I Took Off More Than Just My Mask This New Year, 2025

(And You’ll Want to See Why)

On January 1st, 2025, I wrote a single sentence in my notebook. Just one.

"Today, I begin again."

It wasn’t some sparkly ‘new year, new me’ mantra. It wasn’t whispered over cheap champagne with glitter on my cheekbones… (Okay, fine. It was. But only a little glitter. And it was expensive champagne—or at least mid-range.)

No.

It was a guttural fck it*—a blood-pumping, veil-tearing, skin-tingling beginning. A moment where I stopped waiting for the ‘right time’ to be heard, seen, and felt.

This wasn’t about playing small. This wasn’t about being polite or pretty or waiting in line for permission to exist boldly.

It was about raw, exposed connection.

About dropping the nice girl act and stepping into the room chest-first, voice loud, eyes steady.

It was about writing the stories some women in this world aren’t even allowed to think about, let alone type out loud. Because society loves us in soft pastels, with our mouths zipped shut and our edges sanded down. But here? Here, I’m jagged. I’m loud. I’m real.

That sentence—“Today, I begin again”—marked the moment I stopped apologizing for taking up space, for the size of my voice, for the hunger in my words.

How do you like my New Year's dress? Don’t answer too quickly. Look closer. Find the glitters.

Let’s Get Intimate… With My Stats

Intimacy isn’t just about sex. It isn’t just candlelight and tangled sheets.

It’s about connection.
It’s about being seen.
It’s about being heard.
It’s about being understood.
And maybe—just maybe—being loved.

It’s showing up messy, unfiltered, and unscripted.

It’s about holding space for stories to spill, for truths to crack open, for silence to settle without fear.

It’s about building a community where vulnerability isn’t something to apologize for—it’s something to celebrate.

Where your voice doesn’t just echo—it roars.

Over the past year, The Art of Intimacy has grown:

• 985 subscribers.

• A 30% open rate—roughly 300 people who sit down with my words every time I hit send. (Honestly, sometimes I imagine us in a dimly lit auditorium. You, me, and a thousand unspoken thoughts waiting to unravel.)

• 25 paid subscribers—the VIPs. The ones I pull into a private room. And no, not for group sex (been there, regretted that), but for tea. Or maybe wine. Definitely conversation—the good kind. The kind where masks fall and we really see each other. These are my people. The ones I want to grow with, inspire, and keep showing up for.

The Articles You Loved Most:

• "Why Are 91% of My Readers Male?"

• "What Her Bikini Line Says About Her"

• "Why Do I Write?"

• "The Photoshoot That Brought Confidence Back Into My Life"

• "How I Became a Slave of Medium"

Apparently, sex education hits. Vulnerability hits. And let’s not lie—a sensual picture sprinkled here and there? It definitely hits.

(And if you’ve scrolled this far, good news: there’s an unexpected photo waiting for those who dare to upgrade. Not a nude. But… close enough to make you glad you stayed.)

Because words connect, but vulnerability—whether in a sentence or a knowing gaze—has a magnetic pull.

Here’s to 2025—Raw. Roaring. Unapologetic.

This year, I invite you to join me in all things intimacy:

• Stories about your body—your penis, your vagina, and everything in between.

• Stories about your heart—the crying, the longing, the joy.

• And let’s not forget God in this. My pillar. Because yes, we can be deeply spiritual (not religious) and still be unapologetically sultry. We can hold divinity in one hand and desire in the other.

Every moment is a chance to begin again.

And here I am.

"Today, I begin again."

P.S.: A special gift awaits paid members below.

(A little skin for thought)