I’d dabbled in this life as a much younger woman. But it wasn’t until I was deep into a civvie job in media, on a Zoom meeting bored out of my mind listening to the ramblings of a client, who happened to be exceedingly wealthy… and exceedingly attractive… that I decided to go back to it for real.
My eyes were glazing over already; it was but noon and I had hours to go before I could sleep. And try as I might, showing interest in what this man had to say was getting harder by the minute.
It had been months since I’d written something of my own. Exercise, healthy meals, hobbies, fresh air… all evaded me in the relentless churn of work, work, work, creating projects that weren’t my own.
I wasn’t too into the project, but I liked his vivaciousness and his sparkling personality. I wanted to spend time with him. Of course, I was half his age, and he was married with kids, and I have no interest in such complications. But in a different context, a man like him? The thought crossed my mind: I wonder if he sees companions?
Then the thought came to me: This would be so much more pleasant if I were making ten times this amount… and instead of having to translate this idea (which I wasn’t very interested in on the face of it) into reality, my job was to put entirely other ideas into his head… and then I could go home after and write my stuff.
I worked the rest of the day and collapsed afterwards, exhausted. But that thought stuck with me.
There’s this illusion that if we are getting paid to do “what” we “love”, then we must be happy. And technically, I guess I was. But if you scratch beneath the surface of “what” to ask why, how, and how much, this was the reality: I was getting paid not nearly enough, working far too many hours, to use my passion in the service of someone else’s vision instead of my own. And I was burning out, fast.
The next day I quit that job. I explained it wasn’t for me. I didn’t have it in me.
It wasn’t really about that guy. I don’t know if he’d be a better client in this realm than he was in that. But he was who inspired me.
I’m a creator. But I want to create my own stuff. A relationship is like that. It’s a dance and I can decide what my moves are. Then I can go off and do my own dance too.
A few days later I made my Tryst profile.
