I’ve never thought myself to be in the company of Neo-Nazis and violent far-right misogynists. My views differ drastically, of course. Not once have I incited violence against any marginalised community, or tried to convince my audience of some great and far reaching conspiracy. And yet, within the last twelve years, the social media gods have deemed me – and everything I stand for – a large enough threat to the safety of the general community to be deplatformed several times. Forgive me any radiating scorn that may reach out via your screen. Deplatforming is a tool used by various social media giants to limit or remove someone’s ability to communicate with their audience, their community. More often than not, we would like to think an individual has their account suspended or removed due to the level of harm they potentially present to the online community, but how often is that really true? A large number of notable names that have been deplatformed over the years have been political extremists, far-right politicians, and conspiracy theorists. Numerous aggressive nationalists have been forcibly removed from Twitter (X), Instagram and Reddit.
Following the rise of incel culture in the last decade, a few individual agitators have also joined the long list of the misunderstood and deplatformed. It’s an attempt to limit their audience, removing their dangerous influence, however platforms are also protecting themselves from potential legal liability. Interestingly, it’s noted that being “cancelled” on one of the larger platforms often grants people a level of infamy that can attract an even more dedicated audience elsewhere.
The social media gods have deemed me – and everything I stand for – a large enough threat to the safety of the general community to be deplatformed several times.
At the end of 2018, I woke up to the deletion of my original work Instagram account. Along with around five years of memories, pictures and conversations with friends and colleagues alike. I immediately lost an audience of over fifty thousand people. Unlike the way the platform works now, I had been given no prior warning or strikes. There was no option to check my account status, my recommendation eligibility or – most importantly – to question the final, abrupt decision to remove me from the platform. Although at times, I have adopted a devil-may-care attitude towards risqué posting with various usernames since then, there had been no nudity on my original account. At the time of its deletion I had been an in-person sex worker for six years and had zero explicit content available online. Throughout the initial, formative years of my career, I was ruled by a paralyzing internalized whorephobia, I’d partly inherited from my Domme elders. Our peers who posted their nudes and insinuated they offered intimate sexual services alongside domination were looked down upon within the community, and bullied harshly on Twitter. Despite privately thinking these rules were quite arbitrary and a little ridiculous, I adhered to them with a religious zeal.
Already struggling to be taken seriously as a “Professional Dominatrix'' at such a young age, my shirts stayed buttoned, my pencil skirt rarely strayed above the knee. There had been nothing overly erotic about my presence on Instagram six years ago, aside from an enduring honesty about what I did for a living. Yet I still found myself deplatformed. That’s not to say I believe sexually explicit content would have been a just reason for my removal, simply that had Instagram been asked to provide an explanation for my removal, it sure as shit wasn’t because I’d gone against their T&Cs about explicit content.
There was no option to check my account status, my recommendation eligibility or – most importantly – to question the final, abrupt decision to remove me from the platform.
Since that initial deplatforming, I have been removed from Instagram a further three times, all on different accounts. As the last twelve years have passed, I’ve watched the guidelines and restrictions on various social platforms, clip sites and advertising pages become steadily more draconian.
During the pandemic, when I – like so many other sex workers – was forced to make the switch to full-time online work, I watched my income diminish by around 80% after my then current Instagram account was deleted – with no avenue to appeal. After starting afresh with another username, I’m not ashamed to say I felt suicidal. Countless evenings were spent scrolling through content from various celebrities and models that was undoubtedly far more explicit than anything I had ever posted. Shamefully, halfway through a packet of Oreos and a bottle of white zinfandel, I reported the naked nipples of a celebrity for offensive nudity. I seethed at the greasy screen of my Macbook.
Unsurprisingly, the photo was not removed. It did disappear from her profile grid especially for me though. Signing into my deep undercover account, I could see her bare nipples were still present for the rest of the world to see. I sat for hours staring at them, puzzled by the immense danger the suggestion of my own breasts represented to the world, compared to her own. A few months later, the Internet would be sent into a frenzy by another celeb posting a photo where his penis could clearly be seen. Although it later turned out to be a prosthetic, there was no way for the thousands of people who flocked to his profile to differentiate it from the real thing. The post remained visible for almost 24 hours before it was eventually removed.
My income never truly recovered after my deletion during the pandemic. The effort I made to regain my following could have powered a small country, but the account I started shortly after was immediately shadow banned. Even with no infractions marked against my shiny, new profile – I represent a lifestyle they do not want on their platform. Four years ago, my Twitter was also hit with the same curse, becoming an engagement wasteland after many wonderful years of growth and community. Unsurprisingly, a year after making my new Instagram page, it was deleted once more.
The effort I made to regain my following could have powered a small country, but the account I started shortly after was immediately shadow banned.
As someone who’s been in the industry and chronically online over the last decade, the prejudice and injustice sex workers face in online spaces had become an accepted – albeit grating – part of the journey. As Instagram has grown, the staggering disparity between the censorship faced by sex workers, compared to celebrities, Twitch gamers and models, has become almost comedic in its greatness. My love for social media has been ripped from me, just like the communities that I’ve found there, never to return. No amount of advertising, posting or engagement has restored my success – my access – to what it once was. Money is such an incredibly small part of the frustration. So many of the friends I’ve made during my career, so many memories, conversations and tiny moments have kept me going online – all of which have been repeatedly taken away from me. Opportunities I’ve been offered have disintegrated when the thousands of followers I’d amassed have been stripped away. A drastic loss of not only income, but community and support. For members of an already marginalised, stigmatised group, this can lead to a whole host of horrors. If you’ve not experienced it yourself, you may be thinking, “you’ve lost an Instagram profile, it’s not that deep”. I assure you, it very much affects every aspect of our lives.
My current account was restored to me at the end of last year, after being one of the sex-positive profiles that was wiped by Meta in a mass cull at the start of last summer. A move by the social media platform that prompted the creation of the #stopdeletingus campaign and protest, fronted by London-based BDSM sex club Klub Verboten. Since re-gaining access to my following on the platform, which is currently just shy of twenty thousand followers, the overwhelming disenchantment I feel towards social media has kept me largely inactive. With enforcement of the community guidelines and what is and is not acceptable varying so drastically from user to user, there seems little point attempting to maintain a presence on the platform.
If you’ve not experienced it yourself, you may be thinking, “you’ve lost an Instagram profile, it’s not that deep”. I assure you, it very much affects every aspect of our lives.
I wish I could offer a war cry to rally us all against this suffocating censorship we face daily. Maybe a few years ago I would have ended this with an inspiring message to help you to continue fighting the good fight. But I am tired. As someone who experienced the internet and social media at a time where sexual expression was not seen as the poison it is today, there is no positive spin I can offer. Censorship is destructive to society as a whole, not just us sex workers. Alongside my colleagues, many artists, writers and creatives of all kinds are finding their work and presence removed from public view. A world without art, sexual freedom or self-expression, is a world without magic. Social media is a fundamental, functional, part of most people's daily lives. The damage that ongoing censorship will do to so many communities will be devastating. I can’t imagine what could possibly turn the tide but, my God, I hope it’s coming.
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