In a starkly honest and deeply personal session, public figure and social media influencer Mia Khalifa—who introduced herself by her given name, Sarah—took the stage at the Oxford Union. Rather than engaging in political debate or promoting a persona, the conversation was a candid exploration of identity, the pressures of the adult film industry, mental health advocacy, and the long, difficult road to reclaiming her own narrative.
Identity, Internalized Racism, and the Search for Self
Sarah began by recounting her early life as an immigrant in the United States, an experience profoundly shaped by the political climate following 9/11. Having moved to Washington D.C., near the Pentagon, her heavy accent and Middle Eastern background immediately marked her as different. She described the experience as navigating pervasive hysteria and the ostracism that followed, confessing it led her to develop deep-seated internalized racism and anxiety.
Her initial coping mechanism was to become a people-pleaser. It wasn’t until her mid-twenties, when she started therapy, that she was finally able to label and process the confusion, anxiety, and internalized shame that had characterized her youth. She expressed regret over the years she spent hating who she was and suppressing her Lebanese culture, stressing the importance of nurturing one’s heritage.
The Adult Industry: Coercion, Contracts, and the Hijab Incident
The discussion moved to the few months she spent in the adult film industry. Sarah was candid about the lack of boundaries and autonomy she experienced, highlighting how easily her identity was coerced to fulfill a particular fetish. A key example was the demand for a scene involving a hijab.
She recalled being in a room full of “middle-aged white men in suits”, and despite voicing her fear—”you’re gonna get me killed, this is insane”—she felt pressured and lacked the confidence to say no or walk away.
The regret, she stated, was immediate. The moment her work became public, she was hit with the “gravity of it”, realizing what she had done could never be undone. Her attempt to leave the industry and live a “normal life”—working as a paralegal and bookkeeper—was thwarted by her notoriety, as her presence in any office caused whispers and disruption. This inability to simply be “Sarah” led her to take a leap of faith back into the public eye.
Reclaiming the Narrative: Mia vs. Sarah
The decision to embrace her public name, Mia Khalifa, rather than dissociate, was a complex act of defiance and autonomy.
“You can’t take it away from me. I created it… I have considered going by Sarah so many times, but at the end of the day, why? Why? Because some people are mad that I’m not proud of my past? But it’s the reason that I have a platform. Well, it’s not the reason I’m still relevant. I’ve worked my ass off for that. So I’m gonna keep the name.”
This ownership allowed her to reconcile her complex past. Her growing confidence, she explained, came from being comfortable with the contradictory truth that she is Mia Khalifa, while simultaneously being a woman who is not proud of her past and does not want it perpetuated.
Her biggest surprise in her new career came from stumbling upon a large, unexpected female audience on TikTok. Being vulnerable online connected her to millions of women in similar mindsets, providing validation and changing her goals and sense of what was possible. She noted that the overwhelming relatability of her story is a sad testament to the vast misogyny that forces many women into feelings of inadequacy and a struggle with personal boundaries.
Advocacy, Reform, and Ethical Consumption
Sarah used her platform to advocate for significant reforms in the adult industry, proposing two key legal changes:
- Raise the Age of Consent: She argued for increasing the minimum age for signing an adult contract from 18 to 21, noting that 18-year-olds often make rash decisions before their frontal cortex is fully formed.
- Abolish “In Perpetuity”: She demanded the removal of the term “in perpetuity” from all performer contracts, arguing that no corporation should have such unlimited control over an individual’s image, especially given the predatory and unethical nature of the contracts presented to young women.
Regarding the rise of creator-owned platforms like OnlyFans, she called it the “lesser of the evils”. While these platforms can offer a safer, more ethical path for women who are already in sex work to transition away from exploitative environments like strip clubs or street work, she warned against the trend of glamorizing and encouraging it as a career path for women who have not yet entered the industry, calling such promotion “grooming”.
Her complex relationship with her home country was also addressed, particularly her experience donating money after the Beirut port explosion. She was initially met with a negative backlash—”we don’t want your dirty money”—but found hope in the overwhelming support that followed, which came largely from people in Lebanon she respected.
The Future and Final Wisdom
Looking ahead, Sarah revealed she is launching a jewelry line called Shaytan—Arabic for “devil”—as a definitive “middle finger” to the men of the Middle East who have judged her. She is excited to finally be a “first time business owner” and create a tangible asset she can pass down to future children.
In closing, she offered a powerful final piece of advice to the young, intelligent audience:
“Everything that you’re looking for is inside of you… Confidence is really just listening to you and what your morals are and what your values are and what you want out of your life and implementing that. That’s literally what confidence is. It’s not having a good hair day… it’s truly just being secure in the choices you’ve made.”
About The Author
