Sex Work?

Is being a sugar baby prostitution, or just extremely cynical dating?

I have a friend who, for a good part of our senior year of college, had a sugar daddy. She was 22, bright, but terminally lazy and incredibly underachieving. He was in his 30s, a consultant stationed near our college for 5 days a week, and incredibly bored and lonely. If they'd met at a bar, it would have been sketchy but eye-roll worthy. They didn't meet at a bar though; there was nothing innocent and coincidental about it-- because they met on seekingarrangement.com, a site where people post classifieds looking for sugar daddies or sugar babies. The ads-- my friend's included-- often say that they aren't offering for sex, but that its a possibility like in any normal relationship.

Once a week, my friend drove out to the suburban hotel her sugar daddy stayed in, and they went to a fancy dinner followed up by sex. She told me she wouldn't have slept with him if he hadn't been funny, nice, and moderately attractive. But she also told me that she probably wouldn't have slept with him if there hadn't been some sort of monetary incentive involved.

At the time, her casual attitude towards sex work bothered me-- but it bothered me even more that she refused to accept it as sex work. It still bothers me that she refused to accept it as sex work-- and yet, I see many other women who don't think this arrangement is sex work either, because it does mirror a more traditional dating scheme. But the difference between a prostitute who specializes in "the girlfriend experience" and a sugar baby seems very small to me-- and as if it mainly consists of smugness that she isn't a prostitute.

I can't deny that the thought of having a sugar daddy would be incredibly appealing if I were single-- I'm a broke grad student who would love some free meals and pricey clothing-- but as checkered as my dating past might be, I don't know that I could bring myself to enter a "relationship" where I'd be basically getting paid to flatter someone. I don't have a problem with sex work (though my future legal career does mean there's no chance in hell I'd do it), or people who do sex work, but the fact is, entering into a sugar relationship is not the same as entering into a regular relationship. In normal dating, you can be fairly sure that both parties genuinely like each other and want to spend time with each other-- or at least, you can pretend that's true. In a sugar relationship, it seems that compatibility standards lower considerably. He might not actually like you-- but if he flatters you over dinner and gives you money, you'll sleep with him. You might not actually like him, but if you flatter him over dinner, and sleep with him, you can pay rent, or buy a nice new dress. Its using each other and, while some would say that the pleasure we get out of regular dating is still using each other, this seems more... heartless, more mercenary, more of a lie.

I like truth. Genuine people. Honesty. And romance.

And the romantic in me just... can not accept that sex and money should be more important in a relationship than a true meeting of mind and heart. Yet, I totally get casual sex. Contradiction, yes, but one I'm willing to own up to.

Self Esteem

Self-esteem is a tricky thing. I generally think I have pretty good self-esteem-- I'm reasonably intelligent, reasonably attractive, generally kind, very well read, and curious about the world. I like to think I'm turning into a competent adult-- I keep my apartment relatively clean, make myself healthy meals at least half the time, and actually get up for work even though I set my own hours.

But money... oh, money pulls me down. Not that I don't have a lot-- I'm in law school, no one in law school is anything but poor-- but that what little money I do have, I'm terrible at managing. Looking at my finances today, I discovered that I am once again broke as broke can be. And honestly, there is no reason for me to be this broke. Its purely a case of mismanaging my funds, of not keeping track of my spending, or being irresponsible.

And that? makes me feel like a child. A terrible, worthless, irredeemable child. Consciously, I know that feeling this way is silly, that I will (eventually, at least!) resolve my financial issues, and that once my loan checks come in in-- what? A little over a month? I will be financially clear until at least the end of next school year. But for now? Even if this problem is fixable with time and, in the grand scheme of things, not very significant-- it is sending me into myself in questioning and doubt and sadness. I'm angry at myself, annoyed at myself, and almost worst of all not even that surprised at myself.

This kind of proof of irresponsibility is damaging, at least short term, to my self esteem. Because despite all the traits I listed up above, and while my self esteem is surely influenced by my looks and accomplishments and intelligence, whatever they all may be-- its most largely based on whether or not I feel I am a competent person. Whether I am able to handle the everyday tasks that everyone has to face. And when I mess up on things that are so everyday, so basic, so necessary-- well, that's a much larger blow to myself esteem than a series of unflattering photos or a bad score on a test could ever be.

What’s a Modern Girl Want with Marriage, Anyway?

Today's entry is a bit unusual-- I didn't write it. Instead, this is courtesy of my friend Jenny, one of my favorite people in the world. Jenny is 25, and spends her days working on her PhD while trying to solve the mysteries of prostate cancer. She has a golden retriever named after Bruce Wayne, she's one of the most well-read people I know, she has an amazing assortment of heels, she's a kick-ass rock-climber, she makes delicious cupcakes, and she's a huge nerd.

She also just bought her wedding dress.

Like everything else in life, it turns out lots of people have opinions they feel the need to share with you, if you’re a 25 year old woman getting married. Are you knocked up, they say. Why not just live together, they say. Isn’t it selfish of you to get married when not everyone can?

It takes all the (limited) patience I have not to hit them with my favorite quote from The Departed: Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe go fuck yourself. But to be a little more civil, I’ve broken it down with my friend Amanda, who’s kindly let me work out my mental twists and turns in this guest post.

