When 18-year-old Lil' Tay announced that she had made over a million dollars within hours of launching her OnlyFans account, the internet exploded. Some cheered her on as a boss babe, a financial genius, a poster child for female autonomy in the digital age.
But while the headlines were fixated on her earnings, I couldn't help but focus on something else:
Why were so many men already waiting?
Let that sink in.
The moment she legally became an adult, thousands – possibly millions – of men were poised, fingers ready, wallets open, to consume her content. Not because she had built years of artistic credibility or because she offered something groundbreaking but because she had just crossed the invisible line between “girl” and “legal.”
This isn’t just about Lil' Tay. This is about the systems, algorithms, and cultural mindsets that normalise waiting for girlhood to expire before descending in a frenzy of consumption.
Is that not the very definition of predatory behaviour?
As someone who fiercely believes in women having complete control over their bodies, their choices, and their income streams, I’m not here to shame Lil' Tay. She’s legally an adult. She made a choice. That part is hers to own.
But what we must talk about is this: When a woman’s “choice” is met with overwhelming, almost obsessive male interest the moment she becomes legal, is that still about her agency? Or is it about a system that sexualises girls long before they even become women?
What if this is less about empowerment and more about preying on proximity to innocence?
Platforms like OnlyFans operate at the intersection of consent and capitalism. And we need to be honest, capitalism doesn’t always care whether your consent is rooted in empowerment or survival. It cares about what sells.
And youth sells.
So when the world praises Lil' Tay for becoming a millionaire overnight, are we truly celebrating her financial freedom or are we indirectly congratulating a market that profits off barely-legal bodies?
Can you be empowered in a system that profits from your objectification?
Can you have agency when the very thing that brings you success is the thing men fetishise about your nearness to girlhood?
And can we, as a society, pretend that everything is okay just because she said yes, without asking what she had to say no to?
We shouldn’t vilify Lil' Tay. We shouldn’t judge any woman making a living in a system built for male desire. But we should absolutely question the audience, the timing, and the intentions of those who made her rich in minutes.
We can support women’s autonomy and call out the predators.
We can champion financial freedom and question the ethical frameworks around it.
We can hold space for nuanced conversations that don’t pit empowerment against protection — because real empowerment means the freedom to choose without being preyed upon for it.
The question isn't just “Should she have done it?” It’s “Why was the world so ready for her to?”
Let’s empower girls before they turn 18, so they never feel like their body is the only ticket out.
And let’s raise boys who don’t wait at the finish line of girlhood, panting like they’ve just run a race.
