of credit because of her African background and often times when criticized, Millie will say that it’s an attempt to attack her and subvert her points, specifically because of this background. I want to make it clear that I am especially not invested in tearing down black creators and those who I know are ultimately under a harsher lens of scrutiny because of misogyny.
Millie has… half heartedly apologized for what I’m going to be discussing in this post, but I’m writing it because this is an aspect of discussions around non-monogamy and hierarchy that I often feel is not just dismissed, but actively suppressed, largely because I feel that people do not want to face the harsh reality of the disconnect between their politics and their actions. Hierarchy is something I feel quite sharply BECAUSE I am a trans woman.
So what exactly did they say?

Underneath an Instagram post, Millie, who makes most of the posts for Decolonizing Love, discusses her preference for pre-op transgender women. She says she prefers them over cis women. Her reasons? Trans women with penises could potentially fulfill one of her sexual desires: being fucked by a woman with a functional and responsive penis.
This comment was made very publicly and that’s worth noting because for quite some time now, we’ve adjusted to a social norm where these conversations about cis bodies are fairly taboo. One time I was in a club with my partner Alexander, who is a tall white man. Another white man who that had been flirting with me for months saw us together and decided to launch into this very uncomfortable rant about how Alexander would absolutely love Asia. He’d recently traveled to Japan and found that Japanese women absolutely loved him! Why? According to him, Japanese women have tight, small vaginas that are particularly satisfying to, presumably, larger white penises. He said this to us in public and, yes, it was quite uncomfortable because it was such a disgusting, objectifying, and racist thing to say, but he said it very comfortably. Everyone around him was mortified.
Despite the right’s attempt to normalize “locker room talk”, we still tend to acknowledge that it’s very disrespectful to publicly discuss a women’s genitalia in a degrading way. Yet transgender bodies are often viewed as public domain. So when our bodies are described, they’re spectacles first that are either repulsive or seductive; either way they exist to be consumed. Being a transgender person often means accepting that most people will only ever humanize you if you’re able to closely mimic the gender you identify as, that you weren’t designated. Outside of that, you often feel like you must instead convince the world of your humanity, as to avoid objectification or stigmatism. You’d think a great ally to the trans community who has a decolonized perspective would be aware of the toll objectification has on transgender women especially. Millie speaks about transgender women’s genitalia as if she’s describing her favorite sex toy. And frankly, that’s how many poly folks view trans women: as toys to be taken out of the nightstand only when the fancy hits and no one else is there.
I’ve met so many people who “prefer” trans women and they’re almost never in long term romantic relationships with them.
When I first came into the poly world, I went to a little gathering that happens at a bar in the straight part of West Hollywood, the Sunset Strip. I was fresh meat, just getting out of my six-year, vanilla, more traditional relationship and I was eager to finally explore polyamory with the right people. I pretty immediately got the attention of a shaggy haired dude who I’d later discover had some what of a cult-of personality in the LA poly scene. This was my first time meeting him though and I was immediately taken by his seemingly aggressive statements about feminism and constant reference to his sexuality being less than straight. At the time, I’d spent a good years or so kissing conservative frogs in Orange County and here he was; one of them lefty liberal type feminist dudes from LA. Surely he’d be a better choice.
Because of his constant reference to his bisexuality, I felt like I didn’t need to rush to tell him that I was a transgender woman. At this time in my life, I had just started letting go of being stealth and I wasn’t quite comfortable being super open about being transgender. I figured that since he was bisexual, it wouldn’t be a huge deal. So before our first date, I let him know and I sensed a bit of hesitation. He explained to me that he’d never been with a trans woman before but he thought I was cute so let’s see where it goes.
This particular guy would have (and I’d bet does) absolutely loved Decolonizing Love’s Facebook content. He was an obnoxious Facebook male feminist who made post after post about political issues that would, of course, make him seem like a good dude. His wife was very openly bisexual and he would spend a lot of time making posts about desiring men, despite never actually having any romantic experience with men. He’d make a lot of comments about how certain popular male figures were attractive, but when I observed him, The poly community is, of course, full of an array of people of various sexualities, but I never really saw him give attention to anyone other than women and non transitioned non-binary people who were designated female at birth.
