Confessions From Someone Who Left A Pryamid Scheme

I am obsessed with my college self.

In high school, I was weird and chubby and had zero to absolutely no self esteem (depending on how my eyeliner turned out that day). I listened to Green Day so much I had delusions of becoming a part of the band. I’d met Billie Joe Armstrong at a CD signing in Palisades, New Jersey, he’d fall in love with me, teach me to play guitar, I’d become the lead guitarist, and my eyeliner would look perfect every day. I was such a little weirdo that I stuck out like a sore thumb wherever I went. God bless my high school counselor who knew exactly where I would fit in: liberal arts school. My first semester of college was like something out of a rom com. I was laying in the grass of the quad, reading plays by old, dead, white playwrights whose names I couldn’t pronounce. I would wave to rugby players who would wave back at me. I had stints of sobriety so I could “find myself without alcohol”. My closest friends were all theatre lovers. We’d sit around until midnight making each other laugh and create characters at parties. We’d cry in each others arms about our past traumas. I never stopped being weird. I just found other weirdos who loved me just as I was.

I left my first semester of college with a head held so high I was eating leaves. So it’s no shock that when a letter arrived at my childhood home explaining how this company needed someone hardworking (me), driven (omg me), and unique (literally, omg, ME) I called in and scheduled an interview right away. I drove my parents Buick down the Bronx River Parkway to the next town over and interviewed for a sales position. Of course, I got it. But I had to accept a couple of days of rigorous training before I could start selling the product.

You know that famous line from Bojack about all the red flags looking like normal flags with rose tinted glasses. Weeeeelllllll.

It should’ve tipped me off that they didn’t mention the product until days into training. It should’ve been a stronger red flag when the man training us would pull out a 20 dollar bill and announce the person who made the most appointments would get that bill. But it really hit me that I was in a deep, deep pickle when I was giving a presentation to my grandparents and nicked myself with a knife and started bleeding. It wasn’t bad! I just had to discreetly wipe blood every couple of minutes while explaining to them the benefits of Cutco knives. After they bought a knife, I went back to that town next to my childhood home and told my boss I simply couldn’t do it.

Now.

This is an occurrence that has happened to me more than once. Not quitting a job, but an older male who has power over me explaining to me that by taking this action I am, well, taking this action. He explained how I would no longer be employed by Cutco (yes, that’s what I want), I could not longer make a ton of money by selling knives to people (yes, that’s what I want), and I would no longer be on Cutco’s payroll (yes, that’s, ugh, that’s what I WANT). I politely smiled and told him I was simply not cut out for the job. The job being calling up friends and family, reading from a script, and begging them to let me come into their house to attempt to sell them KNIVES. I left that place and never looked back.

I haven’t thought about Cutco in years. I’m not embarrassed about it at all. I think it’s hilarious. I’ve never had confidence before so I didn’t know how to use it. That first semester out of college I had this newfound confidence that was out of the world I had known. I let someone take advantage of that confidence. It’s small potatoes but I let someone tell me my worth was selling knives. I learned was that my worth is so much more. And my worth is selling makeup! Hi, I’m Holly Souchack with Mary Kay-

Kidding! And no shade to my Mary Kay females out there. That’s good stuff.

I thought about Cutco earlier today when I was searching for what to write about for my blog. This used to be a funny story I told to people but now I realize it meant so much more to me. Pyramid schemes are no joke. They take the most confident people and tell them that they can make money just by being confident. Everyone in my training group was young, impressionable, and looking to make money. We stepped into a wild ride that couldn’t of ended well. I don’t regret what happened but I sure as hell regret letting anyone tell me my confidence is best suited for (gag) sales positions.

Not kidding. Full shade to my sales positions females out there.

Shine on. Shine brighter than you’ve ever shined before. Don’t let anyone tell you your confidence is best suited anywhere. Take your time. Figure out what basket to fill all your eggs in. Then go “whoops!” wrong basket. Bike to your nearest Michaels’s and get a new basket to fill. Take your old eggs out of the basket that didn’t work for you and put them into your new basket. And buy something online that’ll make you happy for a second. Then eat some dark chocolate At least, that’s how I’ve been doing it.