The Camgirl Diaries

I guess I’d better start now, or I never will. It’s 5:00 pm and I have yet to sit down. I’ve thrown off work clothes, posed for nudes in new lingerie and posted my thumbs off on Reddit, after an 8 hour shift teaching, but I haven’t sat down. If it’s ever going to get written I need to write it now.

Depending which side of the fence you stand on, you may think cam girls are one of two things. You may find them liberated young women, stomping all over the patriarchy and living life to its fullest. Or, you may see them as half baked sex workers who are, naturally, all headed straight for hell. You might sit on the fence, seeing both sides as you are their John, or your wife is. You might not even be able to see the fence, and all of this may drop your jaw in shock and awe. But no matter how you see us, we are daughters, sisters, teachers, friends; we are  ordinary people.

I wish it had been imparted on me earlier that most of life is shades of grey, and the imperative nature of finding the radical acceptance that allows this fact to be okay. We aren’t simply good or bad, and choices aren’t only right or wrong. Sometimes, you have to make a decision, then make it the right one. There isn’t inherit shame in the human body, although there certainly is in our culture. I’m too paralyzed by slut shaming to write under anything but a pseudonym for god’s sakes! Sex is one of the greyest of all the grey areas adults wander in this world, I’d say.

I wish it had been imparted on me earlier that most of life is shades of grey, and the imperative nature of finding the radical acceptance that allows this fact to be okay.

What makes it right, wrong? Monogamy? Heterosexuality? Conformity to social norms? Pleasure? Money? Beyond procreation, what is the purpose of sex, and does it need to have the same purpose for you that it does for everyone? I ask you to pause here and consider that before coming in hot, ready to burn the witch of a cam girl.

That’s me. I’m the cam girl. I’m 32, 5’4, weigh 115 lbs, have curly brunette hair and grey eyes. You wouldn’t know me by brown hair though; I make more money as a blonde so I wear a wig. I do have daddy issues but not the make you weird inside type. I have a best friend who’s a cam girl and many friends who I couldn’t admit a thing to. I’ve developed a weird duplicity – I even wear a different perfume before I stream. Isn’t that crazy? Without it getting unhealthy, I try to make myself a different person in a way. 

Speaking of perfume – let’s start at the beginning. The basic lay of the land. Beginning with the routine. Every girl is different and we have varying upkeep needs to cam, so I can’t speak for everyone. For example, if you don’t shave your bush I cannot relate with your routine. But I can tell you mine and baby, it’s comprehensive. 

I get home from work and usually have a package. New lingerie. Gotta keep things exciting, unique. Above all viewers love novelty. I don’t make enough money to buy new new lingerie so I use resale apps and buy the ones with tags still on them. If I had enough for nearly daily deliveries of REAL lingerie I wouldn’t be camming, ya dig? It’s work. It’s time. It’s a lot. So anyhow, I open up the package(s) and decide what I’m going to wear that night. If I’m tired I might avoid the garter belts with the stupid rubber clasps that constantly come undone; if I’m peppy I might go for cosplay or neon. Men seem to like complicated and / or strappy lingerie in unflattering colors (don’t they see how washed out red makes me look?); the straps I’m alright with. The complicated bits and garish colors are something I endure.

It might sound at this point like I accept too much, or too little, depending on how you look at it. It’s a bit of both to be honest. I value my self worth, but am still willing to sell my image for a price. A price I set; as a cam girl, you are your own commodity. But we’ll circle back to that sometime when discussing marketing.

I throw the same sweatpants and Disneyland sweatshirt on over the lingerie, like a scrubby actress backstage in wardrobe, so I can go do my hair and makeup. It’s already been done for the day, but for a very different profession and this calls for a more exaggerated look. The lights wash out your complexion, show every crack in your under-moisturized lips, highlight every tiny lipstick stain on the edge of your teeth. Eyelashes fade into nothing and I refuse to believe anyone’s hair naturally shines and they “glow”. Getting ready for the show requires drastic measures in the way of altering ones appearance. 

I’m pretty by the way. All of these steps might sound as if I have something average or below to cover up. But no, I’m actually quite naturally beautiful, and do have high self esteem thank you very much. However, doesn’t mean I can’t always look better with mounds of plastic attached to my head and face. Because along with the foundation so I don’t look greasy, eyeliner and mascara so my grey eyes pop, highlighter so I shine on camera, and lipstick so I don’t look like I’m dying of anemia, there are also plastic lashes glued to my eyelids and the wig on my head. I have nice, curly, long natural hair. But again, viewers like novelty, and there’s only so many ways to change it up for them. 

It often reaches late in the afternoon before I realize, I haven’t once sat down. I have a shot of espresso to perk back up and if it’s now close to five also grab a glass of wine. Double fisting coffee and wine, what an experience epitomizing the exhaustion of adulthood. This shit will leave you mentally and physically dead if you have another job, and I do. God forbid I have to shave and do it in the sink because my shower is conveniently broken.

Now I have to stage the room, get everything right that will be in the camera frame. Oh, wait, first I should go into my group and make a calendar event for when I’ll be live. If I’m lucky someone will have gifted me in the chat. Back to the room. It’s a bit of a frantic runaround no matter how many times you do it; there’s so many things to be done, to transform. The bed needs to look clean and minimal; I’ve been wanting one of those white duvets with the hotel vibe for so long but haven’t made the investment. Duvets are really expensive, man. 

I have a gigantic ring light and two studio lights. The ring light and one studio light will keep my face and body bright, and one will be in back to light up my ass. This only matters because I recently got a large mirror; I now stage it strategically behind me – if you know what I mean. My viewers consistently say my ass is my best, well, “asset”, and who am I to deny the consumer access? I’m not a 70s porn star, I swear. I prefer to think of myself as an “internet stripper” at worst. And a million mens’ closest confidante / online therapist.

Do I get some peace and quiet now? Blessed time to lay down on my shitty used couch with my pugs and Nintendo? Maybe. It really just depends on the time of day, how many rooms I’m booked in on my go-to app, and when I got home from work. How long it took to put on the lingerie and plastic, then post links on Reddit and Snapchat, take and send content in my group’s chat. How long it took to message my sugar daddies and find out who’s buying dinner, and take care of my two dogs. Quiet time or not, soon the show must go on.

And there we have it. A quick peak into something you may have never seen, the beginnings of a unique world, and taboo. As I attempt to explain to you the weirdness and complexities of my life I realize; I have some serious writing to do. So there’s the lay of the land and an introduction to (I hope) your protagonist, who will tell you more next time.