When did you realize the phrase “money ISN’T everything” is actually true?
The Poverty Project and the Exposed Secrets
My boyfriend’s mom tried to destroy my life by calling me a gold digger and bribing me to leave him. So, I burned her world to the ground. Two years later, she’s asking me to fix her relationship with her kids. My boyfriend was born into third generational wealth.
Meanwhile, I grew up in tent city on Skidro. I still don’t know who my parents are or what they look like, but with the help of a few right turns in life, I managed to work my way up at a door-to-door sales job and rent my first apartment.
My boyfriend was actually the first one to approach me in my local Starbucks. He smelled like Tom Ford cologne, wore an expensive suit, gold watch, very put together. I honestly expected us not to get along because of how obviously different our backgrounds were, but we yapped for almost an hour straight and he even made me laugh.
Not the forced smile laugh, but a real wholesome one. After that, we went on more dates and I slowly found myself falling in love. I tried to savor every moment we shared because I assumed when I told him about my upbringing and my lack of formal education, he would instantly turn his nose, but he didn’t.
“Wow, so you really worked your way up.”
“You know, that’s really impressive.”
I didn’t detect any hint of untruthfulness or entitlement in his voice. Instantly, my walls went down. I was ready to marry that man.
From there, I started accepting his invites to his lavish parties and high society events. It was like a whole new world. Parents were genuinely stressing about whether they should pay for their kids to attend Yale or Harvard. Others were discussing the pros and cons of going to Santorini or the Canary Islands for summer.
I knew that none of them would even be able to fathom the fact that I practically spent my entire childhood daydreaming about having enough food to eat, debating whether I should skip lunch or if I should skip dinner. Needless to say, I had no contribution to their discussions until the topic of politics came up.
There was a very heated conversation going on at the other end of the table. Suddenly, the woman very loudly exclaimed, “Ugh, public schools shouldn’t even exist.”
“If you can’t afford real education, then I don’t see why you should even be allowed to be part of society.”
And instead of anyone calling her out on her BS, they started nodding their heads like it was the most reasonable opinion in the world, like it was something they had discussed hundreds of times before.
I just bit my tongue. But then my boyfriend’s mom said, “Right, like if you can’t afford food, maybe that’s nature’s way of saying you shouldn’t be here.” I took a deep breath and said, “I mean, these are all great points, but don’t you think some people just need extra help getting back on their feet?”
The entire table went silent. I even heard a few audible gasps. My boyfriend looked wide-eyed and extremely shocked. I twirled my peas around my plate with my fork.
“But I mean, still, the poor should be kissing our feet and thanking us for all we do for them,” I said, trying to save myself from being noticed as an outsider.
Everyone immediately broke back into clamor about how much they hated anyone who wasn’t them. I really thought it was a good save until I excused myself to the bathroom and closed the stall door. That’s when my boyfriend’s mother and sister walked in.
“Did you hear what William’s girlfriend said?”
“Uh, don’t get me started,” his mom replied.
“He had warned us that she was from the gutter, but I didn’t know she was an educated peasant, too.”
“I hope he realizes that she’s nothing but a poverty project soon and dumps her.”
I stopped listening after that. I still don’t know if they knew I was in the stall, but I was humiliated. As soon as they left, I called for an Uber home. The last thing I wanted was to face his family again, but I didn’t break up with my boyfriend.
In fact, I never told William about what I’d heard. Instead, I strengthened our relationship. I got closer with his family, and with the help of nights filled with whiskey and white wine, they truly believed that they could tell me anything. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for.
I just thought I’d know it when I saw it. And one day, I did. I was with his mom in the living room when she started bitching about William’s sister.
“She’s a disappointment to the bloodline.”
“I have to take Xanaxes just to deal with the fact she came out of me.”
My ears immediately perked up. Meanwhile, she covered her mouth like she had just said a bad word.
“Oh gosh, I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Please don’t worry, I exclaimed.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
But it wasn’t Lel. The next time I was over, I went into her bathroom and found the capsules in their medicine cabinet.
I then replaced them all with almost identical looking vitamin C capsules. I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I was more than ready to find out. Well, a few weeks later, William’s sister held a dinner party.
I had honestly forgotten about the pills until the meal came because while his sister was eating dinner, her mom tweaked out, “Stop rubbing your effing fork against the plate, you fat effing pig.”
The entire table went silent. I just smirked knowing I had won. Or I thought I did anyway because I later found out there were cameras in the bathroom the whole time.
And it wasn’t long before he taught me exactly what secrets rich people are hiding. I was at William’s place the next day when his mom called him. He answered on speaker, not thinking anything of it.
I heard her voice immediately.
“William, we need to talk about your girlfriend.”
My stomach dropped.
“What about her?”
His mom’s voice got all sweet and fake.
“Oh, honey.”
“I just think you should know what kind of person she really is.”
I tried to keep my face neutral while my heart was racing. William’s mom told him to check the family security app. Apparently, they had cameras throughout their mansion, including in the hallways outside the bathrooms that could see who entered and exited.
I felt sick. William pulled up the app on his phone, and there I was, clear as day, entering his mother’s private bathroom where no guest would normally go. His face went from confused to shocked to angry in about 3 seconds.
“What the hell is this?” he asked me.
I didn’t know what to say.
“How do you explain to someone that you tampered with their mom’s medication because she called you a poverty project?” I tried to explain what I’d overheard in the bathroom that night, but William was already pacing around the room.
“Do you know how dangerous that is?”
“She could have had serious withdrawal symptoms.”
“What were you thinking?”
I grabbed my purse and left without another word. I spent the next 3 days in my apartment, ignoring his calls and texts.