We dated for a few months, but he would often pull away when I attempted to initiate intimacy. It was hard for me to register this as he’d speak openly about his drive and desire and frequently made dates with new women, whom he would have some degree of intimacy with. We’d go out together or be at the same event at the same time and he’d make a point of taking a picture of us and putting it on Facebook, but privately, he avoided my touch.
Eventually, I felt like I was chasing him, which is a bit embarrassing to admit. He never seemed available for me, but was for his other partners. I obviously knew the reason why he went from overeager to performatively doing the bare minimum. While he never said this to me, I know that he was uncomfortable with my transgender body. For me, one of the main downsides of passing is that I’ve often experienced people making the assumption that I was female at birth, and then had to experience the disappointment when I share that I am not. And yes, often times, this disappointment has been from people who claim bi or pansexuality.
Being a transgender woman often means being an entity that inherently challenges a lot of the people you interact with. You may not even be trying to do so, but, frankly, people are so deeply propagandized that they engage in a lot of things without realizing that they are. In a way, I called his bluff. He had been presenting himself as a woke, inclusive, experienced guy, but in reality, he was someone that still had preferences and measured people’s value based on those preferences.
I don’t think there’s a way to ever state a preference without it sounding problematic. Frankly, I think if Millie is interested in well endowed, trans girl tops with functional pensies and doll-like bodies, that is her right. What I take issue with is the way certain people like to pretend they aren’t capable of engaging in behavior that reflects bias. My experience is that most people who include trans women in their dating pool only do so for sex, and many of the ones who desire long term relationships with them often have a preference for what I describe as the “Shemale Fantasy”.
A”Shemale” is the “best of both worlds”: a beautiful woman with sizeable breasts and a functional penis. If you look at a lot of the top selling transgender porn, that’s mostly what you’ll see, and it’s from porn that many people develop The Shemale Fantasy. A fantasy that one day a shemale will passionately penetrate you with her very functional, and large lady penis. Are there transgender women with big dicks that like to fuck? Sure. But typically if you’re a trans woman on HRT and your penis is functioning the way a cis man’s functions, you’re not yet at the point where HRT is truly feminizing your body.
In the early stages of HRT, one of the things people often check for is whether or not a trans woman is getting erections at the same rate as they were before they started. Over time, hormones will decrease the size and functionality of the penis as it’s working to suppress the things that would make your penis sexually functional. Does this mean it’s impossible for trans women to get erections? Absolutely not. In pornography, some transgender performers will take drugs like Viagra to make themselves functional again. Outside of sex work, some trans women will opt for a certain hormone regimen that leaves enough testosterone in their system for them to do so. But either way, it’s important to point out that while it’s completely valid for someone to have this sexual desire and there’s no wrong way for a trans woman to have sex, that for many transgender women, being feitshized in this way is particularly hurtful because of the dysphoria they experience, which I chasers who call themselves allies would understand is more common than not. Many transgender women want bottom surgery and being fetishized for their bodies can be quite traumatizing. Millie isn’t a trans woman so I’ll give her a bit of grace with her use of “pre-op”, but there’s a lot you could read into there.
A “pre-op” trans woman is typically a transgender woman who plans to have “the” surgery. Her ultimate goal is not to have a large and functional penis, but to feminize her body and eventually have a gender affirming surgery where her current parts function in a way that makes living in her body more liveable, as it aligns with her view of self. For many trans women who feel this way, erections are upsetting, not enjoyable. Many trans women who have severe bottom dysphoria that would encourage them to get “the” surgery aren’t interested in being sexually active at all until they’ve had it. For those transgender women, losing functionality of their genitalia is a good sign. It means that their hormone regimen is working correctly and feminization will be successful. Many transgender women will avoid masturbation just to avoid a spike in testosterone that would potentially clash with their hormone goals.
