I’m Not Broke — I’m Bitter (and Kind of Broke)

On surviving success, resisting joy, and wondering how the hell everyone else is doing it.

Once a quiet valley town full of artists, weirdos, and wanderers, ______ was known for its slow pace, open space, and affordability. But post-pandemic, the floodgates opened — remote workers and big-city money poured in, driving up costs and reshaping the landscape. What was once accessible now feels curated, exclusive, and borderline performative. The charm is still here — but so is the tension.

I moved to ______ eight years ago, a budding artist just starting to believe I could actually live off the things I made. And for a while, I did. The getting was good. I was on a slow, steady climb, making enough to sustain a life in this little paradise. But I questioned it constantly — not in a dreamy “pinch me” way, more like an anxious “this can’t possibly last” kind of way.