To Dear Sugar Baby and Sugar Daddy:
I know it isn’t as much fun as talking about the gifts but sometimes I think it’s more important. Let’s talk about failures. Let’s talk about that moment you realized everything wasn’t okay and your paycheck had walked away. Let’s talk about what happens next.
It would be very easy for me to discuss why this was the CatDog’s fault and I did nothing wrong. It wouldn’t be a lie. I didn’t do anything that my conscience regrets. However, this isn’t about conscience. This isn’t about him. This is about me. A businesswoman. Some women view sugaring as simply another form of dating.
I don’t.
For me, this is a business. This is how I will launch my creative business. With that in mind, I see things a little differently. Even if I can claim innocence, there’s still a lesson to be learned. There’s still a chance for me to analyze my own behavior and see how I can improve. How I can make my business better.
And that was the main problem wasn’t it? I forgot this was a business. I behaved as if I was on a date with a 25 years old man who knew he didn’t have much to offer instead of a significantly older man whose ego had been stroked so often that he believed he possessed far more charm than he actually did.
I forgot I was an oasis. My job is to become the perfect woman for him or as close to the perfect woman as my personality will allow. My job is to be his respite – to learn him and understand him better than he understands himself and for a few hours a week to give him an opportunity to just be. Be the self he thinks he is. Be the self that he wants to be. This is not a difficult task. I no longer keep company with men who are a trial to me. But it’s easy for me to forget.
I forgot they’re all casually racist but don’t believe they are. Ignorance is bliss and they live in blissful white privilege paradise. I know this. I do. I know it so well that I assume they’re all racist until they prove otherwise. With that in mind, why in hell would I discuss white privilege so vehemently? I’ve quietly but firmly ended conversations regarding race relations in America before without offending anyone. What happened that night?
I forgot sex wasn’t enough. Beauty isn’t enough. Brains aren’t enough. It’s the consistent and continual combination of the three in a way that best seduces the man in question that matter. One alone isn’t going to hold him for long. Sure the sex will send him back to you briefly but if you think for one second that you’re the only one taking vinegar baths, drinking cranberry juice, and working on your gag reflex, you’re sorely mistaken. If you think you’re the only one properly laying down some eyebrows and blending foundation, you’re sorely mistaken. If you think you’re the only one knocking a penis to the back of your throat- well. You know that’s just silly. Sex is the easiest thing to replace at the end of a relationship. Beauty is next. Intelligence is last. Be smart enough to never forget that.
I forgot you can lose your job at any moment. It’s odd that I forgot that as it’s the second time in two months I’ve learned that lesson in the vanilla and sugar worlds. There is a reason why I now hoard every bit of cash that crosses my palm like a squirrel stocking for winter. It can end at any moment. It can end when you think everything is going so well. You have to consistently be ready. Luckily for me, I finally learned the lesson that one daddy isn’t enough and had several dates lined up.
But -I forgot the protocol. Every other time I’ve wanted to leave a job, no one knew but me – until I turned in my two weeks notice. I quietly searched for and secured another job. I signed an employment agreement. I had a start date. Then I handed in my two weeks. If this was a job too, why hadn’t I followed the same protocol? Why would I deprive myself of money?
I’ll say it again. I forgot this was a business. I run a service based business and all service-based businesses are at the mercy of their customers until they’ve built a customer base large enough and steady enough that one poor experience, one loss doesn’t really matter. I’m not there yet. I don’t know enough about what I’m doing yet. With that in mind, every customer matters.
Does every customer matter to such a degree that I’ll compromise myself or my morals in a way that I find repugnant? No. I’ll let a man go and not feel regretful about it. Does this mean that I can show up and behave any way I please and my customer is just supposed to accept it? Some of them will. For reasons I don’t yet understand and that probably have very little to do with me. But I don’t want the precariousness that comes with one man or two. I want the security that comes with two or three men with a possible in the wings.