He wasn’t confused. He wasn’t “just a kid.” Jamie Miller killed Katie because she said no—and Adolescence makes one thing painfully clear: boys are being taught that rejection is a reason to destroy. In this post, I don’t hold back. This is about misogyny, male entitlement, and the girls who die because society keeps protecting fragile men.

Roe v. Wade was never just about abortion—it was about freedom. The right to choose what happens to your body. And now, we’re watching that right disappear. I’m not asking nicely. I’m not apologizing. If it’s in my body, it’s my choice. Period.

Forgiveness is not proof of healing—it’s a choice, and not one survivors owe to anyone. Trauma doesn’t disappear just because society is more comfortable when victims are quiet, forgiving, and palatable. Sometimes survivors are angry. Sometimes they don’t forgive. And that’s okay. Healing looks different for everyone. This piece is for the ones who are still carrying it, and still choosing themselves.

April isn’t just another month—it’s Sexual Assault Awareness Month (SAAM), a time to confront the pervasive issue of sexual violence head-on. This year, under the theme “Together We Act, United We Change”, we’re reminded of the power of collective action in preventing sexual abuse, assault, and harassment. In this post, I delve into the significance of SAAM, spotlight the critical TAKE IT DOWN Act, and share personal reflections on why this fight is deeply personal. Join me as we navigate the path from awareness to action, because together, our voices can drive the change we desperately need.

Misogyny isn’t new—but the internet has weaponized it. In this raw, confrontational post, I explore how incel culture has evolved from bitterness to full-blown extremism, fueled by men like Andrew Tate and followed by cowards who hate women for saying no. This isn’t just a trend. It’s a movement built on violence, entitlement, and ego. And I’m here to burn it all down.

Women are told to be sexy—but not for themselves. To be seen—but only in a way that’s palatable. In this post, I dive into the feminine double bind: the toxic, exhausting contradiction of being hypersexualized, then shamed for it. This one’s real, raw, and deeply personal.

I used to think male pain wasn’t my problem. But the truth is, men are dying in silence—and we’ve all been complicit in ignoring it. This is my rawest reflection yet: an apology, an awakening, and a plea for change.

Male loneliness is real—but blaming women for it isn’t just delusional, it’s dangerous. In this piece, I break down what men can actually do to be better allies, why incel culture is a threat, and why real masculinity starts with emotional accountability.

A villain era isn’t about turning cold—it’s about turning inward.

It’s the moment you stop shrinking to survive and start rising to live. In this piece, I share how I entered mine: not out of hate, but out of healing. With help from Shakespeare, psychology, and a little Emily Thorne shade, this is my story of becoming the most dangerous thing a woman can be—free.

It’s been weeks since I finished Dexter—and I’m still angry. Not because it was bad, but because it was tragic in the quietest, most haunting way. Dexter didn’t vanish to protect the people he loved. He vanished because he couldn’t forgive himself. This post dives into the heartbreak of the finale, his relationship with Hannah, and why exile was never survival—it was punishment.

Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby (2013) isn’t just a film—it’s a fever dream. Drenched in gold, pulsing with modern music, and soaked in longing, it reimagines the Roaring Twenties as a chaotic masterpiece of love, delusion, and desire. This post explores the brilliance of its aesthetic, the emotional power of its soundtrack, and why Gatsby’s dream still hits hard in a world built on illusions.

I’m a real football fan—and that’s exactly why I’m writing this.

The NFL has protected abusers for far too long. From Deshaun Watson to Ray Rice, time and time again, the league has allowed violence against women to go unpunished.

This article breaks down the disturbing pattern, the players involved, and the real accountability the NFL refuses to enforce.

It’s time to stop pretending this league stands for anything.

Lady Macbeth isn’t a villain—she’s a woman punished for wanting what men are praised for: power, control, legacy, and respect. Her story isn’t about evil. It’s about erasure.

In this long-form piece, we reclaim Lady Macbeth as a feminist icon—exploring her ambition, her downfall, and why she still matters today.

Succession isn’t just about rich people—it’s about emotionally stunted heirs trying to inherit power they were never emotionally equipped to hold. It’s a modern Shakespearean tragedy disguised as an HBO drama, where every move is strategic, every relationship transactional, and every child quietly screaming for their father’s love.

The show’s brilliance isn’t in the business battles—it’s in the emotional warfare. These aren’t serious people. They’re broken people. And in the end, that’s what makes Succession so powerful. This blog breaks down its Shakespearean core, its tragic characters, the lessons each one left behind, and why the ending was exactly what it needed to be.

Survivors don’t stay silent because they’re weak. They stay silent because they’ve seen what happens when others speak up. They’ve seen the questions, the gaslighting, the disbelief. The truth is—we don’t need more courage. We need a system that deserves our trust.

We love stories of survival—but only when they end in strength. Nobody wants to talk about the in-between. The days when you’re still grieving something you ‘should be over,’ still angry about things the world expects you to forgive. Survivor’s guilt is quiet, but it cuts deep. It’s the weight of being alive when others didn’t make it. It’s the pressure to inspire when you’re still hurting. Healing isn’t always beautiful. Sometimes it’s just breathing through the ache and trying again tomorrow.

At first, OnlyFans felt like freedom. I was making money, building a brand, and living the lifestyle I thought I always wanted. But behind the filters and the flawless posts, I was unraveling. The pressure, the harassment, the constant demand to be perfect—it broke me. What started as a path to independence became a harsh lesson in exploitation, mental burnout, and the darker sides of male entitlement.

This post isn’t just about leaving OnlyFans—it’s about rediscovering myself, reclaiming my voice, and choosing purpose over performance.

OnlyFans gave me fast money, control, and a confidence I never expected—but it also took pieces of me I didn’t realize I was giving away. I started as a creator chasing freedom, but somewhere along the way, I became a product. The burnout, the harassment, the loss of privacy—it all piled up until staying felt like survival, not success. This isn’t a story of shame. It’s a story of growth, of choosing peace over profit, and reclaiming the parts of myself I nearly lost.

The internet gave me freedom—but it also showed me its darkest corners. Behind every platform’s promise of empowerment is a system that profits from silence, objectification, and exploitation. I’ve seen how quickly admiration turns into entitlement, how easily women become targets, and how little protection we’re offered in return. This piece isn’t just about my story—it’s about the systems that fail us, the laws that fall short, and why I refuse to stay silent anymore.

Rape culture isn’t just about rape—it’s about the silence, the excuses, and the systems that protect predators while blaming victims. As a woman with a 96% male audience, I’m not here to sugarcoat it. You might not be the problem—but you are part of the culture. And that means you have a responsibility.

This post isn’t just another statistic drop. It’s a call to action: to confront what we’ve normalized, to believe survivors, and to change the narrative—starting with ourselves.

Read the full post to understand the reality, the numbers, the myths, and the role we all play in either dismantling or sustaining rape culture.