Leaving Portland, ISO Authentic Relating
A Year of Transformation
A lot has been coming up for me recently.
It’s been nearly a year since I set out from my small hometown with the intention of creating space for a new self—and while I’ve grown substantially since that panicked exodus, in some ways I’m right back where I started.
When I first arrived in Portland, I was wounded and looking for community—specifically, a safe haven for this new, emotionally raw version of myself who was grappling with authenticity for the first time.
Self portrait, Dec. 17 2024. Original caption: “What to do, when you reexamine something and realize you’ve NEVER seen it clearly?”
Kink had given me the gift of vulnerability, and I expected all kinky spaces to be just as open and expressive as those I was first exposed to. I expected scenes that were playful, generous, and grounded in connection. I expected invitation.
The spaces I found felt… different.
The Problem of Performativity in the Kink Scene
I’ve noticed something toxic in the Portland kink scene: performativity—the subconscious use of actions to produce a desired identity from the top down.
People build shells of dominance with little substance beneath, often to protect insecurities or disguise predatory behavior. Practices that should stem from trust and mutual care become opportunities to uphold community image.The line between role-play and real life blurs, and bad actors slip through unvetted, protected by the shine of their disguise.
I was swept up in this cultural undercurrent almost immediately. When I first started working, I was marketing myself as a ProDomme. Clients and community members began projecting expertise onto me that I didn’t yet possess, and I felt compelled to play a role that reflected neither my motivations nor my personal needs.
Feb. 4, 2025. This is an aspect of me, but this is also a projection. I can’t decide if it’s aspirational, or a reflection of my desire…
Clients sought experiences that focused on my packaging rather than the content I was trying to deliver. Professionals were suspicious of my intentions and guarded their friendship, as if I was after a cut of their business.Community members saw me as my job marketing—either assuming I was off-limits or else seeking unpaid and unreciprocated play, with no intention or interest in a personal connection.
Working as a BDSM professional isolated me from the very thing I loved and had come to Portland to explore.
People assigned me a certain personhood based on how they interpreted my presentation. It created a dilemma: Do I lean into how they see me—risking exposure and self-betrayal—or do I resist and risk losing business, reputation, and access to communities that mean so much to me?
Shifting from Kink to Tantra
Ultimately, I chose to alter people’s expectations rather than myself.
When I shifted my practice toward a more tantric audience, things started to click. As I’ve written about previously, tantra is simply another path to the same psychological destination—the softer, more sensual side of kink’s intensity. Both aim for personal transcendence: unmasking, authentic connection, embodied freedom.
Although the essence of my work didn’t shift at all, people understood this new spiritual packaging far better. I began working with people who wanted to explore deeper.
Ironically, I was able to engage more authentically with edgy BDSM techniques once I removed all the edginess from my outward presentation. Weaving needles through legs was fun, when I felt allowed to laugh!
May 31, 2025. Softer photos for a softer edge.
My income definitely shrank when I strayed from the archetypical provider and promoted emotional growth as my primary offering. Not everyone is ready for this kind of work, and I’ve accepted that. I’ve also accepted that I can’t turn it off. It would be unfair to market the experience I offer as surface-level or easy. The way I relate to people is intimate, embodied, and deeply emotional—and that isn’t what everyone is looking for.
As money becomes tighter, I’ve tried to do more typical work and stick to short, accessible sessions. They make me feel hollow. I just can’t separate myself enough from what I do to make it sustainable. Connection matters. But I will never force it on someone not seeking that depth.
All of this is why my time in Portland is coming to an end.
I’m once again on the hunt for community rooted in authentic relating—where I can live without pressure to be anyone other than the sensual, joyful, curious person I am. I’ll keep role-playing; it’s fun to slip into new skins sometimes.
But I want to live most of my life unmasked.
Key Ideas: Eros, Identity, and Authentic Connection
My goal from the beginning has been to help clients explore their eros with curiosity and care—to build relationships that are sustainable and real, and to facilitate experiences similar to those that helped me overcome my own barriers.
Here are a few ideas that are beginning to develop as I exit this cycle of my life:
1. Kink Without the Costume
I’ve grown critical of the gap between identity and aesthetic.
The aesthetic once drew me in; it was alluring. But it also misled me. I fell for the packaging of kink, and in doing so, I became vulnerable to people who took advantage of an identity I was still trying on—one I hadn’t yet grown into or fully understood.
2. The Divide Between Person, Participant, and Professional
Ideally, participation (action) stems from personal experience and curiosity, and expertise evolves naturally from that—producing a fully integrated being.
But too often, especially in workshops, dungeons, or professional kink spaces, the process is inverted.
The Participant and/or the Professional develop independently from the Person, creating three separate masks that are difficult to access outside of context.
3. Creating Empty Space for the Self to Unfold
It’s essential to create a vacuum—a space where identity is allowed to unfold naturally, rather than being forced to fit existing frameworks.
Desire itself can become a way of shaping lived reality—of creating that vacuum for expansion and transformation.
What’s Next: Building a Space for Authentic Living
What I want now—for myself and the community I’ve come to know—is a space where people can build identity from the ground up.
Where experience comes before expertise.
Where we can live into our desires without being taken advantage of.
Where we can grow organically into self-expression.
As I look toward what’s next, I keep returning to the same idea: creating the space I’m seeking, for both myself and others like me.
I’ve found some potential collaborators, and together we’re imagining a place where people can live unmasked, without expectation—surrounded by others doing the same.
Most likely on a beach somewhere warm and sunny.
Experience is Calling. Stay Tuned.
