Why I finally started writing

For years, people have only ever seen fragments of my life, the snapshots that I have allowed them to see. Photos that are "on brand", content that resonates with my audience or a carefully written advert. It has always been planned and in many ways controlled.

But very few people ever hear the thinking behind it all. Yes I have written bios before and I have introduced parts of my life to my audience through my blogs on my websites but I have never really let me guard down. Until now.

Over the past few weeks, I published my first three essays on Substack. Not because I suddenly decided I had a story worth telling, but because I finally realised that none of this was for nothing.

Twenty years in this industry teaches you things and I think it's my duty to pass on that knowledge in the hope that it helps others.

Not just about men, desire, relationships or fantasy — but about shame, identity, loneliness, confidence, secrecy, ambition, discipline and human nature itself.

And the truth is, I have spent years watching people wrestle with themselves in silence or even openly with me after a session.

People talk about “the itch” as though it is something embarrassing or something that should be pushed away, But I have learned that our desires often point toward deeper truths about who we are.

Some people spend their lives running from that. Others learn to understand it.

This balancing act is what my first three essays are about.

Not confession. Not drama. Not shock value. Trust me, this isn't my Billie Piper, Secret Diaries of a Call Girl moment.

This is clarity.

The first three essays were uncomfortable to publish in many ways because they required vulnerability rather than performance. For a long time, I became very good at presenting polished versions of myself to the world. I now know writing strips that away and forces honesty. It forces you to sit with your own thoughts long enough to understand them before asking others to. And strangely, the more honestly I write, the more I realise these essays are not really about me at all. They are about what I have learned and they are written with the hope that they may just help someone.

My first three essays address the following...

The men who have sat across from me carrying guilt.

The people who never felt understood.

Desire, identity and acceptance.

Learning that wanting something different does not automatically make you broken.

I think many men are searching for permission.

Permission to stop pretending, to understand themselves and to accept parts of themselves they were taught to hide. If anything, I hope my writing gives them that!!!

Perhaps that is why writing this feels important.

Not because I have all the answers, but because experience has value when you choose to share it honestly.

The essays are only just beginning, but already I feel something shifting creatively.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I am building something with meaning attached to it and maybe that is the real reason I finally started writing.

Because none of this was for nothing.

You can read my first three essays here.