The Unexpected Bond Between My Sugar Daddy and My Family

I had no intention of introducing my sugar daddy to my family.

As the youngest of three brothers, I had never even brought home a boyfriend. It’s not just my brothers who are the problem. My mom is one of the most judgmental people I’ve ever met in my life. She thinks that she has a good read on people. And if you don’t fall into the category of “being one of the good ones” within the first thirty seconds of meeting her, you’re toast, forever. But, she’s not as good of a read of character as she thinks she is. And she’s written off plenty of people who are genuinely good and kind.

My dad is a saint, but he is definitely the odd duck in the family. He spends most of his time in the garage putting together model engines. He doesn’t have a strong opinion on just about anything. And if he disagrees with the abrasive personalities of his sons and their mother, he doesn’t say anything.

The truth is, I always identified the most with my dad. He even set up a reading corner in the garage for me so that I could hang out with him while I was growing up. When I moved out five years ago, he kept the reading chair in the corner, always dusted and ready for me.

So, you can see why when I lost my job 6 months ago, I didn’t feel particularly wild about telling my family about it. I knew that my brothers were going to immediately grill me about who my boss was and how they could find him to intimidate him into hiring me back. I knew that my mom would start ranting about how I should have seen this coming if I had only learned how to read people as she could, so that I could see when I was being betrayed. And my dad would be quietly sad for me, which was the worst of all.

I had some friends at the time who were sugaring, so I asked them if they thought I would be a good sugar baby. They joked that I would be great as long as I didn’t tell my family about it.

I had kept boyfriends secret from my family before, so I figured that this wouldn’t be so different.

When I met Mitch, I instantly felt like, “Okay, here’s a mature man with his life figured out.” He planned everything in advance. He asked questions and actually listened to the answers. He always paid for the bill. Things were just so easy with him.

I knew that Mitch was a corporate lawyer, but I never asked him for the specifics of his job. And he didn’t really talk about it, except maybe to call me up to celebrate if they had a big win or to reschedule a date if he had to work late.

Unbeknownst to me, Mitch was a lawyer at the business where my dad worked. They didn’t work shoulder to shoulder, but they were around each other enough to make small talk in the elevator.

Anyway, things were going well with Mitch, and I was using my free time to look for jobs so that I could stop lying to my family about how I was really spending my time. These were some of the best months of my life, to be honest. I slept in. I read a lot. My apartment was super clean. There was just this underlying stress about lying to my family that was ruining the good time.

About three months after meeting Mitch, he asked if I would be interested in attending some work events with him. I actually thought that this wouldn’t be such a bad idea for me to start making my own business connections that could maybe lead to a job opportunity. I ran it by Mitch, and he was supportive. He said he knew of some people who were attending who might have job openings in other companies.

So, I was already nervous going into that first mixer, thinking that I would want to make a good impression on Mitch’s colleagues. But, as you already probably guessed, my dad, being there straight up ruined that plan.

There wasn’t some big moment of recognition and yelling or anything like that. Luckily, most people at the party didn’t recognize me as being my dad’s daughter since it had been many years since I had been to any kind of work family BBQ with my dad.

My dad tapped me on the shoulder and asked if we could speak outside, which is when I probably turned as white as a sheet. He shook Mitch’s hand and told him that he heard there was a young lady here looking for a job, so he wanted to chat with her one-on-one.

Once we were in the hallway outside, my dad took on a tone that I had never seen from him before. He was angry and disappointed that I had lied to the family about being out of a job. And he said that he didn’t even want to know how I had met Mitch, but that he had a reputation in the office for “dating young.”

Mitch, perhaps sensing that something was off, came out into the hallway just as my dad was telling me that he would order a car for me to go home. I think he must have realized pretty quickly what the dynamic was, and he started to stammer about not knowing that I was his daughter and that he would certainly have talked to him about it beforehand if he had known.

My dad was in no mood to talk, clearly, so he shut the conversation down and went back into the party to grab his things to go home. Mitch followed to get our coats. I went home in a cab, Mitch went home alone, and my dad went home to, I assume, tell the whole family what had happened.

The whole night, I expected a phone call from my mom or maybe for my brothers to show up at my place. But there was nothing.

The next morning, my dad called, asking if he could come over. I said, of course.

He brought coffee and bagels and sat down awkwardly at my kitchen table. The anger that I had seen last night was gone. He went on to explain what had happened after I got in the cab to leave:

Apparently, my dad was too upset to drive, so Mitch offered to take him home. He said that he wanted to talk and that he felt terrible about my dad finding out this way. My dad, perhaps still in shock, said yes, and they drove home together.

I’ll never know exactly what they said during that ride home, but it was enough to clear the air between them and come to an agreement. On the one hand, my dad said that if Mitch was serious about dating me, he would have to meet the rest of the family. But if this were a casual thing, he would keep the secret as long as Mitch promised that he would be good to me. If he found out that Mitch had done anything to hurt me, he would do everything in his power to get him fired.

When I tried to pry my dad for more details on how Mitch responded, he wouldn’t tell me.

“You have to talk to your boyfriend about how the two of you want to proceed,” he said. “I’ve made my position clear.”

Before he left, my dad said one more thing, “Your dating life is your own, I get that. But I wish you had told me about the job, honey.”

And then he left.

About an hour later, Mitch called and asked if he could come over. I told him yes, thinking that surely he was going to end things with me. I wouldn’t blame him.

He also arrived with coffee and bagels and smiled when he saw the empty take-out cup on the table.

“Your dad was here,” He assumed.

“Before you say anything,” he started, “I want to tell you that I care about you and I want to meet your family. I’m sure your dad told you that he gave me two options, and this is the one I want. I’ve heard you talk about them. I know you’re scared. But I don’t want casual, and I don’t want secrets.”

The next week, Mitch drove us to have a family lunch with just my mom and dad. Baby steps, you know. This was the moment that was the most nerve-wracking for me. I knew that my mom would either accept him or reject him on her first whim, which would set the tone for everything else.

Apparently, this time, my mom’s intuition was right. Because even with the age difference and the realization that I was dating one of my dad’s colleagues, she accepted him immediately.

“I have a good feeling about these things.”

And everything was a lot easier after that.

I did eventually get another job, not in my dad's or Mitch’s company. And Mitch and my relationship drifted into purely romantic territory. My brothers, of course, reiterated what my dad had said early on, but it never needed enforcing, and they ended up getting along really well with Mitch.

Mitch continues to treat me well, and we still have lunch with my parents about twice a month.