Last night as I cleaned and polished my wedding ring I began thinking about an acquaintance of mine whom I worked with a couple of years back. We’ll call her Goldie. Goldie was your typical - I’ll date you, but what are you going to buy me- type of girl and when it came to men, the richer, the cuter. She was four years older than I and a very attractive girl, the type that made every man- or woman - old and young stare as she walked from one end of the hall to the other. The minute she found out I was engaged her eyes jumped to my left hand and instead of admiring my beautiful ring she began to inspect every diamond holding my hand to the light. This happened everyday as if she were trying to decide if it was real or fake.
Something about Goldie, she LOVED spending money and even more when the money wasn’t hers. She was the type that when complimented on her outfit, instead of thank you she would quote the price. Do you know what girls I’m talking about?
- “Hey, nice purse.”
-“Coach, four hundred dollars. Or,
-“Hey, I love your shoes,”
- “Chanel, $250.
Don’t see the problem yet? Well maybe I forgot to add that before all that she would also state the name of the man coughing up the money for her expensive addictions. Some of them had been casual flings, others had been a bit more serious and Goldie serious meant these men had spent well over one grand over a period of three months. She could go on and on about the type of wedding she would have down to the size and cut of the engagement ring she would demand.
If you don’t know me then you must know that behind this sweet, tender smile of mine (wink, wink) is a somewhat short tempered woman full of arguments and opinions dying to say what she really thinks instead of what she should in order to keep the peace. I was biting my tongue too hard when I finally snapped at her one day in my own, “I care about you” kind of way. I told her she had nothing to be proud of every time she showed off to the world how much money men would spend on her and that goes for all the other women who take pride in being gold-diggers. Take pride in making your own money, spending your own money, and being independent! There’s a difference between caring if your date pays for your dollar movie or your dinner all together and making your date pay for your next shopping spree.
Goldie was upset, I mean, I did come off a bit cruel but what was I supposed to say - “Congrats on depending on men?” The last thing you want is for a man to think you depend on them much less think you owe them anything. I’ve never felt comfortable accepting any gifts or asking a man to buy me something but yet I see women doing it all the time like it were the most normal thing to do. While some of us feel bad enough when ordering dessert, other women have no problem ordering the new Louis Vuitton handbag…..and wallet! (No, I am not jealous!)
I can go on and on about gold-diggers but then I suddenly remember that I secretly most hate men and I jump over to the other side of the fence. Many men see women as sex objects yet I hear them crying all the time about how all women want is their money. Cry me a river, and in the words of my pal Goldie, “The day men stop treating women as sex objects, women will stop seeing them as their own personal bank accounts.” Wow, that was liberating!
It works both ways but men need to let go of this issue especially upon meeting someone new. Not all women want your money and besides, gold-diggers weren’t born, they were made. Men let women get away with this all the time and they don’t think twice before handing over the money, so thank them and don't blame all of us. Also don't confuse someone who simply wants to be treated the right way with a gold-digger meaning that you don't use that as an excuse for your cheapness. "What?! She wants ME to pay for the entire date?! What a gold-digger! I deserve better." Yeah. Heard that one plenty. Next excuse please.
So is this issue affecting you in your relationships or in this dating scene? Any horror, sugar daddy or gold-digger stories?

Recent Comments