If you see a “pre-op” trans woman in a pornography, she’s probably trying to earn the money she needs to afford “the” surgery. It’s a surgery that will cost many trans women somewhere between $60,000 and $100,000 depending on where you are and your insurance. For many trans women, sex work is one of the only viable ways they’re able to earn enough money to transition. So the great irony is that trans women often end up needing to capitalize on their dehumanization and thus fetishism in order to survive in bodies they feel humanized within. Many trans women feel forced into doing sex work, and it’s ironic how that’s also how many people develop a desire for transgender women. A desire that often alienates us more than it validates us as it’s often based in the realm of fantasy. Few trans women do not have complicated relationship with their genitalia.
I think many people are used to understanding transgender women as being perpetually rejected, and while it’s true that many people reject us, what I wish more people understood is that many people accept us and desire us in the way we want to be desired. For Millie, it likely felt complimentary at the time to say what she said as very few people area willing to publicly state an attraction to transgender women at all; but it’s still objectification that only really happened because trans women aren’t granted their humanity as a baseline. What made her comments ironic to me is that they have a clear indication of preference and hierarchy that would indicate that she’d likely be less interested in dating a cis woman or a woman who DIDN’T have a penis that was eager to fuck her.
Decolonizing Love says a lot of things about hierarchy that I agree with. When a couple attempts to transition their relationship from monogamy to polyamory, I do find that they often operate more-so as an “open relationship”. To me, the distinction between polyamory and an open relationship, an open relationship is other people servicing the desires of the primary couple, the other is about people who all experience romantic love for each other. Romantic Love is something I’ve often found is gatekept from you when you’re outside of someone’s sexual preference or curiosity. Plenty of men I’ve attempted to date over the years explictly stopped trying to date me because I didn’t want to fuck them. For me, my desire to not top is two fold. Without getting into the gore-y details: I couldn’t do it even if I wanted to and if I wanted to, it wouldn’t be without having major surgery. That’s a me thing, not a trans thing though. Either way; for that reason, I’ve always taken issue with is that within an open relationship, you’ve got one couple that’s trying really hard to make sure their interactions with other people don’t have a negative impact on their relationship. This feels very reasonable and is a very common way that many practice non-monogamy, but if you wanted to practice polyamory, you’d need to add a bit of love to the dynamic. It’s my position that polyamory as a term really should only refer to people who love multiple people, not simply sleep with multiple people. Sleeping with multiple people is easy, but truly loving multiple people requires a capacity I find many monogamous people don’t have. Not saying that to sound all holier-than-thou. That’s just my observation. Polyamorous people have the ability and desire to hold more than just a sexual interest in a person. Of course not every relationship is about love, but within an open relationship, it’s off limits. Yet when you’re a trans woman, you often only find yourself on one side of this equation.
Before recognizing I was polyamorous, I had a lot of experience with men who were in open relationships. The situation would typically be a cis man married or dating a cis woman whom he loves very much and would never want to break away from. That cis man has a curiosity for trans women, often a Shemale Fantasy, and he’s gotten permission to pursue this desire with a transgender woman. These relationships were almost always about letting him get his tranny fix and then sending him back to his wife or girlfriend that he gains some sort of social capital from. No one could know that he was interested in me or that we’d had sex. It’s their little secret that must be maintained. I must maintain it, in order to protect their relationship. The sex we have is in service to their relationship. The idea being that because he’s able to get a bit of tranny sex on the side, he can love his woman all that much more. Unfortunately, this is something I also feel among some truly polyamorous folks.
When you’re still fixated on the Shemale Fantasy, it doesn’t really allow you to understand that it is just that; a fantasy. Like the white dude talking about how Asian Women just can’t take his huge white cock, there are probably always going to be a few Asian Women that confirm his bias. However, when you view people through that lens, it has the effect of not allowing you to understand their individuality. As a trans woman who can’t fulfill the Shemale Fantasy partially because I don’t want to, but also because I’m physically unable to, it has always been disorienting when people decide that this makes me a less valuable partner. Within polyamory, sometimes this has become a problem. In general, on dating apps, even vanilla ones, I have to indicate that I am a person who only bottoms because, yes, there are people who do desire long term relationships with trans women, but only as bottoms. Millie identifies as pansexual and even she has a genitalia preference when it comes to trans women.

