When the Algorithm Says “Not For Dudes”
Let’s get something out of the way. I post with intention. Sometimes it’s sexy, sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s raw, but it’s always real. Whether it’s a cheeky rant about jerk-off buddies, a drug label satire breaking down NRE, or an open letter to men stumbling into sex-positive spaces like it’s their first time in a locker room, I’m not here to sanitize my voice just to slip past an algorithm.
And yet, here we are. Again.
Recently, I uploaded a shirtless mirror selfie and asked an AI to make it look like it was taken in 1985. I was curious what it could do with a period prompt like that. I wasn’t asking for a nude remix or anything scandalous, just a vintage filter. Still, the system hit me with a content policy violation. No explanation. Just a digital slap on the wrist.
And honestly? I wasn’t even surprised.
The Invisible Hand That Covers Your Mouth
What’s wild is that I’ve spent the last year learning how to share my story without oversharing. I’ve crafted a whole persona, equal parts coach, pup, and troublemaker, while keeping just enough behind the curtain. I’ve written openly about sex clubs, boundaries, arousal, masculinity, loneliness. And I’ve done it with humor, vulnerability, and just enough “did-they-just-say-that?” to keep it honest.
But platforms don’t reward honesty. They reward safety. And by safety, I mean blandness.
You can post shirtless gym pics with “bros before hoes” captions and get algorithm love all day. Say you’re “cruising” or mention “poppers,” though? Suddenly, you’re flagged. You’re too risky. Too suggestive. Too something. The same visual gets clout in one space and quietly buried in another.
Even on platforms built for adult content like OnlyFans, words like “poppers” and “daddy” get creators demonetized or deleted. Not because the content is dangerous, but because queer language gets treated like a liability.
And yet, if you know, you know. And if you don’t, you’re probably not the target audience anyway.
A Life Split by Design, Not by Choice
In my day job, I lead in a high-performance, professional setting. It’s a space that rewards precision and control, and I’m damn good at what I do. But the part of me that builds community, the one that throws events, hosts conversations, and writes things like “An Open Letter to Single Men at the Sex Club,” that version lives online under a different set of rules. Rules that feel tighter every month.
And while I’ve learned how to walk both roads, I can’t help but notice how often one of them gets barricaded. Or shadowbanned. Or erased.
Why This Isn’t Just About Me
It’s bigger than a flagged selfie or a deleted story. It’s about how platforms are shaping culture by silencing parts of it. How liberal creators, educators, and storytellers get nudged into invisibility while the straight versions of our content get amplified and monetized.
No one is asking for special treatment. We’re asking for a fair shot. I want to talk about sex and connection and masculinity and power without being labeled a threat to community standards.
The irony? My blog posts that get the most love are the ones that refuse to apologize. They’re the ones that say the quiet part out loud. Not for shock value, but for solidarity.
Because someone has to say it.
