Why I Stepped Back

I’ve been sitting with this for a long time. Not because I don’t have anything to say, but because the honest answer to the question I keep getting about when I’ll start again is well…

 It’s complicated.

The simplest truth is this: IDK

For a long time, sessions were a central part of my life. I was seeing clients almost twice a week while also maintaining a full-time job and trying to show up as a whole human everywhere else. Even before that I would do sessions at least twice a month since 2022. And more than 3 times a week before than since 2020 when I lost my job during COVID and was actually doing it for a living. 

I hope it looked like I was handling it. Underneath, things were starting to fray. As the goddess I can pretend to be, it pains me to admit, I am human.  

I loved the work. I still do. The creativity, the power exchange, the intimacy built on trust and intention — ugh the rushhhhh. Some of the sessions I created were creative and hot. And I loved the more playful ones. Even more meaningful were the bonds I formed with certain submissives. Those connections were real and I expect many of them will continue to endure in some form. I don’t regret anything.

But alongside that joy, there was a slow accumulation of things I couldn’t ignore anymore.

My mental health took hits I didn’t fully acknowledge. I gained weight. I lost a few subs for different reasons I had maintained relationships with for YEARS and never stopped to question if it was me, which I regret. My drinking crept into territory that concerned me. I stopped sleeping well, sometimes not at all, and began sleepwalking (in a scary way). The sense of being constantly “on” never really shut off. 

And then there were the safety issues.

I’ve always taken screening seriously. I believed that due diligence and intuition are essential parts of this work. But toward the end, I can admit that I became more lax than I should have been. It was burnout I think and cracks formed.

I dealt with stalkers, both online and in person. I experienced two sessions that turned violent. In another instance, I was threatened with a gun. As a disclaimer, I don’t do hard drugs and have strict tolerance for them in sessions, and typically can see the symptoms in a person if they're under any influence. But I missed the signs in someone and they passed out mid-session and had to call 911. The only time your parent should meet me is on Cher’s 9th Farewell tour and NEVER in the hospital because their kinky son is also an addict. There’s a narrative that says this is simply what comes with the territory, that sex workers should expect danger as a given. I reject that framing, even while acknowledging the reality of risk. No amount of professionalism or preparation makes someone deserving of harm. That all forced me to confront how much I was just going with it because I felt an obligation. 

I guess in short, I stopped because something in me knew I needed to. And I had just got a huge career jump opportunity AND my lease was up in the “dungeon” so the timing was good. 

Right now, my focus is elsewhere. I’m exploring interests outside of kink, navigating a career shift, and tending to parts of myself that were neglected for too long. That work feels more urgent than anything else at the moment. 

And fyi, my career is heavy. My non-kink work involves managing intense personalities (mine included), impossible expectations that I somehow exceed (cause damn right), and the emotional fallout of our systems that don’t work (fuck ICE and Trump, especially) — doubling down in latex is too ambitious even for me and is just hard to imagine right now, frankly.

This is not me erasing the past, disavowing the connections I’ve made, or being embarrassed. I am committed to staying in communication with my current submissives and finding my way back to a sense of groundedness with those relationships. That process matters deeply to me. At the same time, I don’t anticipate taking on any new prospects while I’m in this space of reflection. I’m not available for sessions, and I’m not rushing myself toward a return before I’m ready, if I decide to return at all.

For those who are curious or interested, my older content remains available, and I’m open to conversation. Curiosity doesn’t need to disappear just because access changes.

What I’m asking for, above all, is grace.

Grace while I figure out if and when I want to reemerge. Grace while I decide what would need to be different (structurally, emotionally, and practically)  for this to be sustainable and safe for me. 

This isn’t an ending I fully understand yet. It’s a pause… maybe the start of something new.

When I know more, I’ll say more. Until then, consider this the point in the session when I tie you up helplessly, blindfold you, exit the room, and you must wait for my return. And the anticipation of what I must be up to. Delicious. 

xoxo,

Gossip Girl