How I Killed My Inner Girlboss, Part 3
Part 3
On the outside, I was getting better. I was on the inside, too.
The first person who noticed was a friend we’ll call Melissa. I had met Melissa on Tumblr, of all places, and when I moved to Portland in 2015 and realized she also lived in Portland, I hit her up. It turned out that my roommate, the owner of the house I moved into with my boyfriend, was also her favorite high school teacher. Everything felt very fated. I was very certain that Portland was Where I’m Supposed To Be.
I was enamored with the city, and Melissa being from a small town just south of Portland meant that I had a tour guide and instant friend. We would spend time at her childhood house with her parents and dogs and two pet rats, smoking weed and painting together on the floor of her bedroom. She had a strong family unit that supported her, lots of friends in Portland from living in the same place her entire life, and a good head on her shoulders. I trusted Melissa, is what I am saying, and I believed her to be a good influence in my life. In March 2017, Melissa came over to hang out and smoke weed with me at the apartment I was still sharing with my ex.
Yes, we broke up in December. The lease wasn’t over until April and we both couldn’t afford to move any sooner than that. At that point, though, I basically lived alone because our roommate was constantly at his girlfriend’s house and my ex had become so afraid of me that he was staying with a friend across town.
Those few weeks were precious, albeit lonely. I had jumped right back into searching for a sugar daddy, which was something I did prior to getting with my ex. I saw it more as a financial strategy than a pastime, because I had given up a lot of income when I quit sex work to be with him. Sometimes I think I would have stayed in LA and eventually gotten myself into some kind of trouble with the route that I was taking in sex work, if I hadn’t fallen for him and run away to Portland together. So, while he was generally a huge waste of my time, that relationship probably saved my life.
I was at my thinnest I had been since high school and generally feeling pretty good about myself. The drugs from my birthday had run out, and I was starting to rediscover some hobbies. I had a handful of adventures with several different sugar daddies in those few months, and I was beginning to imagine my life long-term. Maybe I’ll just marry someone who’s lonely and rich enough. I was obviously jaded from the heartbreak I had just experienced, so I wasn’t particularly disappointed in the prospect of a loveless marriage, as long as the money was there. I started to imagine that maybe I wasn’t meant for the “crust-punk line cook’s girlfriend” lifestyle I had been living in Portland since I moved there. Maybe I was meant for more. I wanted to run a business, make my own money, even if that meant pulling some maneuvers to get the ball rolling (AKA dating and marrying rich). I was beginning to remember the ambitious teenager who dreamt of being a renowned journalist, musician, producer, and starting to revitalize her dreams to match my 23-year-old ambitions.
When Melissa came over that day in late March, nothing of note occurred. We smoked in the backyard, then sat in my room with all of my boxes and I told her how I was ready for the next chapter of my life, I was ready to get out of this apartment (even though it was cheap and gorgeous and conveniently located), I was ready to begin living without the dead weight of that man. She was happy for me, although she never disparaged my ex’s actions, and said she was excited to spend more time together.
After she left, a few hours passed and I got a text from her. It was something along the lines of, “I’m super excited for you and this new chapter. I’d love for you to meet some of my friends. They’re really well-connected and have helped me a lot, they even helped me find my current job. Can I pass your number along to them?” Confused, I responded asking if they were gonna help me find a new job, because I didn’t want one. She said no, it was nothing like that. Just more networking and building connections.
Well, shit, I thought. What do I have to lose? Maybe this is what I actually came to Portland for.
Read part 4 here.
