For 10 years, I have worked in the BL industry as an independent creator, filmmaker, writer, and director. And the truth is, what people usually see from the outside is only a very small part of the story.

People see the poster.

They see the actors.

They see the views.

They see the finished work.

But they do not always see the pressure, the politics, the silence, the pain, the unfairness, and the emotional damage that can happen behind the scenes.


Before I say anything else,

I want to make one thing very clear: this article is not an attack on anyone. I am not writing this to expose names, shame anyone, or start drama. I know many of the things I went through are deeply connected to the culture and traditions of the industry. I know some people are simply trying to survive in a system they were taught to follow. I may not always understand it, and I may not agree with it, but I understand that this system exists.

So when I look back at everything, I blame myself more than I blame anyone else. I trusted too easily. I believed too quickly. I stayed quiet too many times. I followed people because I was taught that older people knew better, that respected people must be right, and that if I worked hard enough and stayed polite enough, things would eventually become fair.

Life taught me otherwise.

Still, I am grateful. Truly. Because everything I went through made me stronger, wiser, and more careful. And if I am sharing this now, it is not because I want revenge. It is because I want honesty. I want growth. I want peace. I want to be better than I was before. And I believe I am.


These are just 10 things out of thousands of things that happened to me during my 10 years in the BL industry. Honestly, these 10 things are probably only about 5% of what I have faced.

I BLAMED NO ONE

〰️

I BLAMED NO ONE 〰️

1. I Never Really Felt Supported

by My Own Country

One of the hardest truths for me to accept was this: I never really felt supported by my own country.

Maybe my ideas looked too big. Maybe my projects seemed too impossible. Maybe people thought I was dreaming too much. And honestly, they had every right to doubt me if they wanted to. I understand that. I understand why some people did not believe in me.

But I still did it anyway.

I kept creating.

I kept pushing.

I kept believing in my own work, even when other people did not.

And now, more than 300 million views later, I think that says enough. That number is not just a number. It is proof that my vision was real, that my work mattered, and that I was not foolish for believing in myself. And honestly, I think that is pretty cool.

2. I Was Convinced to

Sell My Rights for Only $400

One of the earliest painful lessons I learned was about rights, contracts, and trust.

At one point, I was convinced to sell the rights to one of my works for only $400 USD. I was told that this small amount would later turn into $400,000 USD. I believed it because the people telling me were respected in the industry. They knew how to talk. They knew how to make things sound exciting and possible. And I was young, hopeful, and trusting.

I believed the dream.

But the bigger money never came. It stayed at $400. That was it. I ended up locked into a contract that gave me almost nothing in return. That experience changed the way I look at business, promises, and power.

3. I Never Received My Box Office

or Theater Money

Another painful truth is that I never received money from the box office or theater screenings for the films I created.

Even now, I still do not fully understand why.

I asked questions. I submitted documents. I followed up. I gave them everything they asked for. I tried to do everything properly. But the money never came. No clear answer, no real solution, no proper closure.

It has been 10 years.

So sometimes I still ask myself: was that money ever really in the system? Or was it never there at all? I honestly do not know. But what I do know is that not receiving what you earned leaves a deep wound, especially when you worked so hard to create something meaningful.

4. I Was Told in Public That

I Would Never Be Successful

I remember one moment that still stays with me.

I created a series, and the producer told me in front of more than 100 staff that I would never be successful. They said the show would fail. They said my career was over. And yes, I cried that day.

But when the first episode came out, I promoted it with everything I had. I begged people to watch it. I pushed because I believed in the show. And that series became the second most-watched show of the year.

But even then, people still found a way to turn it against me. Instead of saying I did a good job, they said I was desperate for attention because I promoted it too much.

That was one of the biggest lessons of my life: sometimes even when you win, some people will still try to make you feel like you lost.

5. People Took Credit

For Work, I Created

There were times when I watched people stand on stage and talk about my work as if they had created it themselves. There were times when behind-the-scenes stories were made up. There were times when my role became smaller in public, even though I knew the truth.

And when I tried to speak up, I was treated like I was just asking for attention.

That part hurt deeply because I was not asking for praise. I was not asking for special treatment. I only wanted one simple thing: the truth. I wanted my work to exist under my own name. I wanted people to know that the shows I created were actually mine.

Some fans were even surprised to find out that I was the real creator behind certain projects. That says a lot.

6. I Was Blamed for Things

I Never Controlled

I used to believe that the producer handled the money, the business, and the management, while the director handled creativity and storytelling. That made sense to me.

But at times, when producers failed to manage money properly, somehow the blame came to me. People said I used the money, even though I never touched it. I was focused on directing, not handling the finances. Still, blame is easy to throw when people need someone to carry the weight.

That confusion and unfairness followed me more than once.

7. I Used My Own Money

and Still Got Pushed Out


There was a project where I was invited to direct one of the most anticipated shows at that time. I believed in it so much that I even asked my own partner for funding support because I was told the producer was waiting for money from another client.

So I used my own money to help keep the project alive.

I managed to shoot around 50% of the show. Then I learned the producer never really had the money from the beginning. After that, a new investor came in, and that investor already had their own director. I was removed.

And somehow, people were told that I was corrupt.

Until today, I still do not understand how people created that story. But I do understand how quickly the truth can be twisted when power is involved.

