This story is gross and upsetting and I have long been embarrassed about it. I could have sworn that I wrote a post about the incident, but searching “Chris” and “gross” didn’t produce any results.

Even now, many years later, I feel uncomfortable typing the words. But the story is timely and in sharing it, maybe I can help someone feel less alone while they consider their own #MeToo moments.

I was young and broke and living in NYC. My first job after college graduation paid just $25,000* and my rent was $950 per month. If I’d had any common sense at all at twenty-two years old, I would have realized that living alone wasn’t a viable option. But I was stubborn and wanted to feel independent, even as I accepted subsidies from my parents.

Recognizing that I was locked into a year-long lease, my mother didn’t give me too much grief when I called home crying poverty. But she did suggest I get a second job for some hours outside of my 9-5 gig.

*At some point, I will write many blog posts about the importance of negotiation and the many mistakes I made in this realm before waking up.

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