yellow brick wall with a white sign that reads "stage door"

I’ve been looking at the blinking cursor for a good twenty minutes, trying to narrow down what I want to say and why I want to say it, but the words keep sliding by and evading me. I want to share, but I feel stunted. I took a month or so off and stayed away (mostly) from Twitter and this blog, but the pull to come back is strong. The show must go on but will I ever be ready?

I should say, before I go much further, that I am very grateful, to a few of you folks in particular, for being kind and patient with me while on hiatus. I had tremendous support from Storm aka @VanillaFreeSex (go read her blog!) as well as Molly aka @Mollysdailykiss (she blogs here!), and of course, the Daddy of all Daddies, @narayyane. I also had some rather cold and cruel “feedback” from folks who felt short-changed because I locked the blog and didn’t post for #LiFE and #BoobDay. It was disappointing to have people reach out without concern for my feelings or state of mind, simply to tell me I was “selfish” for not posting link-ups while I was on hiatus. I’m not sure I understand that logic or that approach, but the people who sent nasty shit (you know who you are) are folks I sadly won’t be conversing with again. You win some, you lose some, I guess.

It’s not you, it’s me. I think?

Real talk: I have fallen into a pattern with this community where I want to do so much more than I am able to and then I am disappointed and frustrated as a result. I am actively still grieving the great unravelling of 2020 in the wake of the transphobe wars and cancel culture. I’d love to be ‘past it’ but I’m not. I miss the true sense of community I felt. It was unique and robust and felt real and palpable. I know I need to give up on the dream that it will ever feel that close or supportive again, unless I am prepared to spearhead that myself. As much as I want to “be the change I want to see” I don’t feel equipped to do that and I don’t feel like it’s a very good investment of time and energy. I have other projects on the boil and I still don’t know exactly why I’m coming back to blogging other than I’m still chasing that feeling that used to be. I need to get over it.

I’d love to be ‘past it’ but I’m not. I miss the true sense of community I felt.

The Violet Disconnect

I’ve mentioned before that being Violet can be a challenge. In some ways, by knowing me as Violet you know me better than most, because so many people in my “real”/vanilla life, have no idea of the more depraved inner workings of my overactive imagination, nor do they know that I’m so pro-sex worker or that I’m naked on the internet. They also don’t know so much about the level of pain and trauma that my life has been riddled with; most know nothing of my mental health. You, as a reader of this blog, have insight that my own family doesn’t get. But it comes at a cost, and sometimes, being Violet is more than I am able to be. That level of vulnerability is hard for me. It’s also hard for me to just fade back a bit and blog less. I can’t explain why I am so all or nothing about it, but I am. I’m working on that.

I know that fellow bloggers will understand this: blogging about your personal experiences can be so much more revealing and infinitely more uncomfortable than being nude. It is the epitome of nakedness, and to be honest, I’m not always that brave. I feel like I have courage in this world of sex blogging, I speak to my beliefs and I stick to my guns, but I also lack the everyday bravery of showing up as Violet. That comfort/discomfort, the push/pull of Me/Violet comes and goes. It’s hard to imagine giving her up entirely; she is the personification of the parts of myself I know both best and least, she is the vessel of truths that I don’t otherwise speak. Violet is more than an alter ego, she’s the intersection of Me, Myself, and I.

I know that fellow bloggers will understand this: blogging about your personal experiences can be so much more revealing and infinitely more uncomfortable than being nude. It is the epitome of nakedness, and to be honest, I’m not always that brave.

Onward, not inward

I’m in the process of adjusting my expectations; of myself, of Violet and of sex blogging in general. I need to accept that I can’t currently produce the 5 – 8 posts per week that I used to. I need to accept that how I feel about the community is not necessarily how others feel, what I want is not necessarily what they want, and that sharing my misery about the state of things isn’t helpful. Y’all must be so tired of me and I don’t blame you.

I’d love to tell you that I have a plan or a solution for how convoluted my feelings are about sex blogging, and how/if I still fit into this world. So much of me wants to keep going but parts of me just wants to shut it all down and fully move on. My indecision is a constant frustration for me, and so is feeling like online communities are so mutable and swift to change that if I do permanently leave, then everything I have produced as Violet Fawkes was for nothing because it will all be forgotten. Perhaps I don’t have the courage or skills to make a difference. Perhaps I’m just an attention whore.

Not quite the final curtain

For the moment, I’m ‘back’. I’m not quite ready to give up entirely, but I feel a bit battered and tired. I want to run the community-based projects like LiFE and BoobDay, etc. and I want to join in on all the other amazing projects others are hosting but I’m realizing I have some limitations right now on how much I can reasonably do. While on hiatus, I began a legit small business and it’s feeling like a better place to put my energy right now, but I also know that I am already somewhat disenfranchised from the sex blogging community, and I’d like to prevent it from slipping away entirely.

So, here I am: the same ball of nerves and overthinking that you know and love (ha!), the same fat crusader for body acceptance, the same emotional mess. If you’re still vibing with my personal brand of misanthropic smut and occasional self loathing, welcome back. And if you’re not, that’s cool too. Just don’t let the door hit you on the way out.


Violet

Violet Fawkes (she/her) is a freelance writer and sex blogger focusing on pleasure education, erotic fiction, and the intersection of identity, kink and mental health.