Tanya Khaleel Interview
Q. You describe your work as breaking taboos. What’s one 'taboo' you think people don’t even realize is holding them back in their personal lives?
Sex! That’s why it’s my main focus. It’s wild how much sex actually shapes our day-to-day lives and even our decision-making. I always say humans were born with two natural urges: to eat and to reproduce. Just like society struggles with food (look at how massive the diet industry is), it’s the same with sex. The key is developing a healthy relationship with it, not one of fear or addiction.
Q. In India, conversations about intimacy are often loaded with silence. Have you ever had a moment where silence in a room said more than words could?
All the time! A look, a scoff, or even just a raised eyebrow can say so much here. I was 23 when I came to India by myself for the first time. Coming from a culture that’s far less conservative, I didn’t realize how outfits, body language, or even genuine friendliness could be taken so differently here. I really struggled with that at the time, especially since it was during COVID, when there were way fewer foreigners, meaning fewer people who could relate and make me feel less crazy.
Q. You speak across cultures—India, the US, and Canada. Which cultural perspective on intimacy has surprised you the most, and why?
Every place is different, but the two extremes I’ve experienced are India and Jamaica. Both cultures share similarities in many ways, but when it comes to sex, Jamaica is as hypersexual as India is conservative. It was wild to experience, and both ends have their pros and cons.
I put India above Middle Eastern countries I’ve visited because it’s such a contradiction - it’s weirdly conservative and sexual at the same time. In the Middle East, sex is more hush-hush overall, whereas India simultaneously has the Kama Sutra and deeply repressed sexuality. To this day, I’m constantly shocked by the contradictions in how intimacy is viewed here.
Q. Your videos manage to be bold without being crass, educational without being preachy. What’s the invisible line you refuse to cross when creating content?
Aww thank you! For me, the key is that I don’t get to define what’s right or wrong for someone else. My goal is to remove judgment and shame from taboo topics, and give people space to make their own decisions without outside opinions weighing them down.
The only thing I consider truly 'wrong' is harming another being. Beyond that, I don’t label things as good or bad, I treat them as neutral. Whether I’m talking about drugs, sex, or religion, I share what has worked for me and why, rather than presenting it as the 'right' choice. People are allowed to make different choices from mine, and I would never call them wrong for that.
Q. 'Everyone deserves pleasure' is a radical statement in a society that often frames pleasure as shameful. Was there a single story or experience that cemented this belief for you?
Yes! I was 18 and had come to India with my family, right after high school, still figuring out who I wanted to be, what I wanted to do. One day at a family event my uncle started lecturing me about how I should choose the most prestigious college, a high-paying major, and just work like crazy until I retire. When I asked him, “But what about the things I actually want to do?” he said, “You can do all that when you retire.”
That blew my mind, and what shocked me more was how my mom, her siblings, and everyone around agreed with him. How could so many fully adults believe that? And reaching 65 isn’t even guaranteed! Why would they encourage me to postpone joy until then? But when I actually said this out loud, my uncle told me that THAT was such a pessimistic view of life.
But in that moment I took a look around at everyone agreeing with him and I noticed one thing: none of them had a life I wanted to live. So why would I take advice from them?
To me, a life without pleasure is a life without meaning. My ambition, passion, drive, and zest for life all come from the pleasure I find in what I do.
Q. Much of your work feels like unlearning—unlearning shame, fear, and scripts. What’s one thing you yourself had to unlearn while teaching others?
That my purpose isn’t just to please others. It’s not my responsibility to make anyone else happy. I remember being 22 and practicing something as small as not laughing at jokes I didn’t find funny.
It sounds minor, but I realized how much energy I had spent entertaining people (especially men, probably from years of waitressing in sports bars) laughing just to make them feel good. And for what? I wasn’t gaining anything.
Unlearning those social pressures and replacing them with authenticity has been one of the hardest, but also the most rewarding, shifts I’ve made.
Q. Trolls and censorship come with the territory when talking about intimacy online. What’s been your most memorable response, positive or negative, that made you pause and think?
I knew I’d get hate when I started, that was part of the point. I wanted to speak about what most people couldn’t without fear of judgment from society or family. I’m privileged not to have to worry about that.
Hate never really got to me, except once in the very beginning. I felt really low and turned to ChatGPT about it, and it told me: the fact that my content gets hate means it’s powerful enough to affect people, powerful enough to demand a reaction. It means I’m ruffling feathers, and that was my intention all along.
I’m not here to entertain people. I’m here to spark change. And transformation is rarely comfortable. Resistance is inevitable. As they say, hate isn’t the opposite of love, indifference is.
Q. Imagine you could design a museum exhibit on intimacy, what’s the first object or story you’d put on display?
Shibari. I’m obsessed with it! Not only because it’s visually stunning, but because of what it symbolizes. I’d start with a sculpture: one figure completely naked, bound, and blindfolded. The master stands behind them, a hand around their neck. The most important detail would be the expressions: the bound figure looks utterly at ease, radiating trust, while the master’s face is calm, gentle, yet quietly awestruck by the beauty before him.
Beside the sculpture, I’d place a simple board with a safe word written on it. Because the heart of this scene isn’t the rope or the dominance, it’s the paradox of control. The one who’s tied is utterly helpless and vulnerable, yet they hold the ultimate power: the moment they speak the word, everything ends.
Meanwhile, the master is playing his own game of restraint. Though he holds the physical upper hand, he carries the weight of responsibility. No matter how lustful his impulses, true mastery means staying composed. He’s only as good a master as the happiness and comfort of his submissive.
To me, it’s a yin and yang of power: two forces in perfect balance: vulnerability as strength, and control as devotion.
Bio:
Acid Rani is a sex and dating coach who breaks taboos with bold honesty. Born in Canada and now based in India, she’s a world traveler who brings her diverse experiences into raw conversations about controversial topics like sex, drugs, and religion. Through her unfiltered storytelling, she creates a space where people can rethink love and desire without shame. Her mission is simple: to shift how we see intimacy, showing that real freedom begins when we stop letting society decide what we can and can’t want.
Interviewed by - Divya Darshni
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