"I don't judge anyone who stays," she says carefully. "But the economics of fame have shattered. When I started, there was a clear line between the work and your life. Now? The audience expects 24/7 access. That level of 'thunder' would have broken me."
"I needed to detox from the noise," she admits. "For a decade, my body was the product. Now, my peace is the product." Since stepping back from performing in the mid-2010s, LaCroix has dedicated herself to the study of somatic therapy. Her home studio in the Pacific Northwest is a testament to her new ethos: cedar wood, weighted blankets, and a vinyl collection that ranges from Enya to Nick Cave.
"Thunder is loud. It’s disruptive. But it’s also natural," she explains, sipping herbal tea. "In my twenties, I was the lightning—fast, unpredictable, striking hard. Now, I’m learning to be the thunder. It rolls in slower, but you feel it in your chest. It commands respect without asking for permission." Thundercock - Remy LaCroix -24.09.2024-
The entertainment industry is notoriously unkind to those who leave it. Yet LaCroix has managed to pivot her brand from adult stardom to a legitimate lifestyle curator. She runs a small but devoted YouTube channel focused on sound baths and forest bathing—a far cry from her previous life, but one she insists is more authentic.
"I hit a wall," she recalls. "I realized I had spent years performing for the gaze of others. I didn’t know what I liked to eat, read, or wear when no one was watching." "I don't judge anyone who stays," she says carefully
As the sun sets on this September evening, Remy LaCroix stands up to adjust the needle on her record player. The first chords of a classical guitar fill the room. For a woman who once lived at the mercy of the crowd’s roar, she has finally found the volume that suits her soul.
"I tell them: The crowd will always cheer for the storm. But you have to live in the aftermath. What does your house look like when the rain stops?" Looking ahead to the rest of 2024 and beyond, LaCroix is focused on a single word: stillness . She is currently editing a short documentary about the therapeutic use of sensory deprivation tanks—a project she funded entirely through a modest Patreon following. "For a decade, my body was the product
"Thunder is just energy dissipating," she notes as our time wraps up. "It’s loud, yes. But it’s also the sound of pressure releasing. That’s what I want my legacy to be. Not the crash, but the release."