On our first date at a fancy restaurant, Danika ordered the $175 Wagyu ribeye and the priciest wine, grinning as my heart sank. I was a $22-an-hour warehouse worker, and the $260 bill stung. Danika, elegant and confident, called my lifestyle “basic” and mocked my efforts, like cooking spaghetti at home. Despite her charm, her comments—like dismissing my $22-an-hour job or my silver bracelet gift—made me feel small. I kept trying, drawn to rare moments when she seemed vulnerable, sharing her unstable childhood. But after seeing her with another man at a hotel, I realized her high-class persona was a facade—she was behind on rent, her fashion
startup nonexistent. When she showed up at my job, claiming a mistake, I briefly let her back in but soon ended it for good. Six months later, I met Miren at an art event. She was kind, authentic, and didn’t care about my income. We built something real, sharing $18 coffee dates and cozy moments. A year later, we moved in together; last month, I proposed. I learned love isn’t about impressing someone—it’s about mutual peace and showing up. If someone makes you feel less, walk away. Real love doesn’t demand a performance.
