Some days I feel electric. Other days I disappear into myself. I don’t always know which version of me is real — and I’m starting to accept that maybe all of them are.

They want my body. They don’t want my voice.

They’ll watch the content, crave the curves, praise the pictures—then flinch the second I speak up.

But here’s the truth: I’m not here to be quiet. I’m not here to be polite. I’m not here to be yours.

This blog is for the women who have been looked at but never listened to.

For the ones who turned their image into power—and dared to keep their mouths open.

Someone said I’d never become a prosecutor because of my OnlyFans. That comment hurt—but it didn’t break me. In this blog, I open up about the hate I’ve received, how I handle it, and why judgment doesn’t define my worth, my ambition, or my future.

The first time I joined OnlyFans, I was young, naive, and blindly optimistic. It left me feeling burned out and broken. But this time? I came back with purpose, power, and boundaries. This isn’t just about money—it’s about reclaiming what once consumed me and proving I’m capable of doing it right.

I always thought I was straight—until I wasn’t. Or maybe I was. All I know is, girlhood got complicated when friendship started to feel like something more. In this deeply personal reflection, I open up about early intimacy, queer curiosity, and the labels that never quite fit. From my first relationship with a girl named Autumn to later connections built on both love and confusion, this is a story about fluidity, exploration, and owning your truth—whatever that looks like today.

I pride myself on always catching mistakes before they happen—until I don’t. And when I slip, even just a little, my brain launches a full internal breakdown. This blog is for the perfectionists, the overthinkers, the ones who mentally punish themselves for the smallest misstep. If embarrassment feels like a personal apocalypse… same.

I’ve spent most of my life tying my self-worth to how much I get done. Productivity gave me confidence—but also guilt, burnout, and fear. In this post, I unpack where that mindset came from, what it’s cost me, and how I’m slowly learning that I’m still worthy… even when I rest.

I tried to open myself up. I even made a friendship application. But men keep reminding me why I stay distant. Why I don’t trust. Why survival mode still feels safer than connection. This isn’t about bitterness. It’s about boundaries—and I’m done pretending.

I used to chase men like they were the last Uber out of hell—until they liked me back. Then I’d emotionally block them, disappear, or redirect that energy into work. Maybe it’s intimacy issues. Maybe it’s delusion. Either way, I’m healing. Slowly. Loudly. Hilariously.

Low-effort men don’t just waste your time—they chip away at your confidence. This blog unpacks the reality of being pursued for your image while your soul is ignored. It’s for every woman who’s ever been ghosted, gaslit, or glamorized by someone who only wanted the baddie, not the brain.

Blogging didn’t just give me a platform—it gave me power. In this personal essay, I reflect on how starting Raw Reflections helped me rediscover my voice, reclaim my identity, and build something no one can take from me.

From murder trials to media empires, these are the shows I keep rewatching when I need comfort, clarity, or a little controlled chaos. Here’s what my emotional support shows say about me—and probably about you, too.

I used to post for male attention—and I’m not ashamed to admit that. But over time, I realized the validation I was chasing didn’t equal respect, safety, or self-worth. This is the story of how I stopped performing and started posting for me.

I don’t romanticize the future because I hate the present. I do it because my imagination saved me. Because hope kept me going. And because I know I’m meant to build a life that feels nothing like the one I had to survive.