Confessions of Loving Alone: My Sugar Romance That Broke Me

You know that TikTok trend when someone explains an embarrassing story about themself and they put the clown emoji over their face? As you read this, I’d like for you to imagine the clown emoji over my face. Because I know that most people will read this and think, “...Okay, she signed up to be a sugar baby and then fell in love with her sugar daddy? Come on, girl. Clown behavior.”

Now, let me just say that enough time has passed that I’m able to look back on it with some humor, but let me tell you that when I was going through it, it was not remotely funny to me. And, I definitely had to go through some humbling self-reflection and acceptance before I was able to sit down and write out my experience. But now that I have done the work (they call that “growth,” babes), I think it’s helpful for me to share my story for other sugar babies who may be in the same boat.

So, let’s take a look at my story from start to finish with some helpful commentary about red flags along the way.

Starting from the beginning, I met Marshall on a sugar dating app. We had good banter, and from a little bit of online sleuthing, I found out that he was not a salt daddy in the least. In fact, he was exactly the kind of sugar daddy I gravitated towards: not so rich that I had to worry about crazy power dynamics, but still very generous, good sense of humor, respectful, and cute. All good signs.

And this is actually where I’m going to talk about the first red flag: the fact that I could find nothing wrong with Marshall. Nothing that annoyed me about him. Nothing that we disagreed about. Nothing that I could be like, “Well, he’s a 10, but…” And that meant that I was poised to fall for him. I charged ahead anyway.

On our first date, we of course talked about what our sugar relationship would look like. He said he was looking for something very standard. We would see each other a set amount of times per week, but other than that, no contact. He was also pretty clear about what kinds of conversations were off limits and what level of emotional intimacy was comfortable for him. I remember him saying something like, “If either of us is having a bad day, we can talk about that. But anything beyond that, like big life problems, health stuff, family drama, can get messy. I’d rather we not lean on each other for that kind of stuff.”

I agreed, thinking, “Well, of course, that’s what I have my girls for. No problem.”

It was a problem, though, because I met Marshall at a pretty vulnerable moment in my life. I usually have my ducks in a row, but there were a couple of months that year that I felt like I was just taking hit after hit from the universe. My landlord raised my rent. I got a weird stress-induced rash. My cat died. Like, a real banner year for cumulative problems that made me super emotional.

And because Marshall isn’t a robot, he was kind and supportive through all of it. Without having to ask him, he raised my allowance to cover the cost of the rent hike. He helped me put cream on my weird rash. He was totally cool when a stray cat came up to me while we were walking to the car after a date, and I burst into tears thinking about my sweet, late Rosebud.

Looking back, being in such a fragile state made me a total sucker for any show of kindness. Marshall was not doing anything radical. In fact, I can see now that he was still trying to keep emotional distance. He didn’t call or text me to follow up after dates unless it was to schedule the next one. He gave me generic gifts (nice gifts, mind you, just not overly personal.) He tried to keep conversations light. And, hello red flag: I convinced myself that he was more into me than he was.

As much as I tried to keep my emotions in check, I could feel myself getting more and more excited every time I heard from Marshall or had a date coming up. I put more effort into how I looked whenever I saw him. And yes, it makes me cringe to think about it, but I started giving him gifts that were thoughtful and sweet. Deep down, I knew what this meant, but I was in denial, for sure. When my friends asked who I was smiling about, I told them I was chatting with someone on a dating app, but didn’t want to share the details until it was something serious.

Marshall figured it out pretty quickly, and because he’s a good guy, he addressed it face-to-face. He sat me down and told me in the gentlest way possible that he thought maybe things were becoming a little bit too intimate between us. He said that he enjoyed the time we spent together, but he had seen things go too far down this road with other sugar babies, and it never ended well.

Before I could try to plead my case and lie to his face (you know I was ready to tell him that he was wrong and I was totally cool as a cucumber, not in love, no way), he shut it down.

“I’m really sorry, I don’t want to be a jerk. But this isn’t a conversation. This is a breakup. I fully intend to carry out the rest of our agreement; you don’t have to worry about that at all. I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that. But it’s best for both of us if we stop seeing each other, I promise.”

I was crushed. I didn’t cry until after he left, thank goodness for that. And I never once drunk dialed him or reached out to him after that. But only because I called my best friend immediately and put her on friend-after-a-breakup duty. Anytime I started talking about him or made the slightest suggestion that I might call him, she had me hand over my phone, grabbed my hand, and took me somewhere where I could forget about it.

After Marshall, I was understandably nervous about going on another sugar date. I mean, I did have sugar daddies before Marshall that I didn’t fall in love with. So it’s not like I couldn't do it. But I thought maybe I was changing. Maybe I couldn’t do the emotionless thing anymore.

I took some time to heal, just like I would after a romantic breakup. And, just like after a romantic breakup, things got easier over time. I stopped thinking about Marshall. And after our agreement officially ended, I didn’t hear from him again. Clean breaks are for the best, they say. And even though I didn’t understand it at the time, I agree with it now.

Eventually, I put myself back out there and went on a few meet & greets with guys who weren’t a good fit. And that was okay too, actually. It meant that my intuition wasn’t broken. I was still a good judge of character. And I was able to walk away from matches that didn’t feel right. I told myself to stay patient. I would find the right sugar daddy.

About four months after Marshall ended things, I met Evan, and we’ve been dating ever since. Evan’s nice, he’s caring, and generous. And although I like his company and we get along great, I know there’s no chance I’m going to lose my head over this one. Which is just how I like it.

If I have any advice to other sugar babies who might find themselves falling in love with their partners, I would say don’t be too hard on yourself. I was just kidding about the clown emoji thing. The truth is, we’re humans with real human feelings. That’s a good thing.

What’s not great is denying those feelings or pretending that you’re able to control them when they’re really controlling you. In those cases, I would say, girl, talk to your girlfriends. Don’t lie to them. Don’t lie to yourself. And if you find yourself falling for your sugar daddy, talk to him about it. You might find yourself in one of those rare cases in which your sugar daddy also falls in love with you. Or, the relationship might end, and that’s not the end of the world. You’ll be sad for a bit, then you’ll dust yourself off and keep going.

As Marshall so kindly put it, it’s for the best.