The Sugar Baby Who Helped Me Heal After a Difficult Divorce

I always thought that I would be the kind of divorcee who would get right back on her feet, maybe start a book club, drink a cheeky glass of wine with lunch, get a revenge body—you know all the ways that I could make my ex jealous.

Turns out, you don’t get to choose what kind of grief your body and mind have in store for you until you’re in the thick of it. And for me, that meant sleeping 10 hours a day (mind you, I said day, because I suddenly couldn’t sleep at night), losing a taste for all of the food I used to love, pouring out all the alcohol I had in my home after a few scary black-outs, and writing poetry that is so embarrassing, I hoped that no one would ever find my writing folder on my computer.

In short, I was a mess.

And, as my therapist reminded me, now that we had upped our sessions to twice a week, I needed to be a mess, at least for a little while. My marriage had been so picture-perfect, so absolutely appearance-based, and I had completely lost a sense of reality. And now that all the dust had settled, and I had walked away with a pretty sweet deal financially, at least sweet enough to not work for a while, I could do this: be a mess for the first time in many decades.

My friends started razzing me to do something really wild, like go bungee jumping or get a tattoo, or date a younger man. And, since I’ve always been terrified of heights and needles, well, date a younger man I did.

His name was Jeremy, and I met him on a sugar dating platform. I think I went that route simply because I thought the thrill of just making myself an account on one would be enough to scratch the itch. I honestly didn’t think there would be any young men looking for older women.

To my surprise, there were! And Jeremy was one of the first guys to reach out who lived in my city. We chatted for a while, and I admit that I put him off for a few weeks because I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. Luckily, Jeremy was patient. He suggested that we have a few video calls to get to know each other a little bit before committing to anything. And even though he didn’t ask for payment or anything for those first calls, I made sure to send him a gift card for coffee at least to thank him for his time.

Before I knew it, I was getting ready for our first in-person date. And I distinctly remember looking in the mirror as I was putting on my lipstick, and I could barely do it because I couldn’t stop smiling! I thought, “Well, this is it, I’ve finally cracked!” But, no. It had just been so long since I had that exciting feeling of going on a first date and actually being excited. I took a little bit longer to look at myself in the mirror, and I couldn’t deny it: I was glowing. I was a mess, sure. But I was having a ball!

That realization made the date one to remember. I showed up feeling relaxed and ready for anything. Later, Jeremy said that he could feel my energy radiate off me like a heat (he’s a bit woo-woo at times, and gosh, if I don’t just love him for it.) The conversation was great, and we giggled like two young things (instead of one young thing and some older lady).

And when it got to the end of the first date, Jeremy took a breath and said, “Well, it’s time to have that talk. I know this is your first time, so maybe it will feel a little bit awkward, but we’ve got to iron out a few details if we’re going to keep seeing each other.”

I knew that this was coming, but I still had no idea what to say or what to offer. Luckily, Jeremy was a soft landing for me. He said, “Maybe it would help if I asked: for you, what does the ideal relationship look like between you and me?”

I was grateful for his question; it grounded me, and suddenly things became very clear.

I told him, “I want someone to get me through the messy part. I want fun and friendship. I want someone I can call at 3 in the morning to complain about my ex, someone who’s not going to be my therapist, so we can really talk crap about the guy. I want someone to say yes when I get a crazy inkling to jump in the ocean or buy some stupid thing I don’t need. I want someone who won’t tell me to get out of bed, but will bring me donuts and coffee. I absolutely don’t want someone who is going to tell me how strong I am and how I’m going to get through this.”

Jeremy was smiling through my bizarre list of requests.

“And then,” I continued. “When the messy part is over, I want you to go. I mean, I hope it’s okay that I say that I don’t want this to last forever. I want to find love again. I want to go to work again. I don’t want some big break-up. Just, I think we’ll probably both know when it’s time. And we can end things there.”

It was probably the first time, maybe in my life, that I had felt free to actually ask for what I wanted and not feel guilty about it. Jeremy was happy to oblige.

We finished our meal and dessert, and Jeremy told me that he would send me a message the next day with some concrete details about when he would be available by phone, how often we would see each other, and his own benefits package. And just like that, I had a sugar baby. I was over the moon.

The relationship lasted exactly one year and three months. That’s how long it took me to pass through my messy phase. And I enjoyed every minute of it. I enjoyed the neighbors’ gossipy stares. I enjoyed putting my arm through Jeremy’s in public. More than that, I enjoyed the company and the validation. I enjoyed his sweetness and softness.

And then one day, at the beginning of autumn, as Jeremy walked up the driveway towards my house to pick me up for a date, I just knew. It would be our last date. And it would be wonderful. And that would be that. I made sure to keep to my end of the arrangement throughout the end of the month, plus a parting gift to let Jeremy know how much he had meant to me during this time.

And that’s the story of how a sugar baby got me through my divorce. Or rather, how I got myself through my divorce by giving into my so-called “messy” phase, which I’ve of course realized wasn’t so much “messy” as it was free.