THE PORN PARADOX: Why Men Hate What They Pay For

Introduction: The Sexual Autonomy Crisis

There’s something uniquely sinister about the kind of comments you find under an OnlyFans creator’s Instagram posts. Degrading comments about her body. Her sexual health. Her capacity to be wanted; loved. This chorus of degradation is never sung in protest of sexual content itself. It is not coming from men who abstain. These are not sex-critical monks or celibate philosophers. These are the same men who pay for access — who keep these same women rich. The very same users who subscribe in private are the ones lining the digital walls with abuse. It is not a contradiction. It is a power struggle.

They want the content.

They just hate that she owns it.

The Rise of Female-Owned Sexuality

OnlyFans is a rare anomaly in the entire history of the sex industry. It has provided women with the keys to a door that had long been held shut by male producers, agents, pimps, directors. Men were allowed to dictate the terms of a woman’s exposure — to curate, control, and capitalise on their sexual identity. Some became millionaires doing it.

Now the one’s making money - are women.

And a lot of male consumers, do not like it.

Because once the transaction became woman-led, it no longer fit the traditional format. Sex, for much of history, has been something taken from women. Once it is given — intentionally, for profit, with boundaries and business acumen — it becomes threatening. And this is the core of the paradox:

Men like porn, but they do not like women who choose to make it.

They like the fantasy of sex that doesn’t belong to her.

“She’s Mid”: The Rage of Rejection

Statistically, men are the overwhelming consumers of pornography. According to Statista, over 65% of porn viewers globally are male. Pornhub’s 2023 Year in Review also revealed that 68% of their traffic came from male users. Yet those same men are increasingly vocal in their disdain for the women they watch. What are we seeing here?

• A crisis of control.

• A bruised ego.

• A backlash against female autonomy.

The comments — cruel, detailed, graphic — reflect a sense of entitlement turned sour. It’s not that they don’t desire these women. It’s that they can’t possess them. Not in the way porn once allowed them to. Because platforms like OnlyFans shift the power: the woman is no longer a submissive screen-siren, selected and directed by a man. She’s an entrepreneur. A curator. A digital dominatrix of her own image.

And some men hate that.

Ownership vs Access: Why Autonomy Feels Offensive

When sex becomes a female-led business, it no longer exists for the consumer’s pleasure alone. It’s not personal, and that’s infuriating for men who were raised on porn that mimicked personal access. In traditional porn, the illusion is that she wants you. That she’s doing it for you. OnlyFans shatters that illusion.

She’s not here to please you.

She’s here to make money.

And the money is the insult.

The fact that she’s profiting — really profiting — from the thing men once used to control her, is what makes them uncomfortable. It’s the same reason many men mock women who say no — rejection of access feels like an affront. And when you add success to that rejection? It becomes unbearable.

“Barley Legal”: The Internalised Misogyny of Female Creators

But the paradox doesn’t end with male viewers. It also lives in the content itself.

Creators like Bonnie Blue and Lily Phillips have built entire platforms on the encouragement of male entitlement. Their marketing often plays into deeply problematic fantasies — schoolgirl tropes, romanticised cheating and home-wrecking. The most troubling is the “barely legal” narrative, which encourages young men to experience their first sexual encounter as something transactional, performative, and emotionally detached. It’s a deeply exploitative dynamic—one that would face far greater scrutiny if the victims weren’t men.

These creators are not responsible for all harm — but they are complicit in the repackaging of internalised misogyny as empowerment. When your content directly encourages men to cheat on their partners or treat women as disposable playthings, you’re not subverting the patriarchy. You’re just cashing in on it, validating men’s toxic ideals and directly contributing to the suffering of women.

True sexual empowerment must exist outside of the male gaze — not entirely, but at least critically. And many of these creators are not doing that work.

Power, Money, and Misogyny

Sex is never just sex under patriarchy. It’s a currency, a symbol, and a measure of worth. For women, sexual freedom is always met with consequence — shame, humiliation, discredit. The success of women on OnlyFans brings to light a long-held imbalance. These women are no longer anonymous, replaceable bodies. They are named, faced, credited, and paid. And for men raised on the belief that sex makes a woman less valuable, watching it make her richer feels like a glitch in the system.

This is why we see the paradox:

They buy her content, and then publicly shame her for it.

Because consumption without control doesn’t sit well in a system built on dominance.

Conclusion: You Want It, You Just Hate That She Does Too

The truth is uncomfortable: some men do not hate porn. They hate that women are no longer losing in the equation.

OnlyFans is not perfect. Sex work is complex. But when a woman uses her body, her mind, and her image to make a living — and does so on her own terms — she becomes more than an object. She becomes a threat to a very outdated order. The men who leave violent, degrading comments on the profiles of creators they secretly subscribe to are not critics. They’re not moral arbiters. They’re angry that she doesn’t need them.

And if a woman profits from your desire, without having to desire you back — then she wins.

And in the minds of these bitter consumers, the woman isn’t supposed to win.