Rough career patch?
I have been working as a performer in the adult film industry for 15 years now.
2008-2011 - I was basically proving myself and getting my foot all the way in the door.
2012-2014 - I had proven myself and was working regularly enough to call it a career.
2015-2019 - It feels like I was peaking as a performer during these years, working the most.
2020-2021 - The pandemic hit and everything became blurry and confusing to everyone.
2022-2023 - The industry saw a major transformation where independent content became king.
Now it's 2024 and the traditional industry (shooting for companies) has taken a backseat to independent content.
Along with this, the industry has turned into "an influencer's game", just like so much of the music industry, and sometimes film & TV as well. We no longer look to talent or passion to find our new stars, but instead simply those who have the most followers.
This month, I am starting to feel like I am being phased out of the XXX world.
I can't tell if it's just a rough patch, or if it's the reality of what's happening.
But, studio shoots are few and far between now.
What has taken precedent is the expectation for me to acquire a certain number of content trades per month, only I have the lowest follower count out of pretty much every single talent in the entire industry, so the incentive for women to shoot with me, or take me seriously, seems to have reached a low that feels parallel with when I first entered the industry as a nobody.
Somehow the 1250+ scenes I've shot over the last 15 years seem to be worth very little, because the only numbers that matter now are social networking follower counts.
I also have no idea how my follower counts as so low, considering I am one of the most active internet users I know out of all my friends, on my phone every day, posting almost every day.
I don't know what to do about that anymore.
I don't think giving up is an option though?
How do you even do that?
I aim to get 3-4 content trades per month these days.
This month, I got 2 successfully shot, and had ELEVEN scheduled and then cancelled either the night before, the day of, or got completely ghosted on.
ELEVEN.
About 7 of those were back to back to back to back for an entire week.
I know things happen on occasion but 11 consecutive cancellations is insane.
It can't be "by chance".
I don't hold it against any one person but as a whole I feel completely neglected, disrespected, and as if this represents the whole of the entire industry not taking me seriously.
I've found myself flashing back to high school when I was trying to instigate my earliest sexual experiences, of course that would be in the form of trying to entice my sister's friends to come down into the basement and "mess around" when they were sleeping over. On occasion things would happen, but most of the time I recall that they just found it really creepy. I don't want to ever be in that position again, yet all of a sudden with the changes in the industry, I have found myself in that position yet again. I loved the industry the way it was: you get booked with someone, you show up, you shoot the scene. Now, a major part of my job is reaching out and asking people to have sex with me on camera, EVERY SINGLE WEEK. And I hate it. First and foremost, I don't want to be a pest to anyone, but also, this shit is absolutely crushing my ego. I would say it's potentially my least favorite thing about this job that I have experienced in my fifteen years in XXX.
I've begun having dreams that feel blatantly representative of the alienation and imposter syndrome that's started overtaking me.
Last night, I dreamt that I was alone with actress Dasha Nekrasova in her home, which seemed to be in Malibu.
Before Dasha blew up, primarily through some viral internet clips, her podcast Red Scare, and eventually a role on HBO's Succession, she was just some local aspiring actress who didn't have that many followers and starred in my friend Ashley's weird vampire-themed art film. During that stage, I felt a very strong draw to her, which some people might call a crush, and felt determined to learn more about her so that I could try to figure out how to connect with her in person. When you feel this way, you develop a mild attachment to this person in your head, which I have learned over the years is called a "parasocial relationship".
I haven't thought about Dasha for a while so I'm not sure why she showed up in my dreams, but it definitely seems like she filled the shoes of a very obvious and relevant archetype.
In the dream, I knew I shouldn't be there but for some reason Dasha was talking to me regardless, though she had a weary energy to her and was asking me a fair amount of questions, like light interrogation.
We end up in conversation about another actress from her circles, probably Betsey Brown, and I make some comment like "Wow, that's so Betsey", and we laugh a bit. Not long after the, on the same subject, I say, "I don't really know her that well", and Dasha immediately retorts, "But you said, THAT'S SO BETSEY"..."That's creepy". That makes me nauseous.
