Back in October of 2022, it dawned on me that something about the way I'd been relating to my audience could be considered unconventional at best, and sloppy at worst.

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I was in Los Angeles, attending something called YNOT Cammunity.

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YNOT Cammunity was a three-day business convention exclusively for people in the online porn industry. I bounced from one lecture to another, trying half-heartedly to absorb a wealth of information on various subjects related to my career development. The subjects included social media growth, SEO, flirting on OnlyFans (Make Believies 101), and detailed instructions for a black magic summoning ritual that would allow me to bargain with The Dark Lord for fame and fortune.

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At some point, while schmoozing with one industry wig or another, I watched a man's eyes glaze over as he scrolled through my Twitter media. Out of curiosity, he'd asked for my socials. My Twitter was all I had to give him, save for an abandoned Instagram account on which I'd posted a couple of pencil illustrations years prior (yes, pencil illustrations; I did not spell "thirst traps" wrong).

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"I love aesthetics," I said. I sensed he didn't get it. All of my posts at that point were attempts at showcasing the creative efforts I'd made to make my streams look more striking—like using strong vignetting from a crop lens on a full-frame sensor to create a peephole effect, or deliberately contrasting a strappy red ensemble against cyan LED lighting.

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No, he didn't get it. And after several hours of feeling unable to engage with the very practical and useful material presented to me, I was beginning to not get my "it" either. Expressing myself artistically did not lead to more or less money, nor did it lead to more or less praise. It was a non-factor. No one was expelling rivulets of semen while focused on the subtle halo of light which separated my head from the background (Cinema"thot"graphy 101). Yet, I couldn't bring myself to stop.

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Later that day—after having mulled over the implications of that aforementioned interaction and second-guessing my visual approach to camming—I found myself discussing the performance of camming. Sitting across from a new face at a new table, I shared how I found it challenging to climax while streaming sometimes. I recounted a particularly difficult session that lasted an excessive 40 minutes with my Hitachi Magic Wand, ending in a gnarly friction burn. My conversation partner—a comely cam model with feline eyes—responded with a smile, "I've never had a real orgasm on camera." I took a second to think on this revelation.

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"That's smart," I said. I meant it.

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After the convention concluded on the third and final day, I attended the YNOT Cam Awards. I was nominated for an award, so I walked the red carpet (it's not as fancy as it sounds). An interviewer asked me something like, "How do you make yourself stand out from other camgirls on Chaturbate?", which I had difficulty answering because it struck me as a naive question. In retrospect, I was naive (and also direly in need of media training).

 

I fumbled my way through a response, saying that every camgirl was unique. My thinking was this: We all have our own singular blend of physical features, experiences, personality traits, and weapon proficiencies. I "stand out" just by virtue of being myself, as does any other woman on this planet.

 

A man may be attracted to woman A, but will never be attracted to woman B, no matter how hard woman B tries to get his attention. If user molluskman69 loves the way jessica420 can wax poetic about the inherent eroticism of a split oyster, why the heck would he go watch uwu_kimberly, who couldn't name five species of mollusk to save her life?!

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The interviewer let it go.

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The Plan

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As you've probably gathered from the title and all the stuff that came after it, I have been in this business for 12 years, but a consummate business woman I am not. My popularity and survival in this industry might speak to a certain unwitting acumen, but I think it is more likely that I am just the hottest person alive.

 

While I continue to grapple with these realizations, I hear the siren call of optimization. It wants me to become the most marketable, the most viewed, the most "efficient" performer. Low investment, high return. Lush go brrrr.

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But I am really fucking bored by that prospect. So, I have decided to seek a balance between utilizing what I believe to be some of my own inherent strengths (conversation, artistry, sensuality) and utilizing what I believe to be the tools of the rich (lying, scheming, monocles).

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Mainly, I want to be less concerned with being "real". Bringing myself to orgasm with toys every day is exhausting, even desensitizing. Mere days before writing this, I hurt my vagina using a dildo, so it's out of commission for however long it takes to heal.

 

For years, people have projected traits onto me no matter what I tell them. For example, a viewer recently sent me a message that read, "This isn't like you," and the presumption that he knew me well enough to make that assessment really chapped my hide. Given this phenomenon, I might as well unleash my inner thespian and have some fun. Maybe my inner thespian lives in your city. Maybe she can have 20 orgasms in 3 minutes. Maybe she's mute. Maybe she thinks you look just like George Clooney, but better.

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Chaturbate is awesome, but I may switch streaming platforms, opting to find a site whose viewerbase values a spectrum of entertainment offerings outside of the Lovense line. I've always been good at creative show ideas (not just visually, but conceptually).

 

Seeing as Chaturbate is the sex cam site with the most traffic worldwide, maybe I just need to try, and keep trying, until the online audience I need finds me.

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Speaking of online audiences, a retired camgirl messaged me recently asking if I was in need of any social media assistance. While I do not know if that offer still stands, I think that hiring some kind of vetted assistant to handle things like social media marketing and messaging is very attractive.

I must also mention my desire for mods. Recently, I watched a gorgeous young lady on Chaturbate step out of frame for just a brief moment. In her absence, some mad ruffian took to his keyboard, assaulting the chat with a cutting remark about how she'd ruined herself by getting a pair of discusting implants. Fortunately, her mod silenced him before she could see that offensive mispelling of the word disgusting.

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In conclusion,

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I think of my decision to pivot in this direction as a way to expand my toolset—for both personal and practical reasons.

 

It's an acknowledgment that the essence of camming is, at its core, fantasy—and in fantasy, there is so much more freedom to express oneself creatively. Clearly, I need creative outlets.

 

My decision is also a symptom of reluctant acceptance. This is a business, so it should be optimized for profit. My stream is a product, so it should be made to sell. People will develop parasocial beliefs about me, so I should surrender to being their human canvas. Promotion is essential, so I should outsource all those boring marketing tasks I've heretofore avoided. I have a lot of changes in mindset to make—12 year old habits to break—and most of those changes won't even be perceptible to you.

 

I embarked on this journey at the tender age of 18. It has been over a decade since then. I've learned a lot about online sex work, and I've learned a lot about myself as well. I am no longer just a girl, standing in front of a cam, asking it to love her.

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Thanks for reading.

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