When I’ve had conversations with people who cling to a sexuality label that suggests that they sleep with both men and women, many of them will dance around essentially acknowledging that the truth is, they don’t want to date a person with a penis unless they’re using that penis to fuck them. In their minds there’s not really see much of a point to dating a transgender woman unless she uses her penis in a very particular way. This may seem like a given, but like I said, a huge majority of trans women do not want to have sex in that way let alone have their genitalia focused on at all. For the fetishist, this may be confusing, but for people who grant trans women their humanity, they recognize that trans women can have a diverse way of feeling about their genitalia with many of them not even having penises. As I’ve written about on here a few times, I don’t really think there’s anything wrong with preferences, even if you could argue that they come from various isms, but let’s be honest about that. As a pansexual, if Millie says she’s primarily attracted to pre op trans women among all women, it’s not hard to imagine how she’d pull away from a post op transgender woman.

My point of contention here is that the natural result of a polyamorous person having this “preference” is that everyone who doesn’t fit it will fall to the wayside. What frustrates me a lot about conversations around hierarchy in polyamory is that the experiences of trans women are often never really introduced to the conversation. If we exist in a society where colonization has taken root and many people only have a very exotic understandings of who transgender women are and how their bodies work, when it comes to pursuing romance, trans women will often experience two very harsh sides of the same coin. They’re either embraced as a fetish or understandably rejected because we aren’t cis. What aggravates me is that many cis poly folks don’t want to be honest where they are in their journey of understanding their attraction to trans women. It’s as if being honest about it is something people are afraid to do in either direction. They’re afraid of outright saying that they exclude trans women from their dating pool entirely, or they’re afraid of saying they only like a select type of trans person that’s more tolerable based on which genitalia they have. I’ve known way too many “pansexual” men in the poly community who are only attracted to feminine people who have a relationship with womanhood; but will reserve romantic feelings for the ones designated female at birth specifically. Too many people clinging to labels because being honest about how they really feel would get them “cancelled”. Many people within the poly community refuse to be honest about how they feel about trans women one way or the other. They refuse to acknowledge that they are inexperienced with trans women and thus are unsure about whether or not they could date them long term the way they’d date a cis woman or that they have sexual feelings for trans women that don’t lend themselves to long term relationships or anything beyond fulfilling a passing sexual kink. None of these people want to be honest about where they are and the ultimate result is that time is wasted.
As I said, a lot of people don’t seem to register that there are indeed people who desire trans women the way they want to be desired. When I met Edward in a quiet little dive bar in K town, we were attracted to each other and he didn’t care that I was trans and he didn’t expect me to fulfill a Shemale Fantasy. He was just attracted to me as an individual; not the embodiment of a fantasy he’s had for a very long time. He, along with my other partners actually do very much appreciate that only one of us in the relationship is being penetrated. I’ve had so many debates with fetishists about how unreasonable it is for me to expect men who have an attraction to me to not want these things, but I’ve been able to find four partners that do not at all feel that way. With that in mind, I want people who feel like Millie to understand that we don’t need these vivid statements about your Shemale Fantasies to feel celebrated or embraced. Humanizing us the way you’d humanize a cis person goes a very long way; but why exactly does that need to be said?
What I found ironic about Millie making this comment from an account called Decolonizing Love is that one of the reasons I have the politics I have is because many years ago, I did a research paper about Two-Spirited people and how they experienced genocide at the hands of Europeans in the Americas. When the white man came to Indigenous lands and saw that there were people who existed beyond their own binary conceptions of gender, they wanted to put an end to them because these people conflicted with one of the main tools of colonization: patriarchy.
Through religion, capitalists have been able to instill this idea of submission to authority and the Christian conception of this places women beneath men, with men existing just beneath God, who is of course a man. While plenty of people are “naturally” monogamous, within a patriarchal society, monogamy matters because legacy matters. If a man is to spread his seed and bind with a woman, he wants to make sure that those children are his and for most of our existence, monogamy was the only way that could ever be ensured. To Decolonize monogamy, we have to also decolonize our conceptions around gender because these things are tied to one another.
