Helen

You know, life as a data analyst isn’t supposed to come with workplace scandals. My job is pretty straightforward numbers, code, more numbers, repeat. But leave it to me to spice things up by dating the boss’s daughter. I thought it was going great until the whole office found out. Now, I’m not just “Helen the Data Analyst”; I’m “Helen the girl who dated her.”

Here’s the thing: if I were rich, this whole situation would be nothing. People would be sipping champagne, giving me nods of approval, whispering, “Oh, how avant-garde!” But since I’m just an ordinary data analyst, it’s all side-eyes and gossip. Suddenly, it’s like being bisexual is the strangest thing in the world because God forbid you’re anything but straight when you’re pulling a regular paycheck and not a six-figure salary.

Now I get it, if I were living in a fancy penthouse, dating a CEO’s daughter, this would be a power move. But here I am, living in a two-bedroom apartment with a cat who judges my life choices, getting weird looks from my coworkers because apparently, it’s “weird” for someone like me to date…anyone.

I swear, the day the news broke in the office, you’d have thought I brought a circus to the boardroom. Everyone acted like I was walking around with neon signs flashing “scandal!” over my head. My boss? He just gives me this tight-lipped smile now, the kind that says, “I know what you did.” I mean, come on, I’m still doing my job! The reports are on time, and the data is accurate, but all anyone sees is the girl who dared to live her truth on a budget.

I tried to play it cool, you know? Like, “Oh, yeah, I dated her. It’s no big deal.” But honestly, trying to deflect all the awkward comments is a full-time job in itself. One coworker asked, “So, what’s it like dating a woman?” Uh, the same as dating anyone else, except you might argue over who gets the last slice of pizza more passionately.

Anyway, I’ve accepted that in the world of office politics, dating your boss’s daughter as a bisexual woman is a whole circus if you don’t have a bank account to back it up. But hey, at least it’s given me a new story to tell, and I’ve gotten really good at handling awkward elevator rides.

In the end, I’m still Helen, just a little more colorful. And if my love life adds some drama to the otherwise boring data world, well, at least I’m keeping things interesting, right?