I am finally terminating an emotionally abusive and entirely draining on and off again “vanilla” relationship. At the start of it all, there was romance and light and flowers and adventure and promises and hand holding and all things chick flick. In fact, it was the first time I had truly applied even a little of what I’d learned in the Sugar world to my traditional dating choices, and I really thought I’d struck gold.
I was so sure that I’d spotted a man with Sugar Daddy values in the wild that I pounced much too soon. All that glitters is often gold plated. Sigh. Prior to this experience, my romantic life was like the Prince and the Pauper- I stayed emotionally distant from Daddies, and filled the void by investing my heart into relationships with those I felt would never leave me.
Looking back, I was foolishly letting my own insecurities dictate how I was treated, while simultaneously negating every financial step forward with a giant step back. Honestly, if my heels weren’t so expensive, I could fucking kick myself. If only hindsight were for sale, am I right?
A Sugaring Theory
Since we’re giving this a confessional vibe at this point, I’ll also come clean with my most recent realization. I used to be completely at peace with myself and my personal dating choices, specifically my involvement in the wonderful world of Sugar. I was subconsciously trying to “make up for” my successes in the Sugar Bowl by giving my all to vanilla boyfriends who did not meet my standards. I don’t think this is uncommon, either.
I have a close Sugar Baby friend who refers to this as the “Robin Hood Mentality.” We try to balance the blessings bestowed upon us by Sugar by turning around and acting as Sugar Mamas in our vanilla relationships as an attempt to find peace with constantly ridiculed Sugar dating decisions. It also gives us a bonus: a taste of the financial power we normally don’t experience.
Major Lesson Learned: This doesn’t actually bring peace. In my previous blog post, I spoke about embracing Sugar Baby status in order to bring about true change and acceptance. I have always been appalled at the backlash directed at fellow young, ambitious women taking the reins and using their relationships to get where they’re going.
Do you think I wasn’t morally conflicted and scared the first time I got handed a wad of cash to have dinner at a five star restaurant with a successful person? Do you think I didn’t take into consideration what people might think? Of course I was, and I did. Do you think I still care what people think? I honestly don’t. Anyone ignorant enough to be more offended by the supply than the demand is missing a huge part of the equation, and truly not worth my conversation.
I Fell in Love With Salt
I digress, back to Salt. I initially pursued the relationship with stars in my eyes because he seemingly exemplified all the values I’d picked up being a Sugar Baby. He came off as ambitious, claimed to have his life together. His alleged successes were proportionate to our nearly ten-year age difference, and he seemed totally willing and able to take under his wing a young, independent woman chasing her dreams and setting up her life.
The reality? Once he got comfortable, he ended up asking to borrow large sums of money from me to pay his bills and turned out to be lying about everything from his whereabouts to his living situation. I was completely blind to Salt, dissolved in a web of lies.
Now let’s pause the story here: When a red flag pops up in the Sugar Bowl, I am the first person to go Nancy Drew on a Daddy and get to the bottom of it. Before I felt comfortable enough to apply my Sugar lessons to traditional dating, I stupidly let those red flags fly. Now that I have stopped living an exhausting double life. I stopped feeling bad when I react negatively to my expectations going unmet. If the person you attach yourself to isn’t complying with your standards, why would you want to continue?
Love is a crazy thing that makes us do crazier things. I get it. (I’m a Pisces. Seriously, I freaking get it.) After being cornered on New Year’s Eve by Salt’s even saltier brother and confronted about my well known Sugar Baby lifestyle, my confidence almost wavered. It was then I realized: through my Sugaring, I have met so many beautiful people- some famous, many unknown; some behind the camera, some in front of it. Some strangers on the internet, some strangers in real life who are compassionate, open minded and willing to hear my story, experience and reasoning that people who mindlessly label me fail to understand.
My now ex-boyfriend turned out to only half-own the house he claimed was completely his, had a dead end job and no ambition to apply elsewhere, and took me on a glamorous vacation secretly funded by his father (and unbeknownst to me attended by the entire clan). He still managed to tell me what was wrong with me more times than I could count in some sick attempt to countervail his own shortcomings.
All this aside, he still cheated. Had he been honest about his actual position, our chemistry and connection would have mattered the most. It was his dishonesty that left no room for negotiation, and such sincerity is just as important in the sugar bowl. Whether a POT is worth $100K or $100 million, honesty determines the end result of the association.
So shout out to those with permanently pointed fingers who dehumanize Sugar Babies into storybook villains and scapegoats who are the root of temptation: We aren’t. I’m the walking-in-designer-heels-proof that even divas get blindsided.
Sugaring ultimately empowered me as a woman to not only consider, set and meet well thought out expectations within a relationship, but to fearlessly leave when they aren’t being met. Technically, Sugaring saved me from an unfulfilling destiny. On the flip side, staying in touch with traditional dating while Sugaring keeps me from forgetting the most important part of any connection: warmth, candor, compassion, and the innate desire to satisfy the need for trust and affection.
Oh, and in case you were wondering how it ended with Mr. Salt, he called me every derogatory name in the book. And it’s fine, because I won’t be calling him at all anymore.
May his tears be as salty as he was.