Going Against the Grain - Why I Took a Stand on Deprogramming Fetishes

Going Against the Grain - Why I Took a Stand on Deprogramming Fetishes

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Stepping into my truth and sharing a framework for deprogramming fetishes has been one of the most challenging—and ultimately rewarding—decisions of my life. For someone who has spent years immersed in the kink and fetish world, both personally and professionally, going against the grain of the “anything goes” ethos felt like a monumental shift. It’s no small thing to challenge a cultural narrative that celebrates limitless exploration of desire. Yet, the more I delved into the real emotional, psychological, and energetic impact of some fetishes, the more I realized that helping people reclaim their autonomy required me to speak out.

The dominant narrative within the kink-positive community encourages full acceptance of all desires, framing them as unchangeable aspects of identity. It’s a message that, on the surface, seems empowering: the idea that we should embrace who we are without judgment, shame, or inhibition. I have witnessed and experienced firsthand the beauty of self-expression within these communities. I’ve met people who have found liberation and personal growth through their exploration. But over time, I also began to notice the other side of that freedom—individuals who felt trapped by their desires, unable to connect deeply with others or find peace within themselves.

In crafting my Architecture of Fetishistic Complexes (AFC) framework, I began addressing some of the darker realities of fetishism—compulsions, isolation, shame loops, and the parasitic energy structures that keep people stuck. These experiences, which some people quietly endure, don’t align with the “anything goes” narrative. And that’s where the challenge arose. To say that a fetish can be deprogrammed or transformed is not just controversial—it feels like heresy in a world that values acceptance above all. I knew I was stepping into uncomfortable territory, risking backlash.

For a long time, I hesitated. It’s not easy to stand apart from a community that has embraced you. There’s comfort in belonging and approval, and confronting this topic meant moving in the opposite direction. But ultimately, the desire to help people—those suffering silently beneath the surface—pushed me forward. Seeing how deeply ingrained some fetishes had become in my clients’ lives, leaving them disconnected from themselves and others, I knew I couldn’t sit back and allow the narrative to remain unchallenged.

This journey of change was not just theoretical for me—it was personal. I struggled with my own fetish for smoking, which was intrinsically harmful and could never be integrated into a healthy lifestyle, no matter how much I tried. It became clear that some desires are not simply about sexual freedom—they are compulsions that erode well-being over time. Deprogramming that fetish was a turning point in my life. It allowed me to reclaim a sense of autonomy I didn’t know I had lost and helped me reframe my relationship with desire. Today, I still enjoy the aesthetics and creativity of fetish fashion, but in a way that is deeply fulfilling and no longer compulsive or destructive.

What I’ve learned along the way is that it’s not about taking sides. This framework isn’t anti-kink, far from it. I have deep love for the kink scene and immense respect for those who find joy and empowerment within it. But I’ve also encountered many people whose fetishes have become prisons, limiting their ability to connect, thrive, or experience joy. My work exists for those individuals—the ones who feel ready to change, who no longer want their desires to define them, and who crave a deeper connection to themselves beyond compulsion.

Through this work, I’ve had the privilege of helping clients disentangle from fetishistic complexes, release energy structures that were feeding on their emotions, and rebuild their lives. Witnessing their transformations has been the most rewarding part of this journey. These are people who thought they would never break free from compulsions that controlled their every move, people who believed their desires were unchangeable. Seeing them reclaim their autonomy has reaffirmed every difficult decision I’ve made along the way.

I won’t pretend it has been easy—there were moments I questioned everything. But as I reflect on this journey, I am grateful I made the choice to step into this work. Empowering people to reclaim their lives is what drives me. Offering them tools to heal and the freedom to choose a path that feels right for them is the heart of this framework. I stand by this work, not because it’s comfortable, but because it’s needed.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that real empowerment comes from choice. Whether that means embracing desires fully or working to change them, what matters most is that people feel free to make those decisions. The AFC framework exists to offer that choice—for those who are ready to change, to heal, and to build new relationships with themselves and the world around them. And that, for me, is what this work is all about.