Confessions of a sugar baby

With the flourish of dating apps and websites responding to all kinds of needs, sugar daddy searching sites and apps have appeared to facilitate meetings between daddies and babies. Real, reciprocate arrangements or prostitution under disguise? Here is my personal experience. 

After my last relationship, my vision of men my age was left somewhat damaged. I didn’t feel like going back into anything serious, but I didn’t feel like mourning alone at home either. A friend with benefit seemed too risky with anyone my age, considering potential attachment, players and finally the risk of running into that guy on campus after whatever awkward thing that can happen while dating. Therefore, dating (or whatever that would be) someone as busy as me, that already learned manners and could have a good conversation seemed like a nice compromise. Unresolved daddy issues? The eternal fantasy of finding a rich husband? I don’t know — all I know is an older man seemed like a good idea. I knew what I wanted, and I wanted someone who knew what he wanted too. Besides, my wardrobe could have used some updates and being spoiled a little didn’t seem too bad.

One or two years ago, I met an older guy completely thanks to chance. He was single, wasn’t searching for anything serious and had a good job that enabled him to have some premium leisure. Being a student, I couldn’t afford that, but he wanted my company so he took care of the rest. I felt bad for a while but I was having such a good time, after some time I didn’t really care anymore. He was kind, charming and although we were not emotionally involved, he made me feel special, and I was looking forward to meeting him. This first experience, which I have good memories of, pushed me further toward that idea.

I read a few testimonies from sugar babies, researched a few websites and decided to create an account to seek out a partner. On the baby side, I have to say that there is not much to do. You can of course go and scroll through profiles that you can then contact, but blocked by an ocean of insecurities and over thinking, I decided to wait and see who would contact me. My plan worked —  in the next 72 hours I had close to 20 messages.

My first impressions of the messages weren’t so bad. A few clearly sought out a legal way for prostitution, clearly stating their preferences and expectations, but for the most part, they were searching for a casual dating based on reciprocity. As I escalated conversations further with some of my matches, just like on a dating website, affinities developed. Two of them I particularly liked, and I decided to meet them both.

The first one I met was a really sweet guy who had the best intentions, but it just didn’t click. And while I like free shoes, I couldn’t force myself to only see a guy for money and that wouldn’t have been fair to him either. Yes, I have principles.

The second was more … interesting. On his profile picture, he looked like Justin Trudeau, but when I met him he was way more of a Conleth Hill (Varys in Game of Thrones). Then he started bragging about his money, threw in a few remarks about some poor girls that were wearing shorts and explained to me how he had charity parties that he would take me to if I wanted, granted $500 not including the dress and shoes primarily bought by him. I really thought about it; who wouldn’t? Then I researched those events and could never find anything about them, and believe me, I have dated enough to develop master stalker skills. The whole thing looked a little sketchy and too good to be true. Then came the final reason that prompted me to end it all: after talking about nothing more than himself for two hours, he asked me when would be the best time for me during the week to “get wine and a good old … pickle.” He said pickle.

I was hoping for some tender moments with a nice man who would treat the way I deserve to be treated —  with manners and class —  who would at least try to seduce me, but instead I ended up with unerasable memories.

Maybe it’s my chance in the dating world, maybe it’s the region, or maybe a proactive, more optimistic attitude on those websites would have been better, but all things considered, I am going to take a break from it all.

My experience is nothing representative of all experiences around the country, but it just reminded me not to settle for a bill when I feel like it could end up really badly. Safe fun is always the best fun.