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Chapter 8

The way that I was treated by these "men" really started to harden my heart more. I was a complete asshole at work to customers and people I wasn't friends with. I stopped wearing the collared uniform and started wearing regular black tees with offensive writing on them on purpose, for what purpose I really don't know. One particular complaint I got was over a shirt I wore that said "cheerleaders suck" Lol. I thought it was lame because that was probably the least offensive shirt I owned.
The thing was, my boss lived in a different state so even though it was in Target the photo lab was owned by a different company. So I would mouth off to the Target supervisors without fear of being fired.
This was me giving back what I felt like I received from people that I wanted to be loved by.

My circle of friends hung out at work a lot even when we weren't scheduled. My friend with benefits that only thought I was mature enough to put his dick inside was an undercover security person at Target. You know the people in regular clothes that walk around the store? That guy.
Anyway, I was at work one day and he was off. He was chopping it up with one of our mutual friends that was a front of the store security person, the guys with actual rent a cop uniforms.
The "new girl" stopped by the customer service desk, which was right next to me, to pick up her check. I knew what his flirting looked like and that's what he was doing right in front of me. When she left he continued to talk about how hot she was with our mutual friend, right in front of me. It stung me a littler harder because she was Hispanic. HEAR ME OUT YALL!
Growing up I had always felt compared to and conditioned to think that they were THE standard of beauty because my step mom, sisters & cousins were all beautiful Hispanic women.
And all I picked up as a kid and young teen was that I didn't look like them so I had to watch what I ate, drank and wore my entire life.
So that was definitely a trigger for me back then. Because my white ass was NEVER going to be an olive or brown skinned goddess. I tried though, by dying my hair black for years and lying in tanning beds.

I think I stayed in Monterey for around a year before my roommate friend and her husband moved to Washington. They gave me the choice to move with them. But being the immature, ignorant, unhealed, dummy that I was at 20 I wanted  to stay and fight for a man that did not want me.
I had become pretty close to my roommate friend's niece this whole time. She was a few years younger than me but with my level of maturity we clicked really well and her mom also liked me. So they let me move in with them when my roommate friend left for Washington. It wasn't a long stay. Everyday it became more and more clear that this man was never going to commit to me and all I focused on and obsessed over was him, what he was doing and who he was doing it with. I didn't focus on looking for work or anything to better my own life.

This part of my life is so humiliating but I know I need to get through this bullshit to heal fully.
But let me tell you, my ego is fuming with shame as I write this chapter.

I don't remember how everything occurred exactly but he officially started dating the new girl. That was a slap in the face to say the least. I was left feeling abandoned & unworthy but it's not like that was anything new in my life.
At the same time the people who I was living with were tired of me being unmotivated to do anything with myself, understandably.
So I broke down one day and called my dad & begged to come home. I remember being so hurt I could not even stand being in the same city as my ex friend with benefits.
My last day in Monterey was spent with him. Of course he had to get it in one last time and I let him. 🙄 And in turn he was the one who dropped me off at the bus station.

The only part of the conversation I remember between my dad and I was that we all agreed to a clean slate and fresh start. And I was going to come down there and work towards joining the Air force now. When I got back to Southern California my dad picked me up at the bus station by hisself. The first thing he did was take me to a tattoo shop to have my nose ring taken out. It was an all too familiar feeling of being controlled and having absolutely no say over my body or looks STILL at 20 years old. And for the first time in my life my step mom was actually concerned about how skinny I was. I felt like I was in the twilight zone.
In just a couple of weeks it was back to babysitting, applying for jobs on base, going to church, bible studies and volunteering at the pregnancy center again.
On my 21st birthday we attended someone else's party. It was a 6 year olds and he was a very close friends of my parents grandson.
I was sitting outside at the party kind of bummed that no one gave shit about my birthday. One of their friends sons who was around 10 years older than me sat down and started taking to me. I had a HUGE crush on him. He had full tattoo sleeves and dressed kinda like a greaser. He even drove a murdered out 1950's something truck, murdered out means All Matte black everything for those who aren't car enthusiasts 😉
He told me that he heard I was looking for a job.
He did marketing for Transworld Magazine, for those who don't know, it was (not sure if it still is now) a HUGE skateboarding magazine. He said they were looking for someone to work the front desk and he thought I was perfect for it. My dad came out at that point and joined the convo. He acted grateful for the offer and said we would talk about it. But we didn't talk about it, they wouldn't let me do it because they assumed the environment would be too secular for me. They treated me like I was some sort of recovering addict because I ventured out into the world and lived a normal ass life for a year. I was really disappointed.
And starting to notice the same patterns beginning again that I grew up hating so much.