8. I Saw Cruelty Used

as Marketing

One of the darkest things I saw in the industry was the use of destruction as promotion.

Competition is normal. Wanting your series to succeed is normal. But I saw situations where people crossed a line I could never accept. A private video of an actor doing something deeply personal was leaked and used online as promotion.

To me, that is not marketing. That is exploitation.

I never wanted to build success that way. I never wanted to hurt another human being just to get views. I never wanted to use shame, humiliation, or cruelty to make a project more famous.

9. Sometimes Even “Support.”

Broke My Heart

This is something I only fully understood later, and it hurt me differently.

I am not saying every fan is like this. Please do not misunderstand me. I know many people have supported me with real love, kindness, and respect, and I will always be grateful for that. But I also started to realize that many of the people who came to see me were not really coming to see me.

What they really wanted was access to the actors.

And that broke my heart more than I expected.

Sometimes, I felt less like a creator people cared about and more like a bridge they had to cross to get closer to someone else. Like I was only valuable because I could lead them to the actor they really wanted to meet. Not because they cared about me as a person. Not because they wanted to ask how I was doing. Not because they wanted to know what I was carrying inside.

I remember one moment very clearly. A person came from far away to visit me and said he was my fan, that he loved my work. But he never even asked me how I was. He only wanted to see the actor. And once I was no longer useful in helping him get closer to that person, he disappeared. He stopped talking to me completely.

That experience stayed with me.

And the painful part is, it was not just one person. I started to notice this pattern more and more. Again, not from everyone, but from enough people that it changed the way I saw things. It made me realize that sometimes people do not really see the creator. They only see what the creator can give them access to.

That kind of pain makes you feel small. It makes you question your place. It makes you wonder if people love your work or if they only love what your work can bring them.

I do not say this with anger. I say it with honesty. Because it truly hurt me. And it is one of the reasons I became more careful with people, more distant, and more protective of my heart.

10. Some of the People I Respected

Most Tried to Break Me

Maybe one of the most painful truths is this: sometimes the people you respect the most are the ones who try hardest to destroy you.

Some people are comfortable seeing you do well, but not better than them. They are fine with your survival, but not your rise. They are fine with your effort, but not your shine.

And when you start getting close to real success, they begin to pull, judge, block, or erase.

I understand that more now than I ever wanted to.


For the Past 3 Years, I have become afraid of People

And maybe this is the part that is hardest for me to admit.

For the past three years, I have become someone who is afraid to meet new people.

If someone makes me feel unsafe or if I feel like I cannot trust them, I usually avoid them. I do not go out much. I do not put myself around people easily anymore. I became afraid of being judged. Afraid of being hated before people even know me. Afraid that others already assume the worst, already think I am difficult, already believe things about me that are not true.

That kind of fear changes the way you live.

It makes you smaller.

It makes you quieter.

It makes you more careful.

But at the end of the day, I keep telling myself: who cares?

Not in a rude way. In a freeing way.

Because I cannot build my life around other people’s assumptions. I cannot spend the rest of my future trying to prove myself to people who have already decided not to trust me. I cannot keep living in fear of judgment. I want to be a better person, not a more broken one.

That is part of why I am sharing this.

I am not sharing it because I want pity. I am sharing it because I want honesty. I want growth. I want peace. I want to stop carrying things in silence. And I want to say this clearly: I am a better person than I was before.

I have more perspective now. More boundaries. More self-respect. More truth.

These 10 Things Are Only a Small Part of It

Honestly, these 10 things are maybe only 5% of

What I have faced in the BL industry.

But they are enough to explain why I changed. Why I became more guarded. Why I became more careful. Why I started protecting myself, my work, my energy, and my future more seriously.

They are also enough to explain why I still keep going.

Because despite all of it, I am still here.

STILL CREATING. STILL LEARNING. STILL INDEPENDENT.

STILL TRYING TO BECOME BETTER, NOT BITTER.

And that matters.

Why I’m Sharing This Now

I am sharing this because I do not want to hide behind silence anymore. I do not want people to see only the polished version of success and think the journey was easy. It was not easy. It was painful, messy, unfair, confusing, and deeply human.

But I survived it.
And if my story helps even one independent artist feel less alone, then maybe all of this honesty is worth it.

If you would like to support an independent artist like me, you can visit my Buy Me a Coffee page or scan the QR code connected to this post.

There is no pressure. Truly.

I understand the world is hard right now. I know people are struggling. So only support if you want to, and only if you can.

But if you believe in my journey, my work, and the future I am still trying to build, I would be deeply thankful.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for listening.

And thank you for giving independent creators a reason to keep going.

Aam Anusorn Soisa-ngim

Aam Anusorn is an independent filmmaker and storyteller with a decade of experience in the industry. As the founder and CEO of Commetive By Aam, he has directed and produced several acclaimed films and series, including the popular "Till The World Ends" and "#2moons2." Known for his creative vision and determination, Aam prefers crafting original stories that push the boundaries of traditional genres, particularly in the BL and LGBTQ+ spaces. Despite the challenges and pressures of working in a competitive field, Aam’s passion for storytelling drives him to explore new ideas and bring unique narratives to life. His work has garnered recognition and support from prestigious platforms, including the Tokyo Gap Financial Market. Aam continues to inspire audiences with his innovative approach to filmmaking, always staying true to his belief in the power of original, heartfelt stories.

https://Commetivebyaam.com
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