I realized that putting myself in the position of sugar baby opened up the door for this man to degrade and insult me verbally in ways I didn't really expect.
As bad as it sounds, I was prepared to consent to some things I wasn't necessarily fully comfortable with during sex, but I wasn't prepared for it outside of the bedroom.
These sites connect young women with mostly older, rich men who will essentially pay for "companionship" (which can amount to dates and sex).
My friend was making 0 a week in exchange for such interactions with one man — meaning she made ,800 a month in exchange for spending time with someone for four days.
You might be wondering how this doesn't constitute prostitution, but to avoid legal trouble, these websites don't pitch what's going on as sex work. No it didn't, because my rent, utilities, tuition payment, and monthly Sallie Mae bills were all due, and because of extenuating circumstances that month, I had no money to pay them.
They like to call it a "mutually beneficial relationship" in which the sugar daddy is paying for "attractive company," and in return, a sugar baby is gaining access to "the finer things in life."Do these exchanges have the potential to feel degrading? Do they perpetuate the pervasive idea that women can, literally, be bought and sold? That isn’t to say, however, that I was doing this out of sheer thirst for money and was averse to the idea of having sex with a sugar daddy figure.
He had a beautiful apartment here, worked at an investment banking firm, and loved "a good girl with a bad attitude.” Not entirely sure what that meant but confident that I could fake it, I headed to the date expecting someone professional, reasonably informed about the world, and at least a little interesting. As soon as I showed up, he told me I was beautiful ... There are several reasons this was unsettling, but the main one is that I am already constantly bombarded by images that present white women as the beauty ideal, and I have a slight complex about not being sexy enough because I'm brown.This stranger kicked off our interaction by essentially telling me that my beauty extends only to a certain level that can never exceed that of white women, and that other women who belong to my racial or ethnic group aren't usually beautiful.When he asked me what I did for a living and I told him I was a writer, retail associate, and student, he laughed.I suppose he was right about one thing: I am comfortable "slutting it up," as he called it, because to me, there's nothing morally wrong with being sexually active, engaging in sex work, and being comfortable using your body however you want.However, I was so irritated by his assumption that I was doing this out of sheer thirst for money, and that therefore my body and no other aspect of my person held value.I had envisioned us both guiding the conversation and interaction equally — or, even better, me guiding it primarily, so that I could call most of the shots, set the boundaries, and detail my comfort levels with things. He took the “you-need-me-more-than-I-need-you” approach, and was initially unwilling to negotiate when I disagreed to the arrangement he had outlined.As the evening proceeded, we talked about a variety of other topics that didn’t pertain to the arrangement at all, like what he does for work, where he grew up, our favorite literature, etc.On the contrary, the arrangement also appealed to me because I actually really enjoy sex, exploring my submissive side (which doesn’t come out to play too much), and being pampered every now and then.As someone who is supportive of sex work in general and sexually curious myself, I didn't just allow myself to engage in this kind of behavior — I welcomed the experience.He wasn’t particularly interesting, but he wasn’t particularly uninteresting, and he was certainly attractive.When we were getting near the end of a shared creme brûlée, he asked me again, “Would you like to come to my apartment for a drink? And I have plenty of rosé [which is what I had been cautiously sipping on that evening].