Eight months ago I walked away from a peachy, picture-perfect relationship in order to “find myself.” My ex and I had been together for seven years and were on the verge of engagement. We lived together. We had a dog. We even started saving baby clothes. Everything seemed planned out with precision until, one day – I got an unexpected phone call. A recruiter in Silicon Valley was seeking me out for a prestigious position at a top tech company. This opportunity was exactly what I had been dreaming of. Despite living 100+ miles away, I accepted the offer.
When I began my new job, I was suddenly surrounded by the elite working class. Every corner of campus was occupied by a new accent. I had never been exposed to so many brilliant, globally-diverse minds. My office floor alone was home to four startups acquired from countries across Europe and Asia.
Being in the Silicon Valley had a powerful impact on me. Maybe it was the surplus of tall, foreign men in leather boots or perhaps (more likely) it was the re-awakening of my inner career woman. Either way, each day I went off on my commute, I grew frantic with inner turmoil contemplating the pros and cons of staying with my ex. Was this it? Was I doomed to a lifelong dependence on Netflix and chill? Would I be having babies? Would I be arguing with his mother over what food to feed the kids?
Although every ounce of my rational mind told me to stay and take the safe route, the temptation of a new life was overwhelming and ever increasing in power. Most of my friends thought I was “just going through a phase,” and suggested I “wait it out.” They were wrong.
Within half a year, my darling relationship had completely crumbled. I couldn’t quell the curiosity of what things were like on the other side. I wanted material gain; I wanted sexual escapades, but most importantly: I wanted self-discovery.
After much deliberation, introspection, and self-doubt, I chose the unknown. Leaving a serious relationship for a legitimate “It’s not you. It’s me,” is wholly confusing – especially in your late twenties. You question everything about yourself. You wonder if you have an underlying personality disorder or a crippling case of commitment issues. You wonder if you’re a self-saboteur, destined to be forever alone. You ask, “What happens when I’m old?” Giving up my prospects for the future family that more than a few friends had been jealous of, gave me immense guilt. But I gave it up anyway – I gave it up on the haunting hunch that there was more for me out there. So what if I were a heartless person willing to abandon seven years of loyalty and security for selfish hypotheticals? Who cared if I no longer understood myself or my emotions? I took the plunge.
In the short time I’ve been single in the Silicon Valley, life has been saucy. I’ve started, ended, and re-started a myriad of trysts and imbroglios. I’ve encountered the polyamorous, the commitmentphobes, the family-freaks, the rich sociopaths, the socially awkward, the narcissists, the ghosters, the founder fuckboys, the Tinder terrorists, and the scandalous: coworker conundrums. I’ve seen a lot. I’ve been through a lot. And now it’s time to talk about it. After all of my dalliances, there is no way I could write about my affairs without:
A. Getting fired,
B. Isolating myself from friends and acquaintances,
C. Pissing off everyone I’ve ever dated or am currently seeing.
So, here I am, here to give you the anonymous insider scoop from a personal, unfiltered perspective.
Welcome to my life – a mix of Sex and the City, Silicon Valley, Gossip Girl, New Girl, and whatever happens to be playing on Lifetime.