There’s a reason why, despite several very well documented stories of pregnant transgender men, the idea that HRT will make you infertile is a huge talking point for those who are trying to dissuade trans masc folks from transitioning medically. There’s a reason why Elon Musk spends his days ranting about the white birth rate on Twitter and also happens to absolutely hate transgender people, including his own daughter; whom many of his fanboys see as a stain on his legacy. There’s a reason why Donald Trump, through is dementia is continuing to rally specifically against transgender people. Capitalists understand that gender is one of the main modes of control because patriarchy has been so instilled within us via colonization that people easily fall into line when they feel their gender is questioned. Telling men that they aren’t real men has encouraged generations of men to throw their lives away so that oil companies can have more oil. Telling women they’re not real women has encouraged many of them to allow their bodies to be used as vessels to birth workers who will slave away to make the Musks and Zuckerbergs of the world more richer as pregnancy continues to be the primary reason women experience poverty. Misogyny convinces many men that as long as they aren’t a woman, they’re doing just fine. Defying the gender binary means defying one of the most potent ways in which capitalists pull our strings; and they know that.
The presences of patriarchy in our culture is why so many people are both repulsed and excited by transgender women. In a patriarchy, if you are a man, it’s in your best interest to remain one and to maintain the small little box you’ve been assigned at birth. You’re shamed for rebelling against what has been repeatedly reinforced as the correct path for you to take. There’s a reason why “you can’t give birth” is such a potent argument against trans women for so many. It’s because that’s the understood role of a woman in this society. To essentialize gender is to embrace the narrative of patriarchy and a tool of the capitalism, which doesn’t care about these things beyond their ability to keep everyone in line.

If you watch my video essay, you’ll know that a good portion of it is dedicated to Decolonizing Love’s stance against BDSM. They reject it on the basis that it replicates the tools of the oppressor. They describe the minorities who enjoy it as having some great epigenetic need to give or receive violence. It’s a very sophomoric understanding of kink and BDSM and especially the community around it.
I organize a BDSM much in Los Angeles that is very well-attended by transgender women. Vanillas don’t tend to understand that for a lot of us in the kink community, we are there for reasons other than BDSM. More that just a few of my attendees started as one gender and I now see them in a new gender. I’ve seen many trans femme and trans masc people blossom over the four or so years I’ve been hosting what is, frankly, the most diverse BDSM munch in the city. While there’s certainly a range, Kinksters who are community oriented also tend to be leftists who are invested in creating an alternative space where mutual aid is commonplace and many of the pains of the vanilla world are intentionally subverted with the idea that we can exist and thrive beyond what the vanilla world accepts as the norm.
Many of our events feed right back into the political work we do. I’ve hosted four paid events where all of the proceeds went to people providing resources for queer and trans people in the city. The same exact resources that actually saved my life as a teen. We were able to raise $11,000 with the help of a local dungeon in Los Angeles. The work I do, and have done both inside and outside of the BDSM community has often been about providing a space for trans people to be themselves and be embraced, not as the fantasy, but as reality. I know that the events I’ve hosted have helped build confidence for trans people who often feel there are limited places for them to be themselves. Vanilla people who fetishize trans folks probably don’t know this, but that’s a fairly common thing within the BDSM community. Many of the leaders of our community are transgender, and that’s not because trans people are more perverse, but because most of us actually do intimately understand the need to create space for things that don’t typically fit into the neat boxes left behind for us after colonization.
It’s my experience as a both a trans woman and a kinkster that makes me roll my eyes at a lot of what I see Decolonizing Love post. While I am aware that their current belief is they are only receiving criticism from people because they are jealous of them or because they’re part of a government organized initiative to destroy their African, leftist platform, I want to make it clear that once again, I do not have any investment in “cancelling” them. There’s are a lot of good, helpful content that they publish and I’m not someone who likes to see anyone or anything as wholly and entirely bad, but that’s not really a grace they tend to extend to others. Their platform is particularly well-loved by the kind of person who likely wouldn’t have any the experiences that I’ve shared in this post, which is why I’ve decided to share it. I hope it helps someone recognize patterns they may not intend to repeat.
Each of us is touched by colonization; we can only work to ensure we don’t continue its legacy.
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