
Content warning: This post contains mentions of domestic violence and may be triggering to some readers.
My friends were shocked — to say the least — when I finally told them about this story. They said things like “But you’re so powerful and independent” and “I see you as such a feminist though.” But how this story played out wasn’t because of my stand on specific issues; it was a deep void of self-worth that I didn’t know I lacked.
Back in 2016, I was freshly back in the United States, experiencing reverse culture shock and overwhelming stress to find my first career job. I spent the past two years living around the world. I was a free-spirited, ambitious college student and figured out ways to make money while I lived in four different countries.
Now that I was back in America, I began my job search. I landed a job doing marketing for a health food snack company in Santa Monica. The team was small, practically non-existent. I was the third hire. It was me, the CEO, and a sales guy we’ll call Smith.
Due to the small nature of our company, Smith and I quickly became close and eventually friends, even hanging out outside of work. Smith was 12 years my senior. He had a tall, semi-in-shape-dad bod physique with grey hairs speckled throughout his beard. Smith exuded confidence but almost in an egotistical way. That kind of demeanour bodes well for sales though.
I only lasted at this job for seven months before the position started to change to e-commerce and I quickly realised that the lack of management wasn’t well-suited for my entry-level experience. By the time I made this decision, Smith and I were basically best friends; we got along exceptionally.