Have you ever walked into a room and thought, how did I get here
Have you ever felt completely out of place and completely at home at the same time
Have you ever been so exhausted, so fulfilled, and so grateful that you wanted to cry and nap at the same time
If yes, congratulations. You have emotionally been to AVN.
Welcome to the largest porn convention in the world. AVN.
It is loud. It is glittery. It is overstimulating. It is holy in the weirdest way. And somehow, it feels like a family reunion where everyone is hotter than you remember and nobody asks when you are going to have kids.
I love going to AVN because it is the one time a year when the entire adult industry gathers in one place. Creators from all over the world. Different countries. Different cultures. Different bodies. Different stories. And yet, somehow, the same trauma. It is the perfect storm of creativity, chaos, and connection. It is also the only place where you can discuss lighting setups, childhood wounds, and dinner plans in the same sentence.
Before the madness begins, I always start my trip the same way. I go to my parents’ house. I stay the night. They watch Tofu and Biscuit for the week. My dogs. My children. My emotional support freeloaders. My parents smile and pretend they are not counting the minutes until I leave so they can spoil them rotten.
The next morning, I head straight to the Virgin Hotel. I unpack. I immediately destroy the room with outfits. And then I get ready for a photo shoot.
This year felt different. I am rebranding. I am taking my entire brand to the next level. Less chaos. More intention. Still inappropriate, just organized. I am getting more serious about my business, my image, and my future. Which is funny, because nothing says “professional rebrand” like standing half naked under bright lights while someone tells you to tilt your chin slightly to the left.
After the shoot, I collapse. Fully. No cute nap. No gentle rest. I knock out like a phone at one percent battery that ignored the low power warning.
Wednesday is the first day of the convention. Convention day is always my favorite. This is when I meet fans. Hug people who have supported me for years. Introduce myself to new fans. Sell photos. Sign autographs. Smile until my face hurts. Catch up with fellow performers I have not seen since last year and immediately pick up where we left off like no time passed at all.
I love that part. I love people. I love connection. I love seeing someone’s face light up when they meet you and realizing that you mattered to them in some way. That you made them laugh. That you helped them feel less alone. That you were part of their story, even briefly.
And then there are the after parties.
Every night after the convention, there is a party. And if you do not pace yourself, AVN will chew you up, spit you out, and politely ask you to attend another mixer.
One of my favorite moments every year happens during the convention itself. There is a Christian group that attends AVN and they interpret dreams. Mostly women. Soft spoken. Kind. Grounded. They believe that interpreting dreams is a spiritual gift from the Holy Spirit. And I believe that too.
God speaks through dreams. It is biblical. It is ancient. It is intimate. And watching these women sit with people that many Christians would call sinners and speak hope, meaning, and love into their lives is one of the most beautiful things I see all week.
They hear stories. They listen. They pray. They remind people that God has not stopped speaking to them just because their life does not look clean. They are living proof of grace. Not wrath. Grace.
Thank you to that ministry for showing what God’s love actually looks like when it shows up in uncomfortable places.
Then comes the biggest party of the week. The White Party.
Everyone dresses in white. Everyone. It is like a sexy cult meeting but with better music. We dance. We drink. We sweat. We pretend we are younger than we are. I stay until midnight, which is nothing short of a miracle because I like to be asleep by 11 pm. I am an old lady with a young face and a strict bedtime.
The AVN Awards show is always magical. Everyone looks incredible. Dresses sparkling. Makeup flawless. People shining. I love watching everyone win their awards. I cheer loudly. I clap hard. I cry easily.
My greatest joy is seeing other people happy. Truly. Watching someone win, watching their hard work be recognized, watching them glow. That fills me more than any trophy ever could.
By the end of the week, I am done. Emotionally. Physically. Spiritually. My social battery is in witness protection.
I drive back to my parents’ house. Stay the night. The next day, I help them sell my dad’s truck. Because nothing grounds you like negotiating a vehicle sale the morning after a week of porn conventions. Then I head back to LA.
I fall asleep at 8 pm. I do not move. I take three full days to recover. My body demands rest and I finally listen.
It was a fun week. Memories I will cherish. Moments I will hold close. Gratitude I cannot fully explain.
I live every day thinking that tomorrow is not guaranteed. When you lose a lot, when you lose where it hurts, you learn to cherish moments differently. You stop rushing through life. You stop assuming there will always be more time.
And maybe that is the lesson.
Show up fully. Celebrate others. Rest when you need to. Love boldly. Be grateful loudly. And never assume that your life has to look a certain way for it to be meaningful.
Grace meets us exactly where we are. Glitter, exhaustion, faith, flaws, and all.
Remember you are my lovers, whether you love me or love to hate me you are still my lover!
Don’t forget Jesus loves you and so do I!