Only after this intellectual and emotional groundwork is laid does the subject undress. The masturbation that follows is not a performance of orgasm but an extension of the conversation. It is messy, unpredictable, sometimes funny, sometimes tearful, often silent. The climax, when it comes, is not a money shot; it is a punctuation mark on a personal story. Ifeelmyself emerged in the mid-2000s, a cultural moment defined by two opposing forces. On one hand, there was the hyper-commercialized, gonzo aesthetic of mainstream porn (maximizing shock and male fantasy). On the other, there was the rise of "reality" exploitation media like Girls Gone Wild , which framed female exhibitionism as a drunken, coerced party trick.
In an internet saturated with algorithmically driven, high-velocity pornography, a quiet corner has persisted for nearly two decades, operating on a radically different set of principles. ifeelmyself.com is not a site one typically stumbles upon. It is a destination—one that asks its visitors to slow down, to listen, and to witness rather than simply watch. ifeelmyself.com
For its creator, Angie Rowntree, the project has always been as much about conversation as commerce. She has given talks at universities and festivals (including SXSW) not about "porn" but about intimacy , consent , and the politics of looking. In an era where sexuality is increasingly mediated by algorithms, filters, and the pressures of performative social media, ifeelmyself.com stands as a stubbornly analog artifact. It insists that pleasure is not a product to be optimized but a mystery to be honored. It asks its viewers to trade speed for attention, consumption for contemplation, and fantasy for a different kind of gift: the radical, unsettling, and beautiful sight of a woman being completely, vulnerably, herself . Only after this intellectual and emotional groundwork is
Whether one visits as a curious anthropologist, a lonely seeker, or a couple searching for a new language, the site offers an unusual bargain. It does not promise escape. It promises presence. And in a digital world engineered for distraction, that may be the most subversive promise of all. Ifeelmyself.com remains active as of 2025, operating under its original ethical guidelines and maintaining a subscription-based, ad-free model. The climax, when it comes, is not a
In many ways, ifeelmyself was ahead of the curve, anticipating the ethical porn movement (Erika Lust, Four Chambers) and the broader cultural shift toward consent, mindfulness, and the de-stigmatization of female masturbation. It also predated the OnlyFans revolution, but with a key difference: where OnlyFans democratized production but often retained the transactional gaze of the "cam girl," ifeelmyself prioritized a documentary intimacy over direct performer-fan interaction. Film scholars have noted that mainstream pornography relies on a specific "male gaze" (Laura Mulvey’s term, co-opted and literalized): close-ups that fragment the female body, fast cuts that disorient, and camera angles that subordinate the subject to the viewer’s voyeuristic control.