3 Months Ago, I Was Homeless. Then I Joined OnlyFans — And My Life Changed.

A notification pinged on my phone. 

“New subscriber.” 

It was the five-week anniversary of launching my journey as a cam model. I hadn’t posted that day.

I squealed to my partner, “I just got a new OF subscriber and I wasn’t even doing anything!”

That little pop-up gave me a strange, growing feeling in my stomach, something I’ve now started to recognize as pride. When you’ve spent your life being told you’re a failure and a burden, feeling pride is a radical thing.

But it wasn’t the surprise subscriber that made everything shift. 

“Just a lucky day,” I told myself. 

It was simple math that made me stop, just for a second, and actually believe this might be real. “You are in the top 18% of OnlyFans creators!” an email from the platform told me. I froze. I read it again. And then I told my partner, who was watching “Deadliest Catch” for maybe the hundredth time, but I could see he didn’t quite grasp what I was saying.

Honestly, neither did I. Because how could I, after 36 years of chaos, trauma, and systemic failure, possibly start to be … successful?

Just three months ago, I was homeless. My local council, which in the U.K. is responsible for housing, benefits and other community services, placed me in a condemned house with black mold, sewage backing into the bath, no stove and no hot water. The property was owned by a sketchy landlord with numerous fines, but the council told me that if I left before they rehoused me, I’d be classed as “intentionally homeless.” That meant that even if my children and I were forced to sleep on the streets, they would refuse to find us a home. I stayed.

I didn’t start camming back then. I couldn’t have. You need to be mentally solid to do this job. If you are, you can love it. But if you’re not, it can break you.

What changed was a small inheritance, from my grandmother ― the last of three close family members to die within three years. Her money allowed me to escape the hostel, pay six months upfront on a private rental, and start over in a quiet two bedroom with a little garden.

For the first time in a long time, I had privacy, safety and stability.

I was desperate for a way to work from home because of my agoraphobia. I was considering applying for a call center job even though I have a phobia of phone calls ― they make my skin crawl. I then asked myself: What’s really the difference between selling my energy to handle other people’s customer service rage over the phone, and selling something that’s mine, on my terms?

And then, almost without planning, I launched a business. I never watched a cam show before I started. I still don’t. But I quickly realized this job let me use everything I’ve survived to be successful.

I’ve always been a people pleaser. It was how I kept myself safe growing up. Now it’s one of my biggest strengths. I know people. I read them. And I care. 

Every day, I juggle tons of tasks. I’ve learned to use computer programs like OBS, Canva, and ClipChamp, as well as learning to use the different sites I perform on. I have learned design! I design, create, direct and moderate all my own shows, and I try hard to bring something unique to the board — like my “Sketch and Strip” art stream, which is very popular. Once I finish a stream, the work isn’t done — that just means it’s time to head to my OnlyFans and chat with my subscribers.

For most of my life, no one gave me the chance to use my brain in a way that was valued. But in this work, I get to be smart in lots of different ways — learning tech, building strategies, figuring out what my audience wants, and creating content that’s creative and meaningful. It’s a surprise gift that’s changed how I see myself. 

For years, my intelligence, creativity and resilience were buried by my need for survival. Due to my background of poverty and chaos, I lost out on education, on opportunity, on mental health support. I dropped out of my journalism course after my brother died at 30 — one of austerity’s early casualties. I carried shame and grief and labels no one deserved. Now I’m finally thriving and it’s all because of sex work.

I create typical cam content ― streaming, chatting, stripping, and I’ve gradually expanded into explicit content sometimes. It’s been tricky because I don’t have other model friends or anyone to ask for advice, so I’ve had to figure out pricing on my own, making mistakes along the way. I used to overcharge because I wasn’t quite ready to sell explicit content, but now I price accessibly and logically, growing at my own pace. 

I think a huge part of why I’m successful is because I only do things I enjoy. That keeps it fun and creative for me, but also attracts a loyal fan base. I’ve been experimenting with storytelling by making erotic fiction into videos and working on an interactive “choose your own date” system, where fans make choices that lead to different photos or videos. The stats tell me I’m on the right track. 

I chat a lot with my subscribers. I expected the people who purchase these services to be awful, but that’s not the full picture. I’ve met many kind, supportive people who want to make me feel good as much as I want to make them feel good. There’s community and even healing in this space.

I’ve always had to deny myself the pleasure of enjoying my femininity because of money and anxiety, but now I’m having beauty treatments I never had before. I got my nails done in a salon after biting them for years, and I felt so much more confident. I can finally put a little care into myself, and that feels amazing.