So you are curious. That is a good start.
There are moments that seem unimportant until they change the entire direction of a life. Mine was booking a flight to Melbourne. A short break. A return ticket waiting. I never used it.
I grew up in Western Australia. Long roads. Open sky. A place that shaped me, but one I had already outgrown in ways I could not yet name. I had built something stable and respectable, but I could never quite feel myself inside it. I wanted a life that felt lived rather than managed.
Melbourne arrived at the exact moment I needed it. Late nights. A quiet sense of possibility. The feeling of being understood without having to explain a thing. There was nothing dramatic about it. It simply fit. I cancelled the return. I stayed.
I am 193 centimetres tall. Tall enough to change the tone of a room when I walk in. My legs know how to lead. My curves hold their own. My eyes do not look away first. People often tell me the air shifts around me, as if the room has decided to pay attention. It is not theatrics. It is presence, and I carry it without effort.
Becoming Riley was deliberate. I chose her. I built her piece by piece. My heels are high. My manicure clean. My lips are lined in a shade that feels like mine, only better. Precision suits me. It also reflects the care I take with myself and with the people I allow close.
Outside the bedroom, I am steady and self assured. Tall, feline in the way I move, confident without reaching for attention. I enjoy new experiences, but I rely on ritual. The restaurant that knows my order. The staff who greet me by name. The barista at the end of my street with my coffee already in hand. The dry cleaner on Lonsdale who never misses a detail. The driver who can take me across the city the moment I need to move. These familiar rhythms ground me. The unpredictability of my work keeps me awake. I live between the two and I love the balance.
My transness is something I own entirely. It gives me agency. Freedom in how I present myself to the world. Choice in who I allow close, whether in intimacy, friendship, or family. I became the woman I am with resolve. I am becoming the woman ahead of me with the same clarity.
In conversation, I can seem quiet at first. I am not. I listen. I observe. I read the person across from me before deciding how to meet them. Connection and psychology have always been the pulse of my curiosity. They are why I chose this life. Every encounter teaches me something about people, and in turn, something about myself.
I enjoy softness. The real kind. The kind someone offers because they want to, not because they think they should. I like certainty too. Someone who knows what they feel and is not afraid to show it. Desire interests me most when it has direction. When it is clear, unforced, honest.
There is a quiet pleasure in guiding someone into that space. It is not dominance in a formal sense, but a steady hand and a calm certainty that invites someone to follow. I recognise the moment a guard slips. I see the instant someone lets themselves want. That is where the real work begins.
Time with me is not about performance. It is about presence. The kind that makes the rest of the world a little quieter. The kind that allows two people to meet without disguise. The kind that leaves you feeling seen rather than managed.
I do this because it feels real. Because connection matters to me. Because being understood and chosen is as meaningful to me as offering the same in return.
And if you are here, reading this, something in you has already stepped closer. If you wish to continue, you know how to reach me.