From luxury parties to the "sugar daddy" dynamic, explore how queer survival and financial security can become an identity built on protection rather than belonging.
Gino, An interesting read for this 80+ year old gay man. In many ways, when I take a closer look as myself and ask "Who am I?" I easily reply, "I just am." I recognize the armor of safety you discuss, the surveying the room to determine how to behave, etc but by now, I have been through so much, have analyzed myself so closely, and am now dealing with the usual end-of-liife, that I really can answer, "I just am! And that feels good." I never felt that I had to proove myself as a gay man with wardrobe, bank accounts, vacation homes, etc. I just worked towards those flags of success that any person might wave. Getting my college degree. Landing a good teaching job. My first apartment. My first car. Purchasing my first home. Trips to Europe. I guess that at the point that I was not noticing the bottom line on a charge slip or bill payment signaled that I had arrived. Not to prove anything to anyone else (except maybe by mother) but myself, gay or not! Just the other day I as I was moving the three or four grocery bags to my car, I realized I had no idea how much the groceries cost. That felt good. I am fortunate. Fondly, Michael
Michael, “I just am” is about as earned as it gets. There’s a kind of wealth in reaching the point where the “receipt” matters less than the life, and plenty of men spend a fortune trying to feel that level of ease.
I had been searching for sugar daddies a couple years ago.
I was deparate for acceptance. I was broke (still am). I wanted to get out of my parent's place ASAP (still do but not as much LOL).
When I did find one and he even wired me money to prove he's real which was shocking, I felt 2 things—relief, and a chain.
I was relieved cuz of the money ofc. But the second one, it didn't hit me until a few days went by. I never met him in person, thank God, but he made me change my hair.
After a few days when I looked in the mirror a little longer than usual, I hated the way I looked and the way the hairgel felt on my head. All I wanted was an out. That's when the suffocation hardened.
I thought I'd feel safe, held, seen but I only felt the opposite of all that.
That's when I decided I'd rather stay broke and lonely if it meant I could stay true to myself.
Thank you for trusting this space with something that raw. When safety asks you to edit yourself, the price is already too high, and that chain feeling is what so many people miss when they romanticise these dynamics. Choosing your own face over borrowed comfort is brutal, and it’s real freedom.
Gino, An interesting read for this 80+ year old gay man. In many ways, when I take a closer look as myself and ask "Who am I?" I easily reply, "I just am." I recognize the armor of safety you discuss, the surveying the room to determine how to behave, etc but by now, I have been through so much, have analyzed myself so closely, and am now dealing with the usual end-of-liife, that I really can answer, "I just am! And that feels good." I never felt that I had to proove myself as a gay man with wardrobe, bank accounts, vacation homes, etc. I just worked towards those flags of success that any person might wave. Getting my college degree. Landing a good teaching job. My first apartment. My first car. Purchasing my first home. Trips to Europe. I guess that at the point that I was not noticing the bottom line on a charge slip or bill payment signaled that I had arrived. Not to prove anything to anyone else (except maybe by mother) but myself, gay or not! Just the other day I as I was moving the three or four grocery bags to my car, I realized I had no idea how much the groceries cost. That felt good. I am fortunate. Fondly, Michael
Michael, “I just am” is about as earned as it gets. There’s a kind of wealth in reaching the point where the “receipt” matters less than the life, and plenty of men spend a fortune trying to feel that level of ease.
I had been searching for sugar daddies a couple years ago.
I was deparate for acceptance. I was broke (still am). I wanted to get out of my parent's place ASAP (still do but not as much LOL).
When I did find one and he even wired me money to prove he's real which was shocking, I felt 2 things—relief, and a chain.
I was relieved cuz of the money ofc. But the second one, it didn't hit me until a few days went by. I never met him in person, thank God, but he made me change my hair.
After a few days when I looked in the mirror a little longer than usual, I hated the way I looked and the way the hairgel felt on my head. All I wanted was an out. That's when the suffocation hardened.
I thought I'd feel safe, held, seen but I only felt the opposite of all that.
That's when I decided I'd rather stay broke and lonely if it meant I could stay true to myself.
I have never told anyone this.
Thank you for trusting this space with something that raw. When safety asks you to edit yourself, the price is already too high, and that chain feeling is what so many people miss when they romanticise these dynamics. Choosing your own face over borrowed comfort is brutal, and it’s real freedom.