My second night in Lawrence, I had dinner with Corissa Enneking, Jay Aprileo, and Meghan Tonjes, three fat creators I know from the internet. We sat outside in the warm breeze and talked about the strange niche of being a public fat person—a defining force in my adult life but something I rarely get to discuss with anyone who understands. These three were just so there for each other, and I thought about how easy and healing it was to connect with people if you’re brave enough to let them know you.
I said I was trying to figure out how to feel sexy again, and I thought maybe I’d start a secret OnlyFans. But I didn’t want to show my face, and I didn’t want to be naked, and what would I DO on it? “Anything,” Corissa cut me off before I even finished the question. “Men will pay to watch you do anything. You don’t understand. They want to watch you do ANYTHING. Vacuuming, playing video games, cutting your toenails.”
“I’m not sure if cutting my toenails on camera is going to help me reconnect with my sexuality,” I said.
“Maybe not,” Corissa laughed. “But you’re leaving money on the table.”
They walked me out to my van and I noticed Fat Daddy’s honey jar still stuck in the cup holder. Impulsively, I offered it to Jay and Corissa as a goodbye present, as though the power of Fat Daddy might cement our friendship, preserving this moment in its amber depths forever.
“Hell yeah!” said Jay.
“Drive safe,” said Meghan. “I gotta go clip my toenails on OnlyFans.”