1) Why get married? Because I want to. In an ideal world, this would be the only reason that mattered. I’ve dated my fiancé for a little over a year, and we’re both ready to get married. For various personal reasons, we don’t want to live together before we’re married, so we’re looking forward to not only starting our lives together but also sharing a home with our dog for the first time. I think it’s safe to say that not being married has complicated our lives far more than being married will. I am certain that I will be staying with my fiancé for the rest of our lives. And no, I do not want to wait five years, or ten years, or thirty-five years, or however long it will take until some anonymous commenter on the lives of others feels we’re
“ready.” We’re ready now. We’ve talked about it thoroughly, and we’re clear on what marriage will and will not be changing about our relationship. We’ll live in the same place. I’ll be changing my name (and no, I will not be taking opinions on that topic). Aside from that: not much. A friend recently told me that her mother’s philosophy is that if you’re not married before the wedding, you won’t be married after it. The actual ceremony and certificate won’t be changing things for us. I’m not insecure or trying to prove anything. I just want our relationship to be as official as it can be, for my own emotional reasons. In other words: Why would we NOT get married? There’s nothing holding us back. I’m in graduate school, but I don’t need to be single in order to finish. I’m 25, he’s 24. We’ve both dated plenty of people and had enough experience to know when the right person came along. Additionally, I don’t find much credibility in the theory that “it’s much more meaningful to not get married, because then every day you spend together is a choice.” Every day you spend with someone, in or out of marriage, is a choice. Disentangling yourself from any long term relationship, married or not, is going to be difficult. I, personally, find it much more meaningful to get married. Why? I’ve never married anyone before. It’s the most special thing I can think of to demonstrate how important my fiancé is to me.

2) Why get married? Because it will simplify things for my fiancé and I. I mentioned this before, but not sharing a house while we share a dog is a giant pain in the butt. More than that, having the rights that come easily with marriage but are so hard to get otherwise will be a big bonus. I don’t have to worry about not being able to see him in the hospital. He won’t have to fight my dad for our dog if I die suddenly. (My dad really loves our dog.) When we buy a house together, our loan process will be more streamlined than if we were just living together. In the event of one of our sudden illnesses, end of life decisions and similar medical consultations will take place by default with the other person. Although you can certainly file paperwork empowering your partner to make these decisions, hospitals may choose to recognize these or not. In the event of one of our deaths, our estate will revert to the other one, not to our parents. If one of us chooses to stay at home with the children, and the supporting spouse dies, the widow/er has the option to bring a wrongful death suit and get money to represent the lost earnings.

3) Why get married? Because it will make things easier for our future family. This is a short point, but a good one—our children will be default have both our names on their birth certificates. We’ll both be empowered to pick them up from school, sign off on things, etc., and while that’s not something that’s limited to married parents, it will make dealing with school administrators easier. Again, in the event of one of our deaths, custody of the children will revert to the surviving spouse, not our families.

4) Why get married? Because I believe that everyone should have the option. Not getting married as a stance on gay rights only really works if you’re a high-profile celebrity. Otherwise, you’re protesting others’ lack of civil rights, but not exercising your own. That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. It’s like saying all people should have the right to vote, but then not voting yourself. It’s my firm opinion, having been raised in the Bible Belt, that marriage will never be changed from the outside. It will take the dedicated work of married, straight supporters of gay rights to start to change the mainstream attitude about marriage. I also know that the kind of people who believe in the defense of marriage see not getting married as a cop out. By getting married, I am strengthening my own voice in this debate, making it carry more weight where it counts.

Plus, I love my fiancé and I can’t wait to get married to him.

The Wage Gap and Women's Choices

Some thoughts on the wage gap, women's chocies, and Clay Shirky's A Rant About Women, courtesy of my Feminist Jurisprudence class.

Money, Money, Money

One of the stranger aspects of being in a Real Grownup Relationship is that my financial decisions are no longer really... my own.  JD and I have separate bank accounts, but that still doesn't mean that my financial actions don't impact him.  One of the big decisions now is that  need to take out a bar loan, to be able to pay for the bar application, pay for the bar course, pay rent, eat, and if need be even buy some more business clothes so that if I get a job any time soon, I have something other than jeans and my interview suit to wear.

There are a few options for bar loans, with different interest rates, and different payment and deferment schedules, and I can determine the amount I need to take out, up to a set limit.  Except... I'm not deciding any of this.  At least, not me alone.  JD and I are going to go chat with an associate of the bank that seems to have one of the best rate/deferment options, and we're going to discuss our options, and then make the decision together.

And yes, this loan will be in my name alone, and technically my debt alone.  But we're starting a family!  A two person family, sure, but my financial decisions now impact him, because they impact my overall ability to do things, and the standard of life I'll be capable of-- and that's relevant, when you have someone who is your equal partner, and who gets a say in all important life decisions.

And this loan thing is one of the first things to really make it sink in that, WOW, this time next year I'l going to be a lawyer and married and a REAL ADULT!!!

Some days, I still feel like a 12 year old.

But then...  I think about the problems that I spend all day thinking about, and I think about the law, and I realize, hey!  I'm capable of complex legal thought an analysis, and I'm responsible, and I actually have life goals and I'm totally going to be married!  And I figure, well, if I managed to make it this far--  I can totally manage the rest of being a grown up ok.

Even when it means talking about how to spend "my" money.  Because we're going to be talking about how to spend "his" money too.  Because really?  We're in this together.  Marriage is about making a partnership, and making it work.  And everyone works on how to balance things differently-- especially in money-- but making sure the conversation is had, and that we're on the same page?  We'll, we're doing pretty good on that, even if it is mildly terrifying.  Money is one of the top three things couples fight about-- the other two being sex and childrearing-- and relinquishing independence in this area, and entering into a partnership regarding money puts me in a place of vulnerability.  I'm not giving up my independence-- but I'm joining it to this relationship.  And JD is too.  And from now on, all the important decisions either of us makes about our lives?  Well, they'll be joint decisions.  And that... is really, in the end, kind of cool.