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SWCR AWARDS BIO!! So proud to be nominated!

Written on September 22nd, 2026 by Vixen Blonde Updated September 22nd, 2026. Viewed 12 times.

Who Is Vixen Blonde?

Vixen Blonde is part of me, and I embrace her.

I’m not ashamed.

I’m not embarrassed.

I’m proud.

I hold my head high.

Yes, I’m an escort. Yes, I have sex for money.

No, that is not all it is.

Please, get an eraser and rub out that picture you’ve drawn in your head.

Dirty old men. Abusive drunks. Me being forced against my will to do as I’m commanded.

Whoever you’ve pictured, she sure as hell isn’t me.

But writing that made me stop.

Because some women are living that reality.

And if that’s you, I’m sorry.

You deserve to be safe. You deserve to be supported. You deserve to speak, and you deserve to be believed.

And that’s what I’m so passionate about.

The fear they instil in us.

That we’re dirty.

That nobody will believe us.

That nobody will help us.

So we hide what we do. We feel embarrassed. We keep our mouths shut. We make ourselves smaller and quieter, and sometimes we don’t even realise how much power we’re handing over by carrying that shame.

I know what it’s like to feel alone and abandoned.

I felt that before I ever started this work.

After a 20-year marriage, I went from having everything you could want to being destitute, asking for help with nowhere to turn.

I know what it feels like to wonder where the fuck everybody went when you needed them.

Then I discovered myself again.

For the first time in a long time, I felt beautiful.

I felt wanted.

I had my own money.

I was treated with respect.

I felt powerful again.

And I realised something.

The shame belonged to the people who had mistreated me.

So why the fuck was I carrying it?

Why was I walking around with my head down because of what somebody else had done to me?

Why was I allowing somebody else’s judgement to decide whether I was worthy of respect?

I’m not doing that anymore.

Being honest about what I do has brought some really positive responses.

Not from everyone.

That’s fine.

I’m not asking everybody to agree with my choices. I’m not asking everybody to understand my life.

But I am done living in fear of who might find out.

There’s a boutique in Melbourne that likes and shares my posts on Instagram. I walk in there and they treat me like a fucking queen.

They know what I do.

And I’m welcomed.

That means more to me than they probably realise.

Because there’s no whispering. No judgement. No looking me up and down like I’m somehow less of a woman.

I’m just treated like a human being.

But it’s sad that it feels like one in a thousand shops treats me that way.

It should be the other way around.

The one in a thousand should be the shop that looks down on me.

Being treated with respect should be normal.

And seriously, people, it’s not just sex.

Sometimes we’re a lifeline.

I’ve talked people back from suicide.

I’ve sat with people who have lost their mother. People who have lost half their family. People struggling with addiction, pleading for help because they have nowhere else to turn.

Sometimes what walks through our door isn’t somebody looking for sex.

Sometimes it’s somebody desperately looking for another human being.

Someone to listen.

Someone to touch them.

Someone to hold them.

Someone to make them feel, even for a little while, that they still matter.

Domestic violence against men is something I’m deeply passionate about.

I call it the silent pandemic.

Like us, men get trapped in a stereotype.

Be strong.

Be the provider.

Don’t cry.

Don’t admit you’re scared.

Don’t admit somebody is hurting you.

So when they’re being abused, controlled, humiliated or broken down, they feel ashamed to speak.

Sometimes they come to us to feel wanted.

To be touched.

To be held.

To feel worthy.

To have someone see them.

And we understand, because we know what it’s like not to be seen or heard.

We know what it’s like to be judged before somebody has even bothered to know us.

We know what it feels like to be hidden in the cupboard until everybody leaves, and only then are we allowed to come out.

I’ve also had clients with disabilities, and this is something I feel incredibly strongly about.

Because some of these people are so fucking lonely.

They are vulnerable. They want companionship. They want affection. They want somebody to sit beside them, talk to them, laugh with them, touch them and make them feel like a person instead of a disability.

And too many of them have been taken advantage of.

Again and again.

That needs to stop.

I am always clear and honest about my feelings towards them and about the reality of what this is.

I’m happy to be their companion.

I’m happy to spend time with them.

I’m happy to listen to them, laugh with them, hold them, give them affection and make them feel seen.

But I will never deliberately mislead somebody into believing we have something that isn’t there because there’s money involved.

That is a line I do not cross.

I will not cross it.

And I don’t think it should ever be crossed.

Because their vulnerability does not give anybody permission to exploit it.

Their loneliness does not give somebody the right to sell them a lie.

And maybe that matters so much to me because, in a different way, we are vulnerable too.

People try constantly to exploit us.

They see what we do and think our boundaries somehow matter less.

They think because money changes hands, they can say what they want, demand what they want, treat us how they want.

They think we won’t speak because we’re too ashamed.

So how could I possibly know what that feels like and then turn around and do it to somebody else?

I couldn’t.

I won’t.

We need to lift the bar.

We need to protect people who are vulnerable rather than seeing vulnerability as an opportunity.

We need more honesty.

More boundaries.

More humanity.

More fucking decency.

Because whether you’re an escort, a man experiencing domestic violence, somebody living with a disability, somebody grieving, somebody battling addiction, or simply somebody who has reached a point in life where you feel completely fucking alone, you deserve dignity.

You deserve to be heard.

You deserve not to be exploited because somebody thinks you’re too ashamed, too frightened, too lonely or too powerless to say anything.

That is the part I want people to understand.

Never again will I be hidden in that cupboard.

Never again will I make myself smaller so somebody else can feel more comfortable about who I am.

I’ll raise my voice.

I’ll stomp my feet.

I’ll speak about the things people would rather I kept quiet.

And I’ll keep doing it until I’m heard.

I won’t let somebody else’s judgement take that power from me again.

I am not dirty.

I am not your little cum slut.