By Stella Wilson
Growing up I always knew I was different. For a long time I was too young to understand why, or articulate how I was feeling, but I always knew there was something. As I got a little bit older, I realized it went deeper than just wanting to play with barbies and not liking football, I felt like an alien in someone else’s body.
I was always into the feminine side of things, desperately wanting to grow my hair long, and in awe of Carrie Bradshaw every time she came on screen when mum was watching her Sex and the City box set. The way she dressed, her hair, those shoes! I wanted to be her, not stuck in this weird body of mine. Over time I grew my hair and started stealing my mum’s makeup. I would sneak into the room to take her lipsticks, blusher or anything I could get hold of, and put it on under my duvet at night. The first time I did it became a core memory. Something inside me just clicked and it all made sense. This is who I wanted to be, Stella. I didn’t even care that my parents could burst into my room at any moment, I was happy for the first time in a long time.
After about a year, I told my parents what I had been feeling. They were quite dismissive at first but when I went into detail about how long I’d felt this way and that I didn’t want to be a boy, they realized this wasn’t just a ‘phase’. It didn’t come as a surprise for them, nor were they phased, but they were understandably worried for me and how other people would react.
The next morning before school I decided that I would just come downstairs with makeup on. Nothing too major, just a bit of lipgloss and some eyeshadow. I remember my mum telling me to go and wash my face, but dad stayed silent. When I refused, my mum insisted she was asking me for my own good, saying I would get picked on if I was to go into school looking like this, but the truth was that was already happening. In fact, school was already a living nightmare for me.
While battling my own internal conflicts with my identity, I was also having to face physical conflicts at school. Having never really fitted in with any friendship groups I’d become quite a loner and spent most of the school day in silence, praying no one looked in my direction. But kids have a way of sniffing out any differences and they know when someone has a weakness. My silence put a big target on my back. At first the bullying was quite mild. Boys tripping me up in the corridor, or emptying my bag over my head. They would make remarks about my long hair and how I looked like a girl. As much as I just wanted a quiet life, I secretly loved when they would say I looked girly.
However, once I started wearing makeup the bullying got even worse. This one boy in particular, Jamie would be the ringleader. He would always spot me from across the hallway and I knew it was coming. It was like a bull to a red rag and nothing could stop him from hitting and pushing me until he’d got his anger out. My only respite was when he got suspended for a short time, but I refused to let it stop me from becoming the real me. I figured if this was going to happen to me anyway, why not embrace it. I couldn’t suppress who I was anymore. I was more miserable being in a boy’s body than whatever the misery the bullying brought. I gave up caring what torment I had coming my way, taking every kick and punch as motivation to get stronger and stand up for myself.
Things were quite bad for a whole year but after a while Jamie and his group seemed to back off. I guess it wasn’t as much fun for them once I stopped caring. I was too busy figuring my own self out and making sense of what I was feeling – terrified to go through puberty and jealous of all the girls who were starting to become more womanly. Why couldn’t I be like them too? I took the decision to go onto hormone blockers and am forever grateful to myself for having the courage to do this.
After graduating, I felt free to be me. The real me. Anyone I introduced myself to would know me as Stella, and I could finally reinvent myself, free from the shadows of my past. One place that I would always seek solace and helped me during this time was the online world. I found communities of people who understood me, and listened to me. This snowballed into having quite a large following on social media and after a few years I decided to monetize my growing popularity and joined OnlyFans as an adult content creator.
The reception I got on the platform still surprises me. Everyone was so welcoming. Through OnlyFans, I could share my journey in a way that was both personal and public. I post pictures and videos, but I also write about my experiences and my struggles. My content is raw and real, reflecting the highs and lows of my life. My subscribers aren’t always just there for the visuals; they are invested in my story.
However a year into content creation, I found out through a friend of a friend that Jamie, my high school bully has been subscribing to my OnlyFans. The irony was not lost on me. The same person who once hurled insults and mocked my existence was now paying to see me. It was a bizarre form of vindication. The power dynamics had shifted entirely; I was no longer the victim, he has to pay for access to my life, my story, and my body. Part of me thinks this is his way of compensating me for what he put me through, but the other half of me wonders whether he was confused about his sexuality all along and took it out on me because I symbolized his confusion. Either way, I will never forgive him for what he put me through but I have found some closure in this surreal yet empowering twist of fate.
I will continue to post on OnlyFans for as long as I can. It is a small corner in the world that has been a huge part of my journey to self-acceptance and self love. I am stronger and happier than I ever have been and look forward to showing the world, and Jamie, what an incredible woman I am.
Contributed article by content creator Stella Wilson.
For more information, visit her Instagram or OnlyFans accounts.
