My Word

I made the decision to stop working as an entertainer at a gentlemen’s club, largely because of the ownership and entitlement many men felt they had over women. Boundaries were crossed constantly, and it took a toll on me—emotionally and mentally. What made it so difficult to walk away was the financial stability I had created for myself. I was doing really well, and unfortunately, that success came with a price. There’s often a noticeable shift in how some men treat a woman once they realize she’s earning more than them—especially in that environment.

In that industry, if you’re not willing to flatter the right people or “kiss the right ass,” you’re easily overlooked, disrespected, or pushed out. I chose my self-respect over survival in a system that never truly valued me.

I transitioned into modeling because I believed it could sustain me financially in a similar way to my previous work—but it’s an entirely different world. I’ve been working a lot of gigs, and once again, with that work comes a cost.

One of the hardest parts is the constant presence of predators—people who look for any opportunity to overstep boundaries and get away with it. Just recently, during a shoot, I was nude climbing a hill, and the cameraman was immediately behind me, ready to take candid shots without warning or consent. This has happened so many times. It’s disgusting how some photographers wait for these vulnerable moments, angling their lens to capture something I would never consent to share.

I’ve learned to bring fabric to shoots—not just as a prop, but to protect myself. I use it to cover up when walking uphill or repositioning so no one gets a “candid” shot of my most private areas. It shouldn’t be this way, but this is how I’ve had to protect myself.

On another shoot, the photographer brushed past me and touched my butt. It could be written off as an accident, but we both know what that was. These moments add up, and they are not okay.

Let me be clear: just because I’m standing there nude for the sake of art does not give anyone the right to violate my boundaries. Consent doesn’t disappear just because I’m vulnerable or exposed. I am here because I believe in art and creative collaboration. And when I work with respectful, professional artists, I thrive—we create beautiful things together. There’s a short list of those people, and they know who they are. I wish more were like them.

It’s unfortunate I even have to say this, but it matters: no woman wants unsolicited, intimate candids taken of her body—especially when she’s not ready or aware, and especially when the lens is aimed directly at her lower half. That’s not art. That’s exploitation.

Yes, I’m grateful for the money I make. But I also have the right to speak up about the experiences I endure to earn it. If you behave disrespectfully around me, I will talk about it. I will protect my name, my body, and my truth.