I never thought I would be a sugar baby. Not when I was 21, and certainly not as a year-old divorced parent of three. Perhaps it was my Roman Catholic background that shaped my views on relationships and love, but I used to think the sugar-daddy-sugar baby dynamic was silly and taboo. That kind of relationship didn't go with my moral standards.
Women strutting for a wad of cash and to please a wealthy man β¦ no, thank you. I saw my love life going in a much different direction. The "normal" direction, so to speak. For a long time, it did. After a fluke first marriage at 27, I met the successful, headstrong man I was taught to believe every woman wants. Together, we had three beautiful children and lived the classic, white-picket-fence life for almost two decades.
Behind that fence; however, I was miserable. He's an entrepreneur, so I was always sympathetic to the demands of his work. But over time, I felt myself becoming more like a nanny and less like his wife. Foreplay felt like a chore, and eventually we weren't having sex at all. I existed to make dinner for the kids and provide an open ear when he needed to vent. After 15 years β six of which involved intensive marriage counseling β I finally decided to walk away. I wanted to take control of my life and smile again.
A few weeks after signing the divorce papers, I jumped right back into the dating game with a year-old I had met at a work function. His easygoing and carefree personality was the polar opposite of my ex.
It didn't bother me that he was younger. I was just anxious to feel wanted again. Our fling didn't last long. As striking as this blonde-hair, blue-eyed guy was, he just wasn't stable enough for me.