Eventually, a ton of Dasha's friends show up and it's like a small party. Dasha gives me this thing that you kind of hold like corn-on-the-cob but I couldn't quite tell what it was. There were some orange crustacean-looking legs sticking out, and the whole thing is covered in what looks like brown coffee grounds, but I assume it's some kind of spices similar to Old Bay or something.
I figure it must be corn on the cob with like crawfish and Old Bay or something.
I see some weird little orange centipede looking things kind of crawling on it, and I can't tell if they are cooked or just alive, but I'm like, whatever - if I'm gonna fit in here, I better eat this.
So, I start trying to eat it and it's really salty but otherwise doesn't really taste like or even "work" like food...
The "Old Bay" seems to just be DIRT, and as I bite into the dirt and a bunch of it falls off, I see that I'm basically just holding a weird crustacean giant-crawfish type creature, like a giant orange sea cockroach, only I can't tell if that's cooked either or if it's just alive.
I throw it into the sink and start to feel sick. I start looking around for bathrooms but there's a line for one and when I look down another hallway where there are no people, I feel like I'm not allowed in there.
When I turn back around, Dasha's parents are sitting there on the living room floor right in front of me with a really concerned look on their face. They ask me who I am, and tell me, "You look like you would kill".
I realize I'm dressed more like a rocker or a punker than everyone else all of a sudden, so I take off my black beanie and the face mask and the sleeveless denim vest covered in death metal patches, to show them my real face and hair, and they sort of laugh at me and say something along the lines of "Oh, much better. So handsome and innocent..." but they are completely sarcastic.
They ask who I know. I assume they mean in the area or in connection to being at the party.
I say "Just the Huizenga's".
They say "Oh" in a stern and disapproving fashion,
and then I wake up.
I just immediately felt that this dream symbolized the alienation and imposter syndrome I've started to feel in my industry lately.
I feel like I'm teetering towards invisibility.
Let's hope something changes!!!
Cheers!
2008-2011 - I was basically proving myself and getting my foot all the way in the door.
2012-2014 - I had proven myself and was working regularly enough to call it a career.
2015-2019 - It feels like I was peaking as a performer during these years, working the most.
2020-2021 - The pandemic hit and everything became blurry and confusing to everyone.
2022-2023 - The industry saw a major transformation where independent content became king.
Now it's 2024 and the traditional industry (shooting for companies) has taken a backseat to independent content.
Along with this, the industry has turned into "an influencer's game", just like so much of the music industry, and sometimes film & TV as well. We no longer look to talent or passion to find our new stars, but instead simply those who have the most followers.
This month, I am starting to feel like I am being phased out of the XXX world.
I can't tell if it's just a rough patch, or if it's the reality of what's happening.
But, studio shoots are few and far between now.
What has taken precedent is the expectation for me to acquire a certain number of content trades per month, only I have the lowest follower count out of pretty much every single talent in the entire industry, so the incentive for women to shoot with me, or take me seriously, seems to have reached a low that feels parallel with when I first entered the industry as a nobody.
Somehow the 1250+ scenes I've shot over the last 15 years seem to be worth very little, because the only numbers that matter now are social networking follower counts.
I also have no idea how my follower counts as so low, considering I am one of the most active internet users I know out of all my friends, on my phone every day, posting almost every day.
I don't know what to do about that anymore.
I don't think giving up is an option though?
How do you even do that?
I aim to get 3-4 content trades per month these days.
This month, I got 2 successfully shot, and had ELEVEN scheduled and then cancelled either the night before, the day of, or got completely ghosted on.
ELEVEN.
About 7 of those were back to back to back to back for an entire week.
I know things happen on occasion but 11 consecutive cancellations is insane.
It can't be "by chance".
I don't hold it against any one person but as a whole I feel completely neglected, disrespected, and as if this represents the whole of the entire industry not taking me seriously.
