This guy knew I was a *** worker. It says so, right in my Bumble profile: retired media ***, current actual ***.
He'd even commented about it, using what every woman longs to listen to from a romantic interest:'Haha, nice

'. And yet I watched as his face contorted into an expression of disgust, his upper lip curling as the fact of my profession came crashing down around him such as a tonne of bricks.
"That is clearly a lot," he said, and he then rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. I didn't hear from him again.
It sometimes surprises people to listen to that *** workers do a number of normal people activities, like working other jobs, studying, taking the bins out. We exist in actuality after our shifts end and the red light is flicked off; we've dinner with this families and shop at K-Mart and wait on hold with this internet service providers for what feels like hours.
It's not common that the physical and emotional experiences we've at the of***e could be enough to make up for a potential lack of intimate connection inside our lives outside of work; so most of us also date, with varied levels of success.
A couple of months ago, I ended a connection with a person I had been seeing for nearly two years. In private, he was a huge supporter of me working, but around his colleagues and friends his tune seemed to change. He would introduce me, but hesitate in describing our relationship; when he said, "This really is Kate..." the silence that hung in the room where, "...my girlfriend," should have been weighed a tonne.
I don't believe that he personally had a problem with me being fully a *** worker, but I do feel that the possibility of others judging me – and then judging him if you are with me – was enough to create him want to keep me a secret.
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