I’m Making a Choice: Introduction to the Camming Days


My dearest loves, I’ve chosen to share with you one of the darkest times of my life: The years from fourteen to sixteen. Those were the years I spent stripping online. However, seeing as this will involve mature content, I’ve chosen to create another blog that will act as my place for mature/sexual topics.

(Note: I’m seventeen, and will be creating an 18+ blog. Am I the only one laughing a bit?)

Seeing as not everyone will WANT to head over to the 18+ blog, I’ll just make sure everyone knows that reading it will NOT be necessary to follow the posts I write here. In fact, the only real relationship the two blogs will have is that they will OCCASIONALLY reference each other.

As I said on Half-Mad Submissive’s Musings, the blog is by no means the work of an expert; meant to offend; or to be hated upon. It is simply the dirtier part of my brain, and nothing more.

Honestly, I’m not sure entirely WHY I’m sharing all of this with you. It will be painful for me to relay some of the stories, and I don’t expect/desire views and comments. It’s just something for me to do to fill up the time, and maybe to keep as a record of my life.

Also, seeing as there’s a chance people who know me in real life will see this post, do whatever you desire.

Just don’t make any trouble for me, please; I’m unashamed of my past, and I would request that my past is not used to judge me today. I know I made mistakes.

I screwed up, in thousands of ways. I know this.

Do not make me regret my honesty.


Pride vs Self-Loathing: Why I Need to Lose Weight


Let’s face it, I’m screwed up. I was bullied all my childhood, manipulated into stripping on cam from the ages of fourteen to sixteen, my mind separated into what could almost have been called Dissociative Identity Disorder, and I even dealt with a mild form of PTSD. I wanted to kill myself three times, each time getting very close to actually attempting it.

I’m massively screwed up. Even to this day, I have a hard time speaking up in person about anything personal–and, the only time I do, it’s pretty much only with someone I’ve known forever. In school, I’m lucky if I raise my hand willingly once a week. I’m that shy.

So, what I need to do is make myself better. I need to turn myself into someone who, even though I’ll probably never get past the whole I’m-more-interesting-to-talk-to-than-everyone-else stage of my mentality, will be brave enough to actually be less of a wallflower. I’m tired of fading into the background, and feeling like air.

I need to get more confident, so the only way I can think of is positive affirmations–with my healthier lifestyle. I’ll feel a lot better when I am no longer living with a Body Mass Index (BMI) of…insert a number here that sits pretty solidly in the ‘obese’ range, not just overweight. When I get down to my goal weight of 150, I will be able to look back at myself and realize just how much I accomplished.

That, darlings, will be 50 pounds lost.

Once I get down to 150, I might even go further–whatever it takes to love myself again.

I really don’t love myself, which is…not good in a relationship. You can’t love someone else unless you love yourself, as the saying goes. I still see, all too well, the amount of times I’ve failed–and the realization that I weigh so very much is not something that helped me like me.

I have to admit that I feel better about myself now that I’ve lost weight, though–the fact that I’m changing is certainly helping me feel better.

I just wish that I could go back in time, and shake myself. Stop myself from ever getting this far–both in weight, and in emotions. I want to genuinely trust myself again, and have faith I won’t get too far. I haven’t felt that I can trust myself in a very long time.

A part of me wishes I could go back, and stop myself from being abused. So I wouldn’t deal with intimacy issues, fear, and a need to be abused. So I wouldn’t deal with feeling like I was nothing unless I was lusted after.

The rest of me?

It’s glad I got the kick in the pants I needed to be awake, and more aware of myself. It’s glad I’ve got the anger to fuel my self-improvement, as well as a deep need for change. It’s glad I got the ability to mature and improve, from making so large a mistake.

Still, that doesn’t mean I’m secure in myself. I NEED to feel needed, quite a bit. I don’t feel well unless I’m loved.

Maybe one day I’ll get past it?


One day, I WILL get past it.

One day, I will be both proud of, and love, myself.