Being an OnlyFans creator also comes with its challenges. There are societal stigmas and judgments associated with this line of work, and I have faced criticism and negativity from some quarters. However, I have learned to overcome these challenges by staying true to myself, being proud of my work, and educating others about the platform and its diversity.
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I haven’t always been an open book, spreading her legs and joy for the world to see, I was more of a closested freak. All my friends knew I was incredibly promiscuous and loved sex, but that stayed in my immediate group. Nowadays, I wear my heart on my sleeve, my sex life is plastered all over the internet and I’ve accepted that I’ve opened myself up to being judged for what I do.
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VibeWIthMolly/VibeWithMommy shares her opinion on what women actually want and gives helpful tips on how to approach a first date as well as tips for physical intimacy, consent and how to seal the deal! In my dating life I have made quite a few men uncomfortable with my forwardness. I’ve had a guy make up an excuse and left the date after only 30 minutes of conversation. I admittedly knew we weren’t a match so I got pretty vulgar fairly quickly. What did I say? Fine I’ll tell ya. I told him one of my kinks was to get objectified and fucked like a fuckdoll from time to time. I think it freaked him out a bit…
One misstep, my boot slides out from underneath me and my face makes contact with the rock. I’m now draped over the beautiful rock face cliff like a little goldendoodle who just played for hours at the dog park. My floppy curly ears frazzled, ego floating in the cold river below and my fear a blazin’.
Well, the first time I was naked in public was when I was a child. I don’t remember much from that time, but what I do know is a story my mother told me. She said she could never keep clothes on me.
VibeWIthMolly/VibeWithMommy shares her opinion on what women actually want and gives helpful tips on how to approach a first date as well as tips for physical intimacy, consent and how to seal the deal! In my dating life I have made quite a few men uncomfortable with my forwardness. I’ve had a guy make up an excuse and left the date after only 30 minutes of conversation. I admittedly knew we weren’t a match so I got pretty vulgar fairly quickly. What did I say? Fine I’ll tell ya. I told him one of my kinks was to get objectified and fucked like a fuckdoll from time to time. I think it freaked him out a bit…
One misstep, my boot slides out from underneath me and my face makes contact with the rock. I’m now draped over the beautiful rock face cliff like a little goldendoodle who just played for hours at the dog park. My floppy curly ears frazzled, ego floating in the cold river below and my fear a blazin’.
I was so nervous to meet Nick. It took me hours to get ready. I was super insecure about my body. I thought my breasts were too small. I thought my hair was ugly. I hated my hands and my big toes. I wanted to cover everything up with make-up, a tight fitted dress and a long fitted coat. I even wore a hat and a wig to cover my short curly hair. I tried everything to appear older than a 15 year old teenage girl.
I’m feeling the way I always do when I’m out and about doing drugs and drinking alcohol. I’m swaying back and forth. I’m feeling awkward because that last line of cocaine I did is starting to wear off and there’s no more alcohol in the house. “I need something,” I think to myself. Where the fuck is that guy with more coke? He said he’d be back soon with more drugs. My heart is beating with the music, fast and upbeat. I look around the party and there’s all sorts of colorful people. There’s a girl with red hair, a black guy with no lenses in his glasses, and a tall skinny awkward guy trying to dance. I’m trying to enjoy myself, like I always do, but something doesn’t feel right. I feel this gnawing in my stomach. I need more drugs. That’s it, I just need more drugs. Where the fuck is that guy with the drugs?
My breath quickened. I couldn’t get any words to come out of my mouth. I kept glancing around the road hoping to see a familiar face, but nothing felt familiar anymore. The only thing that felt familiar was my fear. My fear that this man was going to attack me. I cursed my carefree attitude that drove me to get into this strangers car with no makeup, no bra, a full beer in my belly and pants he could easily rip in half if he wanted to.
My vision shrinks to the size of a pinhole. The sound that comes after sounds like a muffled horn. I can’t feel my body, time slows down; it’s almost as if time doesn’t exist. I'm standing on an empty highway, the air is thick with dew and fog, red and blue lights flashing in my peripheral. In front of me there are two mangled cars. I'm surrounded by police officers; I can't hear anything anyone’s saying. All I can feel is my heart thumping in my chest, filling my ears with such loud thuds it's almost nauseating. I feel condensation start to form on my palms from all the anxiety filling my chest.
I want to start off by saying that I can't stop crying. I did it. I'm 30 years old. I've had a baby, I've finally figured out why I've been using drugs and treating myself and others the way I have for the past 15 years, and I faced the moment in my life that changed everything. I had been refusing to think about, talk about or relive it since it happened.
Drugged, Raped and Blamed Is the Name of the Game.
This was the night I lost my childlike view of the world. This is the night I lost faith in others. This is what sparked my hatred for men. This is the night I first tried "alcohol" and this is the night I lost my virginity. This is where my mess all began. So if my mess is my message, then this is where my purpose lives.
You know what's fucked up? I think about this. I think about this situation everytime I’m sober and alone. When there is nowhere left for me to hide; I am here. I am pressed up against the chain link fence, bra exposed, jeans pulled down around my ankles and consciousness fading in and out. This is where I live when I’m alone. My mind takes me back to that day. My body follows and my sense of self starts to disappear.
So I’m embarking on a journey of self realizing shit. I ordered Mastin Kipp’s “Claim Your Power: A 40-Day Journey to Dissolve the Hidden Blocks That Keep You Stuck and Finally Thrive in Your Life’s Unique Purpose”. It’s basically a 40 day self discovery class. I’m only on day 8 and a big part of what he talks about is how our past traumas are the things that get in our way of truly living our purpose. “Hell yeah”, I thought to myself. I definitely have some past shit that has defined who I am today. As I’m working through the pages of Mastin Kipp’s book I start to see. I start to see how much pain I’ve been living in. I start to see where it all began. It’s becoming so clear. It’s wild, why haven’t I sat down and dealt with any of this? Maybe because I always felt that it was too painful to revisit? Oh, I almost forgot, I’ve been drunk ever since.
Something happened to me the other day. Something clicked. I felt release. I released something that has been holding me down. I realize me stressing about it and worrying about it was giving it power. I was letting it win; win my life. I want to take my life back. I'm in control of my life. I'm in control of my thoughts. I'm in control of how I react in certain situations and I get to decide what makes me happy.
