Outgrowing the Hustle: Why I’m Finally Done With OnlyFans

By Trinity Barnette

I’ve written before about leaving OnlyFans—and then about returning. At the time, I framed it as reclaiming my body, my power, my control. But now that I’ve tried again with a clearer head, I can finally admit: that era is over for me. Not because I failed. Not because I couldn’t make it work. But because I’ve matured out of it entirely.

I thought I could handle it differently this time. With firmer boundaries, a smaller audience, a better headspace. But that platform requires more than content—it requires emotional labor. It invites entitlement. It chips away at your peace in small, consistent ways. And I’m not in a place where I’m willing to sell off slivers of myself anymore. I’ve done the survival work. I’ve done the justifying. I’ve done the mental gymnastics to make it make sense. But at the end of the day, it just doesn’t align with who I am or who I’m becoming.

The Comeback That Wasn’t

Returning to OF was a choice I made with full awareness. I wanted to reclaim the narrative. I wanted to see if I could use it differently—less exposure, more control, better energy. But even with all that in place, something still didn’t sit right.

It actually took me two tries to fully accept that I’m just not that girl. And that’s okay. I’ve officially come to the conclusion that I want to be successful and known for something other than selling my body. Not that there’s anything wrong with it—for some women, it’s empowering and liberating. But it’s simply not my vibe anymore. It was fun while it lasted. It got me through a time in my life when I needed it. But I’m ready to leave that chapter behind.

I’m a Content Creator, Not an Adult Entertainer

I’m in my content creator era now. And I don’t mean that in a superficial, influencer-y way—I mean it with intention. I write. I model. I build. I reflect. I share. And all of that takes energy and presence. The kind of content I want to make is rooted in creativity, depth, and truth.

OnlyFans just doesn’t fit into that vision. I know people defend it by saying it gives women control, and I respect that. But to me, the platform feels like a trap. It disguises objectification as empowerment and asks women to participate in their own exploitation under the guise of agency.

I can’t explain it any other way than this: it goes against everything I believe in. And I’m done trying to twist my values to justify staying.

Leaving Without a Statement

I’m not issuing a public goodbye. I’m not doing a “last call” or making a spectacle out of my exit. I’m just letting it go.

Quietly, fully, and without regret.

What I Choose Now

Peace. Privacy. Purpose.

I’ve built something I’m proud of—Raw Reflections, this platform, this voice. And the energy I used to pour into OF? It now belongs to the version of me that doesn’t owe anyone access to her body to be seen, heard, or valued.

I’m also working with brands and building partnerships that don’t align with adult content—and I want to protect the image I’ve worked so hard to create. I’ve evolved past that chapter. And I’m not interested in complicating my reputation or watering down my message for money.

I want to be taken seriously. I want my voice to lead—not my body.

That’s the future I’m choosing.