Ever since I was a little girl, I never felt enough. Not pretty enough. Not smart enough. Not thin enough.
Bathrooms were my thing. I knew every bathroom — good ones and bad ones — from East to West Los Angeles, and I always kept the tip of a McDonald’s straw in my purse to snort the meth. Nobody ever caught me stealing or using. Underneath everything was self-hatred. Shame. Isolation. I remember looking at a photo of myself as a 6-year-old that I kept on the table beside my bed and thinking she would be so disappointed in the woman I’d become. She looked so sad in the photo, and I imagined it was because of what I was doing to myself — to her. I finally had to put her face down in my closet, where we couldn’t see each other.
Having never been a drinker — and having used meth, which I considered infinitely worse for me, for so long — I was not worried about wine. I had no fear that one glass would turn into a bottle and that bottle would turn into two. But that’s what happened, and it happened fast.Two-Buck Chuck at Trader Joe’s became my thing. “Having another party?” the grocery clerks asked. I began to go to different locations to avoid their questions and suspicion.Alcohol quickly replaced the meth.
One afternoon while drunk, I placed a Craigslist ad looking for a sugar daddy. I told myself it wasn’t sex work — that I was just looking for an “exclusive,” mutually beneficial arrangement. I found two eligible men. I met both of them twice a week for the next three months. I drank more and more. I threw myself away over and over again.I hit a breaking point. I hated myself more than I ever thought possible and finally began to look for help.
I kept coming back and listening to women talk about their deepest, darkest secrets, and how they eventually turned their lives around. I’ll never forget a woman who pointed one of her long, purple, sparkly nails at me and said in a raspy voice, “Honey, a time will come when you will no longer regret the past or wish to shut the door on it.” I wanted to believe her — to someday have all of the pain that I’d been through be worth something — but I wasn’t sure she was right.
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