Liz the Big Nasty Abominable Snowwoman & the HR Plot Twist That Changed My Life

You ever meet someone so miserable, so bitter, so pressed that you start questioning whether you’re the problem or if they’re just mad because their life peaked during the Bush administration?

Enter Liz: the walking HR complaint with the energy of a musty mop and the face of a thawing snowman.

From the moment I met Liz, I could feel the crusty energy radiating from her pores. She had that “I don’t moisturize but I judge everyone who does” aura. I tried to be cordial. I tried to keep it cute. But somehow, simply existing in my natural beauty, minding my business and applying lip gloss, set this woman off like a TSA alarm.

The conversation that started it all?
She asked me why I didn’t wear makeup during training.
I looked her dead in the face and said, “I don’t feel like it… and I don’t need it.”

AND THAT WAS THE BULLET POINT THAT SENT HER SPIRALING.

Apparently, that sentence alone was enough to make her feel “unsafe” in the training room. Unsafe, babes? Because I told you I don’t like wearing foundation? You’re not being bullied your insecurities are. Let’s be honest: this wasn’t about makeup. It was about the fact that I was effortlessly cute with and without it, and she had been fighting the same eyeliner battle since 1987 with nothing to show for it but clogged pores and resentment.

But Liz didn’t just stop at side eyes and passive aggressive questions. No, she went full villain origin story and reported me to HR.

Yes, you read that right.
This grown woman mid 40s looking mid 60s snitched to corporate because I didn’t compliment her crusty concealer or participate in her weird lunch table cult.

Suddenly I’m being pulled aside for a “conversation” about how I’m “making others uncomfortable.” Meanwhile, Liz is out here weaponizing her insecurity like it’s part of the FAA handbook.

At that point, I had two choices:

1. Fight the system and play their fake smile politics.
2. Quit and reclaim my joy, my edges, and my peace.

Spoiler alert: I chose peace.

I packed my little flight school booklet, said goodbye to my real friends (shoutout to Francesca, Will, and Lea), and walked out that door with my lip gloss poppin’, head high, and a middle finger metaphorically raised to Liz and her hateration.

And honestly? Best decision I ever made.

Because little did Liz know, her crusty attitude and backhanded complaints were the cosmic push I needed to level up.

I left that training program, moved to New York City, started modeling, ended up on TV, built a personal brand, and now I live a life that Liz literally could never imagine.

While she’s still in that same beige training room with the same dry binder and the same dusty attitude… I’m out here creating, glowing, growing, thriving. And not a speck of Maybelline in sight.

So here’s the real plot twist:
Her attempt to bring me down actually catapulted me into my next level.

Sometimes your enemies are your greatest motivators they’re just disguised as coworkers with brittle hair and bad energy.

Bless her little bitter heart. She really thought she stopped something.

Instead, she helped launch everything.