A Little Spark of Something Naughty

Every now and then, a flicker hits you. Not a full-blown fantasy, just a whisper of curiosity. A glint of desire that doesn’t match the rest of your rhythm. Something kinkier than you're used to. Rougher. Stranger. Forbidden in that delicious way that makes your skin tingle before your brain fully catches up.

Maybe you let the fantasy bloom for a minute. Maybe even Google something, dip a toe into the community, lurk on a forum. But just as quickly, you pull back.

You can’t do that. What would people think?
What would your mama say? The cousins who already side-eye your social media presence? You simply couldn't be that person but, then again, who has to know? Because the beautiful, liberating truth is this: whatever you get up to in the privacy of your bedroom or your mind is entirely your business.

We live in an oversharing economy, but your inner life, your desires, your pleasure? That’s premium content. And premium means: for select eyes only!

The Myth of Modern Openness

Lately, we’ve seen the sex lives of celebrities ripped open like a pack of gum. Kinks exposed. Preferences debated. Headlines that read like erotic fanfic, but with real consequences. I’m not naming names—I don’t need to. You’ve seen it. You've probably clicked. Maybe even judged.

But here’s the thing: we shouldn’t know any of this.

This isn’t about puritanical repression. It’s about honoring the sacredness of sexual expression. We have mistaken public knowledge for progress. But what we’ve created is a machine that chews people up for being too sexual and too private at the same time. You can post your ass, but don’t enjoy it too much. You can be gay, but don’t be messy or too femme. You can have a kink, but God forbid it’s one that the timeline finds too real now or at any point in the future.

You Don’t Have to Post the Play-by-Play

There is so much power in being known. We all want that. And in many ways, social media gives us a shortcut to feeling seen. It says: If you post it, they will understand you. They will validate you. But that’s a lie.

Most people don’t understand themselves, let alone you. Most people are simply jumping from one dopamine hit to another.

As someone who shares their life online, I know how it looks. But I promise you: what you see is processed. Packaged. Softened by time and tempered by introspection. I don’t share because I need to be heard. I share because I’ve already heard myself. I’ve sat with the confusion, the shame, the heat, the joy. What I offer is the gift of hindsight—not a cry for help.

And that matters. Because privacy is not a lack of vulnerability. It’s a boundary. It’s discernment. It’s saying: this part of me is not up for public debate.

Regular People Need Privacy More Than Celebrities

Here’s a truth that doesn’t get said enough: the less famous you are, the more damaging oversharing can be.

Celebrities have PR teams. They have agents, fans, and non-disclosure agreements. You? You’ve got nosy coworkers, group chats, exes, church aunties, and that one messy friend who screenshots everything. You don’t need the world to co-sign your sex life. You just need to feel good in your skin and safe in your spirit.

Because when it comes down to it, what matters most is what you think. What your lover thinks. What your body says when it finally exhales.

Your Kinks Might Be Inherited—But Still Aren’t Public Property

Here’s a weird, slightly hilarious truth from a sexual psychologist: kinks run in families. No, I’m not saying your grandma was into leather. But I am saying that proclivities are often passed down genetically, energetically, sometimes even through silence. Meeting my siblings has certainly made it very clear that my insanity is genetic.

But here’s the thing: even if everybody's doing it, nobody wants to talk about it. Because it’s not the act that scandalizes people, it’s the knowing. The act can be sweet or filthy or tender or brutal. But once it’s public, it’s political. It becomes a performance. And real sex is not for performance. It’s for presence.

Pleasure Isn’t More Valid When It’s Public

You don’t need an audience to be real. You don’t need comments to confirm your climax. You don’t need to educate the community every time you feel something new.

You can explore bondage and never post about it. You can get peed on and never write a thinkpiece. You can be vanilla and still radically embodied. Your privacy is not your prison. It is your playground. The freedom to act without performance, to desire without defense, to love without likes.

Keep Some for Yourself

Let your fantasies stay in your body if you want. Let your kinks be whispered, not shouted. Let the deepest parts of you be met only by those who have earned the right to touch them.

Privacy is not hiding.
Privacy is holding.
Holding your truth. Holding your power. Holding the exquisite right to be a mystery.

Your sex life doesn’t need a platform. It needs a place.