Nikole left her local parish to live a life of sin…
Standing in a sea of bowed heads, a lady to my right nudged me.
‘Look down to the floor,’ she whispered. ‘You’re speaking to God.’
‘Amen,’ I said in chorus with the other churchgoers.
I was six years old and was raised in a strict Baptist household.
Church, God and Jesus were the backbone of my upbringing.
Every morning and bedtime, my parents encouraged my siblings and me to engage in prayer and we’d attend church three times a week.
As the years passed, my faith remained strong, but I couldn’t resist the temptations that came with adolescence.
During secondary school, like most teenagers I dabbled with sex and alcohol.
Nothing crazy, I just enjoyed my youth, occasionally swapping my sacramental wine for Shiraz…
Obviously, it all happened behind my parents’ backs.
But as the years passed, the guilt that I felt began to consume me.
I felt dirty, like I was the naughtiest teenage girl in the world.
‘I promise to abstain from alcohol and sex,’ I vowed to God every evening. ‘I won’t even date anyone — I swear.’
And one day, after many nights praying, I finally found the strength to stop all my dabbling.
From there on out, church was my main focus. I even dreamt about becoming a priest.
But I knew the Baptist church viewed that as scandalous. In their eyes, women were born to be wives and mothers, to look after the house and babies.
I parked my dreams of becoming a priest, and instead settled down, marrying a wonderful man and welcoming three beautiful children.
He was religious but open-minded and we raised our kids liberally.
‘If that’s your dream you need to chase it,’ my hubby encouraged after I told him how I always wanted to be a priest.
‘Do you really think so?’ I asked.
‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘If our church won’t recognise you, another will.’
‘I love you,’ I gushed, truly touched.
With his support, my dreams became a reality, although it caused a rift between some of those closest to me. I was excluded from my own church and sought out inclusive communities, finding myself surrounded by people from all walks of life.
I was particularly drawn to the gay community. I felt a connection, like I belonged.
Could I be gay? I often wondered.
At 32 years old, I’d been married to a man for seven years. But I knew if there was one person I could tell, it would be him.
‘I don’t think I’m straight,’ I blurted out one evening.
‘OK,’ my husband replied. ‘That’s totally normal and I’m happy you’ve discovered that part of yourself.’
I felt relieved to finally acknowledge the part of me that had always been there.
But I had no intention of leaving my husband.
Besides, he was so open-minded I knew he would always support me on my journey of self-discovery.
When the church found out I identified as gay, I realised there was no room for me there any more.
On top of that, some of my family members thought my way of life was unacceptable.
They told me they loved me and we kept things civil, but it wasn’t the same.
Still, coming out was the best thing I could ever have done.
‘Have you ever done a naked photo shoot,’ a gay friend asked me one evening at a regular social.
‘I don’t think I could,’ I replied, blushing.
It was incredible seeing women being sexy and successful, as well as housewives and mothers, but I wasn’t sure it was for me.
‘You should give it a go,’ she encouraged. ‘It’s so liberating.’
She sent me some examples of the work she had done with friends and I was taken away by how tasteful and respectful they were.
‘I’m going to do a nude photo shoot,’ I told my husband, my mind firmly set.
‘That’s great,’ he winked. ‘I always thought you’d make a beautiful model.’
‘What have I done to deserve a husband like you?’ I grinned.
He never failed to amaze me.
On the day of the shoot, as I dropped my robe to my feet and my naked body was revealed, I didn’t feel an ounce of nerves.
‘Is this really your first time?’ the photographer asked.
‘Yes,’ I laughed. ‘Really.’
In that moment, everything changed.
It was like I realised I was born to take my clothes off.
I broke down crying the happiest tears ever, having a full-blown epiphany.
With that, my modelling career took off, and the more shoots I did the more sensual they became.
My husband was as supportive as ever, although it soon became clear that we wanted different things.
He wanted a humble, quiet life, while I craved a life in the limelight.
‘It’s for the best,’ he told me as we signed the divorce papers.
‘I know,’ I smiled, wiping away a tear. ‘But it doesn’t make it any easier.’
Thankfully, we remained the best of friends. I knew he’d always be my biggest fan.
In time the news began to spread that I had become a nude model, so I took the plunge and made an official announcement on social media.
I’m just letting you all know that you will see some different photos of me on here so please unfollow me if you don’t want to see them, I wrote.
This was really hard for some of my family members to hear, so I had to put some very strong boundaries in place so that we could find a way to love each other without hurting each other, which meant that we drifted.
It soon became very clear that many people disapproved of my new lifestyle.
It broke my heart, but having them in my life was causing me too much pain.
If they didn’t want to educate themselves on me or my life, then I didn’t want them in it.
Only, it appeared they weren’t the only ones who disapproved.
‘I can’t believe this,’ I fumed as I read the message.
My photos were deemed to be breaking Facebook’s nudity laws.
I set about looking for an alternative, more open space to share my photos.
That’s when I discovered Only Fans, an adult internet site, where people could pay to subscribe to content.
At first, I would post sexy snaps in my lingerie for my paying fans to scroll through.
But before long, I was doing stripteases for the highest payers, live streamed or one-to-one video.
My photo shoots have become a lot more graphic too.
Most people think my Only Fans account is exclusively for sexy time, but it’s enabled me to build on the skills I learnt as a priest.
I give people advice on relationships, sex and life in general.
It’s been the best thing to ever happen to me. I love that it excludes no one and everyone is welcome.
Now, I feel closer to God than ever.
People see the glitz and glamour of my life and think I have it easy.
The truth is, I’ve had to release so much to get to where I am.
But it’s all been worth it.
I’m the most happy, peaceful, sexy and free I’ve ever been.
Nikole Mitchell, 37