There was a time when the Creator Program at IMVU had a clear path to success. The payout system was based on reasonable metrics—sales, peer reviews, and actual engagement. Now, that structure has been buried under layer after layer of confusing requirements, shifting standards, and unreasonable expectations that seem designed to benefit the platform, not the people who build it.
As a creator who has been here for nearly two decades, I’ve witnessed these changes firsthand. I remember when we didn’t need to “go Next” or upload personal photos, give gifts, participate in forums, or constantly create room after room just to qualify for fair treatment or earn what we’re owed. What used to be a creative platform now feels more like an obstacle course designed to discourage rather than support.
What I don’t understand is how someone with just 38 items in their catalog can receive Pro status, while someone like myself—who has made thousands—has had their status lowered without any clear reason. I have the proof, and the inconsistency is frustrating to witness. It’s not transparent, and it’s certainly not fair.
Worse, you've added features like “Next,” “VCoins,” and “AP+,” all while enforcing more rules around credits, transfers, and account verification. You ask for more, expect more, and give less. You even restrict us from sending credits to our own alternate accounts without jumping through hoops and re-verifying—then justify it under the claim of “protecting community standards.” But whose standards? And how does restricting my own earned credits have anything to do with someone else’s community experience?
At the same time, it’s clear some users are exploiting loopholes—linking multiple accounts, stacking peer reviews, and gaming your system. Yet the honest creators, the ones who actually play by the rules, are the ones being punished with delays, limits, and excessive requirements. I don’t play that game. I never have. But I’m tired of being forced to compete with it.
And let’s talk numbers. When we price an item at 300 credits, we walk away with roughly 0.012 of a penny. That is our cut. For our design, our time, and our investment. Meanwhile, you collect your share instantly. And if we dare to slow down or refuse to meet a quota, we’re penalized with status drops or payout restrictions. You control everything: the process, the rules, the payouts, even our catalogs. If something goes wrong—such as "fake credits"—the blame should fall on the system that allows it, not the creators who rely on you for a fair and functioning environment.
You ask creators to “make more to get more.” But I’ve made more, and I’ve received less.
I’m not here to be rude. I’m here to ask—firmly but respectfully—for accountability and change. I don't need links to community forums where feedback is often deleted or buried. I need answers. I need fairness. And above all, I need the compensation I’ve earned through hard work.
You have every right to update your Terms of Service. But with that right comes the responsibility to treat your creators with dignity and respect. If you showed even a small amount of kindness and consistency, I believe you’d be surprised how many of us would actually defend this platform instead of dreading it.
For now, I will continue doing what I came here to do: create and earn a living. But I will not stay silent while being buried under policies that serve no one but the platform.
There was a time when the Creator Program at IMVU had a clear path to success. The payout system was based on reasonable metrics—sales, peer reviews, and actual engagement. Now, that structure has been buried under layer after layer of confusing requirements, shifting standards, and unreasonable expectations that seem designed to benefit the platform, not the people who build it.
As a creator who has been here for nearly two decades, I’ve witnessed these changes firsthand. I remember when we didn’t need to “go Next” or upload personal photos, give gifts, participate in forums, or constantly create room after room just to qualify for fair treatment or earn what we’re owed. What used to be a creative platform now feels more like an obstacle course designed to discourage rather than support.
What I don’t understand is how someone with just 38 items in their catalog can receive Pro status, while someone like myself—who has made thousands—has had their status lowered without any clear reason. I have the proof, and the inconsistency is frustrating to witness. It’s not transparent, and it’s certainly not fair.
Worse, you've added features like “Next,” “VCoins,” and “AP+,” all while enforcing more rules around credits, transfers, and account verification. You ask for more, expect more, and give less. You even restrict us from sending credits to our own alternate accounts without jumping through hoops and re-verifying—then justify it under the claim of “protecting community standards.” But whose standards? And how does restricting my own earned credits have anything to do with someone else’s community experience?
At the same time, it’s clear some users are exploiting loopholes—linking multiple accounts, stacking peer reviews, and gaming your system. Yet the honest creators, the ones who actually play by the rules, are the ones being punished with delays, limits, and excessive requirements. I don’t play that game. I never have. But I’m tired of being forced to compete with it.
And let’s talk numbers. When we price an item at 300 credits, we walk away with roughly 0.012 of a penny. That is our cut. For our design, our time, and our investment. Meanwhile, you collect your share instantly. And if we dare to slow down or refuse to meet a quota, we’re penalized with status drops or payout restrictions. You control everything: the process, the rules, the payouts, even our catalogs. If something goes wrong—such as "fake credits"—the blame should fall on the system that allows it, not the creators who rely on you for a fair and functioning environment.
You ask creators to “make more to get more.” But I’ve made more, and I’ve received less.
I’m not here to be rude. I’m here to ask—firmly but respectfully—for accountability and change. I don't need links to community forums where feedback is often deleted or buried. I need answers. I need fairness. And above all, I need the compensation I’ve earned through hard work.
You have every right to update your Terms of Service. But with that right comes the responsibility to treat your creators with dignity and respect. If you showed even a small amount of kindness and consistency, I believe you’d be surprised how many of us would actually defend this platform instead of dreading it.
For now, I will continue doing what I came here to do: create and earn a living. But I will not stay silent while being buried under policies that serve no one but the platform.
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