I've found myself flashing back to high school when I was trying to instigate my earliest sexual experiences, of course that would be in the form of trying to entice my sister's friends to come down into the basement and "mess around" when they were sleeping over. On occasion things would happen, but most of the time I recall that they just found it really creepy. I don't want to ever be in that position again, yet all of a sudden with the changes in the industry, I have found myself in that position yet again. I loved the industry the way it was: you get booked with someone, you show up, you shoot the scene. Now, a major part of my job is reaching out and asking people to have sex with me on camera, EVERY SINGLE WEEK. And I hate it. First and foremost, I don't want to be a pest to anyone, but also, this shit is absolutely crushing my ego. I would say it's potentially my least favorite thing about this job that I have experienced in my fifteen years in XXX.
I've begun having dreams that feel blatantly representative of the alienation and imposter syndrome that's started overtaking me.
Last night, I dreamt that I was alone with actress Dasha Nekrasova in her home, which seemed to be in Malibu.
Before Dasha blew up, primarily through some viral internet clips, her podcast Red Scare, and eventually a role on HBO's Succession, she was just some local aspiring actress who didn't have that many followers and starred in my friend Ashley's weird vampire-themed art film. During that stage, I felt a very strong draw to her, which some people might call a crush, and felt determined to learn more about her so that I could try to figure out how to connect with her in person. When you feel this way, you develop a mild attachment to this person in your head, which I have learned over the years is called a "parasocial relationship".
I haven't thought about Dasha for a while so I'm not sure why she showed up in my dreams, but it definitely seems like she filled the shoes of a very obvious and relevant archetype.
In the dream, I knew I shouldn't be there but for some reason Dasha was talking to me regardless, though she had a weary energy to her and was asking me a fair amount of questions, like light interrogation.
We end up in conversation about another actress from her circles, probably Betsey Brown, and I make some comment like "Wow, that's so Betsey", and we laugh a bit. Not long after the, on the same subject, I say, "I don't really know her that well", and Dasha immediately retorts, "But you said, THAT'S SO BETSEY"..."That's creepy". That makes me nauseous.
Eventually, a ton of Dasha's friends show up and it's like a small party. Dasha gives me this thing that you kind of hold like corn-on-the-cob but I couldn't quite tell what it was. There were some orange crustacean-looking legs sticking out, and the whole thing is covered in what looks like brown coffee grounds, but I assume it's some kind of spices similar to Old Bay or something.
I figure it must be corn on the cob with like crawfish and Old Bay or something.
I see some weird little orange centipede looking things kind of crawling on it, and I can't tell if they are cooked or just alive, but I'm like, whatever - if I'm gonna fit in here, I better eat this.
So, I start trying to eat it and it's really salty but otherwise doesn't really taste like or even "work" like food...
The "Old Bay" seems to just be DIRT, and as I bite into the dirt and a bunch of it falls off, I see that I'm basically just holding a weird crustacean giant-crawfish type creature, like a giant orange sea cockroach, only I can't tell if that's cooked either or if it's just alive.
I throw it into the sink and start to feel sick. I start looking around for bathrooms but there's a line for one and when I look down another hallway where there are no people, I feel like I'm not allowed in there.
When I turn back around, Dasha's parents are sitting there on the living room floor right in front of me with a really concerned look on their face. They ask me who I am, and tell me, "You look like you would kill".
I realize I'm dressed more like a rocker or a punker than everyone else all of a sudden, so I take off my black beanie and the face mask and the sleeveless denim vest covered in death metal patches, to show them my real face and hair, and they sort of laugh at me and say something along the lines of "Oh, much better. So handsome and innocent..." but they are completely sarcastic.
They ask who I know. I assume they mean in the area or in connection to being at the party.
I say "Just the Huizenga's".
They say "Oh" in a stern and disapproving fashion,
and then I wake up.
I just immediately felt that this dream symbolized the alienation and imposter syndrome I've started to feel in my industry lately.
I feel like I'm teetering towards invisibility.
Let's hope something changes!!!
Cheers!