I Am Not a Fantasy

I sell fantasies for your viewing pleasure.

However I am not a fantasy. Much as I’d like to be one, hair all flowing, looking perfect, saying just the right thing… I’m oddly attracted to a fetish I’ve recently discovered called ‘bimboification,’ where girls are ‘transformed’ into being the perfect sex object. But this is, of course, a fantasy and funny enough nowhere near my radar when I started porn. Becoming a sex object was the last thing I ever intended. I was always more focused on my own personal experience and my desire to understand sexuality then trying to get the approval of horny penises around the world. (Though I’d be lying if I said they played no part in my performance. I like being watched.)

The funny thing about the fantasy I sell is that its mostly predicated on doing completely (socially) unattractive things like fart, burp, and sweat. I love doing things like this because to me, it humanizes my body, it shows I’m living and breathing and not airbrushed or plastic.

But porn is porn. Media is media. And where there’s an image on a screen, someone (probably a lot of someone’s) will long for the image to be real in their very own bedroom.

Its not and it never will be.

I don’t reply to most of my emails because I simply don’t have time, but I took a good hour to write out a response to a really super nice one yesterday. The man was so ‘envious’ (to use his word) of Terry and our relationship, wishing he could find someone like me.

I am always flattered to read emails like this. I also always want to laugh because they’re largely divorced from the reality that is my life. People think they know me because they see me all over the internet – doing something for less than 5 hours on camera each month, only 0.6% of my life. This sliver of my life, most of which wouldn’t even happen if we weren’t filming a commercial product, defines me in many people’s eyes. Its an interesting experience to be known for something so minor (time-wise), yet also so outrageous (content-wise).

I’m sharing my response here to shed light on the other 99.4% of the time I’m not doing bizarre things in front of a camera.

Thank you for your very kind email. Your words are very flattering and it makes me happy you’ve taken a liking to my work :)

As awesome as it is to get emails like this, I have to point out that while I may be your fantasy — the thing you’re desiring is exactly that, a fantasy. Terry didn’t meet the person you see online today. That person has evolved from a painfully shy socially awkward little girl (who I still feel like pretty often). In fact, the only reason you even know who I am is precisely because I had so much anxiety about sex, it was so painful for me, that I had to do SOMETHING about it. And that something ended up being porn, just so that I had a place where I could interact with other people in a sexual sense. So I could learn about what other people did, what turned them on, what different bodies looked like. And hopefully somewhere in there, begin to feel good about my own and share that part of myself with my partners. The extent to which I am comfortable with some elements of sex now (definitely not everything) is in direct proportion to how UNcomfortable I used to be.

I am often playing a balancing act between being authentic and being, for a lack of a better word, attractive. Please realize, I love what I do, but what I do is create a commercial product; its not a hidden camera in my bedroom. Selling that product entails presenting myself on the internet as attractive so that you want to watch my videos. On video everything happens perfectly and I’m wonderfully sexy and seductive and in a fantastic mood. So of course you want me! And that does happen sometimes in real life, its awesome when it does!

Terry and I, like many couples, seem to fit together perfectly at the same time as we can trigger one another perfectly. We don’t fight so much as I become emotionally overwhelmed and cry hysterically and he sits in silence. Neither of which facilitates open communication, especially about sex. In fact, we just spent last evening and several hours this morning communicating about how exactly we communicate, when it works why it works, and when it doesn’t why it doesn’t. Going back and forth – when you say X I feel Y, well when you feel Y you do Z and that makes me feel Q, etc, etc, etc. With this (super fucking difficult) conversation, like many others, we’ve helped open one another’s eyes to our behavior and how it affects each of us. If there’s anything special about our relationship, its only that we’re committed to working through shit and growing where we need to, even when its hard. And its the working through shit that brings us closer and makes sex (and everything else) better. I mean who gives a fuck if your sexual interests align if you can’t get your shit together to actually connect? That’s what I’m slowly but surely learning to do.

There can be times when I’m a complete emotional anxious mess – I just decided a long time ago never to put that out onto social media. Its embarrassing, unattractive, and obnoxious. At the same time I can’t sell a fantasy of myself – I can’t bring myself to act as if I’m the always horny porn star who gets off on everything the viewer happens to – I have to be real to some degree, so I try to write on my blog (KelseyEducation.com) as I learn how to handle my emotions, have fun with my work and deepen my relationship with Terry.

I hope this doesn’t kill your interest in my work completely, but I’d rather be honest than help perpetuate an unrealistic fantasy about myself.

And then I gave him some links to my podcast to help the guy out. I’m not an asshole (all the time). I’m just not a fantasy.

Edited: October 5th, 2014