[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”8754″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_empty_space][vc_column_text]
I am the subject of a documentary that was released today to over two dozen streaming services: “A Wicked Eden.”
A WICKED EDEN is a look at the inner workings of the Femdom fetish world, focusing on Goddess Alexandra Snow as she trains new talent, Raevyn Rose, in the way and secrets of how to run a business based on kink successfully. This 96-minute documentary promises to be funny, smart, sexy, and a little bit wicked.
I’ll be honest with you: this is one of the scariest things I’ve ever done in my life.
That’s because this documentary is about sex work, specifically the world of FemDom and fetish content creators and, well, a whole lot about my life that I’ve never shared in any public forum.
I am a sex worker. I have been for nearly two decades, and I am damn proud of what I do.
But I said yes because this is something I believe in: the voices of sex workers need to be heard. We are real people with real jobs, because sex work is real work. We desperately need to break down stigma and marginalization, and the only way we progress is by allowing people to see us as real people.
I said yes, because we need to talk more about sex, kink, and BDSM — and we need to talk about them honestly. Shame is toxic. Shame around sexuality and sexual expression causes so much harm to intimacy, autonomy, and self-worth. I’ve spent nearly two decades helping people explore their sexualities, work through traumas, and experience a reprieve from shame.
[/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space][fwp_borano_title title=”Vulnerability” link=”” tag=”h3″ title_pos=”text-center” absolute_center=”0″ separator=”1″ separator_pos=”separator” separator_m_bottom=”mb20″ title_color=”” extra_class=””][vc_column_text]
This documentary explores the complex world of femdom and fetish content creators, especially building a successful business in one of the most hostile sociopolitical landscapes. It includes dealing with fans and clients, gaining skills that no school can teach, navigating relationships, and ,most importantly– the uniqueness and solidarity of the community we’ve built. There are many interviews with my friends and colleagues, with sex therapists and fans and submissives. It’s incredibly sexy and funny, and uplifting.
And.. there’s a lot about my personal life in there. Truthfully, that was the hardest part.
When the project first started, I had carefully crafted answers for the interview questions, the same answers I’d given a dozen times to magazines and podcasts. How did I get started? What is it like to be worshipped by these men? What is dating like for me? What’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever been asked to do? (It’s still a video on having swallowed alien eggs from a gas station egg salad sandwich if you must know.)
There was a point in the interviews when the wall I’d built between my work persona and my authentic self began to break down. I stopped giving the rehearsed sound bites and started to open up. I began to realize that the only way for people to connect with me and people like me was to be vulnerable, honest, and raw. Vulnerability is challenging for most people, but it’s especially tough when you’ve spent 17 years as a Dominatrix. Not only does the media love to portray us as being broken little girls with Daddy issues, but they also love to paint BDSM as the result of trauma and abuse. The reality is that humans are complex creatures, and none of us get through life unscathed, so pretending otherwise was a life I didn’t want to lead anymore.
Or maybe it’s all the words of Brene Brown echoing in my head. Who knows?
[/vc_column_text][vc_single_image image=”8759″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_empty_space][fwp_borano_title title=”Why I said yes to being the subject of this documentary” link=”” tag=”h3″ title_pos=”text-center” absolute_center=”0″ separator=”1″ separator_pos=”separator” separator_m_bottom=”mb20″ title_color=”” extra_class=””][vc_column_text]
As a professional dominatrix and fetish porn producer, I’ve often been asked to share my story. I’ve been approached by other documentary companies, TV networks, and even reality TV shows. There are several reasons why I have often refused the opportunity.
The biggest reason is that documentaries about sex workers are seldom made with our voices. They are always made through a lens of sensationalism or pity, such as the 2015 Netflix Documentary Hot Girls Wanted. It never shows us with any agency, only as helpless victims waiting to be saved.
But when Naddine Madell, a Candian filmmaker, approached me about this project, I saw that she already had a portfolio of other work that championed female empowerment. So I took a leap with one condition: I would agree to do the film, but only if I had veto power over absolutely any scene, to ensure that our stories retained the right narrative I also refused to sign any of the legal documents until the rough cut was finished, to make damn sure I didn’t end up like the women interviewed by Louis Theroux.
She agreed.
What transpired next was 3 ½ whirlwind years of filming and gaining some of the most beautiful friendships with the production crew and with Naddine herself. She kept her word at every step and demonstrated incredible ethics and honesty throughout the process. I remain in awe of how each of these people has stood up for us and continue to fight for our voices.
[/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/2″][fwp_borano_title title=”The voices of sex workers need to be heard.” link=”” tag=”h3″ title_pos=”text-center” absolute_center=”0″ separator=”1″ separator_pos=”separator” separator_m_bottom=”mb20″ title_color=”” extra_class=””][vc_column_text]
Sex workers are stigmatized, criminalized, and marginalized to the point where they cannot be seen as experts on their own experiences.
But sex workers are leaders in the fight for sexual freedom. We are the shock troops of feminism, demanding that our voices be heard and our rights respected.
