Dear Readers,
Once, I found myself at dinner with the founder of OnlyFans. He wasn’t the most flamboyant guest at the table, but the stories he shared left a lasting impression. As he recounted building the platform and explained his motivation to empower women at its core, I noticed my own preconceptions shifting.
Who was I to judge?
So, it didn’t surprise me when a friend shared that some women are using OnlyFans not as an explicit platform, but as a space to receive spiritual tributes from men—devotees who see them as living embodiments of the divine feminine. In these cases, OnlyFans becomes less a marketplace for adult content and more a modern sanctuary for goddess worship.
This isn’t new. Humanity’s longing for the divine feminine has deep roots, evidenced in countless temples and shrines across the world. Traditionally, devotees offered coins, flowers, or prayers to priestesses or statues, each tribute a form of reverence. In the ancient Hindu tradition, the divine feminine is honored by a thousand Sanskrit names—so manifold is her importance.
I was reminded of another encounter with the sacred feminine outside formal spiritual settings: a crowded, steamy drag bar in Cuba, known for its glamorous queens and fervent audience.
What struck me most wasn’t just the performers’ beauty, but the genuine reverence in the way locals gave them money. Each offering was made with respect, sometimes even on bended knee. In contrast, in much of Western culture, tipping in strip clubs often feels more like an act of domination or objectification—a way to diminish rather than uplift.
The difference was palpable.
What does it mean when a culture kneels before the feminine on stage, offering tribute out of awe and gratitude? And what does it say about us when we cannot do the same?
So when I learned that women are claiming empowerment on OnlyFans, I understood. My friend told me about a woman who channels Kali herself—the goddess of destruction and creation—receiving tributes from male devotees. Why not? I have been blessed by incomparable female spiritual teachers, and today I serve as a guide to women who are apprenticing on their own paths. Stories like this inspire me to reconsider spiritual lineage and its future—long after my time.
“Lineage” comes from “line”—a link, a flow. When I was young, I searched for a lineage and, thankfully, found one; it sustains me to this day. But as a teacher with students of my own, I’ve had to reevaluate what lineage means. It’s changing.
Historically, lineages relied on the unidirectional transmission of wisdom, from teacher to student. Today, I think true lineage means a teacher recognizing each student’s unique gifts and holding space for those gifts to grow—offering shelter, not control. This is the “grandmother frequency”: not about hierarchy, but about nurturing new lineages through protection and encouragement. The power no longer resides in the teacher alone, but in the students who will carry wisdom into the future. The teacher’s role is to safeguard their gifts until they are ready to become guides themselves.
This is a profound shift. When I hear about women gathering devotees on OnlyFans, I celebrate it. “Fans” become “devotees.” May more women find power in their essence, attracting tributes purely for revealing who they are.
Last week, I worked with a cherished student—a gifted woman who’s studied with me for a year—who experienced a real breakthrough. She thanked me afterwards, calling me her spiritual mother. In her native language, there are two words for “thank you.” She spoke both to me: “Spasibo” (meaning “God save you”) and “Blago Daryu” (“I give blessings”). Hearing both, I felt the gratitude as a genuine tribute—a recognition not of my authority or knowledge, but of my role as “godmother” of her emerging gifts.
May spiritual power always belong to those who protect and nurture the gifts of others until they’re ready to soar.
So today, I want to extend thanks to the founder of OnlyFans. You were a wonderful dinner companion, but more importantly, you showed me how devotion can look different in our time—and how vital it is to broaden my perspective.
The day is coming when spiritual power will be democratized and distributed, not hoarded. The teachers of the future aren’t gatekeepers, but guardians—protectors of the next generation’s spiritual gifts, and midwives to their becoming.
In Everything We Trust,
Sylvia
