Date: April 28, 2025
Author: Maxine W. Richardson
It’s funny how one small decision can come back to haunt you years later.
I’m not the same person I was back then, but sometimes it feels like my past still follows me around. A few years ago, I was active on DeviantArt, sharing all sorts of art, mostly of my favorite monster characters from various franchises. I was in my early teens, figuring out what I liked, what kind of art I enjoyed creating. Some of it was harmless, fun fanart, but there was one piece that I now wish I had never made.
It was a drawing of myself with a monster from a well-known series. Without getting into too much detail (because I don’t want to be easily identified), let’s just say it involved a certain Digimon character. At the time, I thought it was just a harmless little creative project, something I was doing for fun. But looking back now, I realize that it crossed a line. It was borderline NSFW—nothing too explicit, but definitely not something I’d want to be associated with now.
The problem was that I signed it with my old username, one I used for everything back then. And even though I tried to get most of my past art removed over the years, there’s still one piece that the admins won’t take down. No matter how many times I’ve reported it or tried to explain, it’s still out there, lingering like a ghost from my past. I don’t even know why I’m so embarrassed by it now. I was young, naive, and just exploring my creativity in the only way I knew how.
But here’s the thing—there’s always that possibility that someone could find it, see it, and twist it into something it wasn’t meant to be. I’m aware that someone could easily say, “Well, MetalGraymon isn’t human, so this artist must be advocating for some weird, inappropriate thing,” which, honestly, is the furthest thing from the truth. I was never trying to make a statement, never trying to push some agenda. It was just… art. Or at least, I thought it was.
As the years have gone by, I’ve matured. I’m no longer that person. I’ve realized that some things just don’t belong in the public eye. Art is a form of self-expression, but not all expressions need to be shared forever. I’ve learned to be more mindful of what I put out there and how it might be interpreted by others. Looking at that piece now feels like looking at a version of myself I don’t recognize—one that I don’t even want to remember.
But there’s not much I can do about it now. The damage is done, and that drawing is still out there. Every once in a while, I get a ping on my old account, and I worry that someone else will stumble across it. I’ve come to terms with it in some ways, but there’s always that nagging feeling of regret. It’s a reminder that I’m not perfect, that I’ve made mistakes, and that I can’t undo them.