Sex workers have long been considered either victims or criminals, and modern media likes to turn us into circus animals for their amusement. They portray us as something to be pitied or saved, or as degenerates who do not belong with the rest of polite society.
The reality is the majority of sex workers, whether online or in-person, are people who have chosen their profession because they find it lucrative, fulfilling, and rewarding. Many of us are college-educated, run successful businesses, maintain happy relationships with our friends and family, pay our taxes, and are upstanding citizens. We are normal people, like you. (Ok maybe normal is a stretch!)
[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_single_image image=”8752″ img_size=”large” add_caption=”yes” alignment=”center” style=”vc_box_rounded” css=”.vc_custom_1670026657691{border-radius: 1px !important;}”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]
Do things like abuse and exploitation happen in the adult industry? Of course, it does. But it doesn’t happen at any higher rates than any other industry. In fact, more exploitation happens in the hospitality industry than anywhere else. As someone who was exploited early in my career by my ex-husband, this stuff happens because society does not empower sex workers with agency and autonomy. In the years after escaping my own hell, I sought to change that by being the person I wish I had when I first began.
I want to show the world that sex workers come from all walks of life — there isn’t just one type of person involved in this industry any more than there is one type of client or fan who seeks our services and content.
I wanted to follow in the footsteps of Carol Leigh, who coined the term sex work, and who spent their life fighting for us.
[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_single_image image=”8763″ img_size=”large” add_caption=”yes” alignment=”center” style=”vc_box_rounded” css=”.vc_custom_1670026933621{border-radius: 1px !important;}”][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/2″][fwp_borano_title title=”The filming itself!” link=”” tag=”h3″ title_pos=”text-center” absolute_center=”0″ separator=”1″ separator_pos=”separator” separator_m_bottom=”mb20″ title_color=”” extra_class=””][vc_column_text]
The process of being filmed by a documentary crew can be grueling, even for someone like me who is quite used to being on camera. Hours upon hours of set up for one interview, numerous locations, 2 countries, and 6 different trips. They filmed hundreds of hours of footage to get the tiny little snippets you see in the film.
It felt like every last inch of my life was on film for those trips, and in some of the interviews, I was sick with the flu or so exhausted I couldn’t string words together. We did some cities back to back, with long flights and multiple road trips. It was a great deal of trust to place my story in the hands of these people, but they handled it with beauty and care.
At the time filming had begun, I had recently hired Daddy Des, and the experience of each trip definitely solidified our dynamic partnership even if it often felt like a trial by fire.
The crew told me they had never become friends with any of the subjects of projects they’d worked on previously, to which I still can’t imagine it any other way.
Kara, Alex, Roxy, and Naddine — thank you for everything.
[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_empty_space][fwp_borano_title title=”We need to talk more about sex, kink, and BDSM.” link=”” tag=”h3″ title_pos=”text-center” absolute_center=”0″ separator=”1″ separator_pos=”separator” separator_m_bottom=”mb20″ title_color=”” extra_class=””][vc_column_text]
One of the most valuable aspects of this film outside of sex work is its compassionate portrayal of kink and BDSM. There’s still so much shame surrounding sexuality, especially for those who identify with submissive desires. The interviews helped to normalize this and show that these are all healthy aspects of sexuality when conducted in a healthy way.
Dominance and submission are symbiotic relationships that hinge on consent, trust, and connection, and for men who are able to joyfully embrace their submissive fantasies, it can be an antidote to toxic masculinity. In fact, it is by upholding powerful femininity, such as the glorious world of femdom shown in this documentary, that we can truly break down the stranglehold toxic masculinity has on men.
I was especially proud of Mo in the documentary because he bravely chose to honor himself with his interviews. Whether he knows it or not, Mo is the hero that more men need and has my unfettered respect.
My protege in the film, Ryan (formerly Raevyn), remains one of the most powerful voices for sexual liberation and she continues to inspire me to embrace my own sexual evolution every single day. The relationship that we built over the course of the documentary remains strong to this day and I’m grateful for her presence in my life.
[/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space][fwp_borano_title title=”I hope that my participation in this documentary helps other people to live their truth.” link=”” tag=”h3″ title_pos=”text-center” absolute_center=”0″ separator=”1″ separator_pos=”separator” separator_m_bottom=”mb20″ title_color=”” extra_class=””][vc_column_text]
I hope that my participation in this documentary helps other people to live their truth. I hope that it gives the mainstream public a different perspective on sex work, and inspires others to embrace their sexual desires.
I hope this sheds some light on how challenging it is to build and maintain a successful business in the adult industry, and how every single person you’ve ever fapped to on the internet deserves your respect– and your money.
(Side note: pay for your porn, people. There’s nothing sexy about jerking off to someone’s stolen work.)
If you’ve watched the documentary and want to be part of the magic of building my new space, we can use all the help we can get. Donate to the New Wicked Eden.
[/vc_column_text][vc_single_image image=”8178″ img_size=”full” alignment=”right”][/vc_column][/vc_row]
