I really feel the need to clarify the title of this blog- as I’ve been “notified” that it insinuates that I’m a gold digger. Let me just make one thing clear– if I was TRULY a gold digger- when I met my husband who… unlike the other physicians I had dated (um by the time I got married was likely half the staff at NYC’s St. Luke’s Roosevelt and Mt. Sinai)- he was NEVER one to wear his M.D. status on his sleeve, and lived an extremely modest lifestyle ( no pimped out Porsche Convertible Boxster with M.D. plates for him)… I would have left skid marks I’d be outta there so fast.
No, he drove a basic two-door Honda, lived in an apartment with the original carpeting (which also happened to adorn the walls — don’t ask) and hand-me down furniture that had likely been fixtures in his grandfather’s apartment. I really think the fact that he was so unassuming, and truly felt no attachment to material possessions was what drew me to him. (And is now one of the things that is so utterly maddening about him).
I use the word sugar daddy in this blog mainly as a tongue n’ cheek description and to express the utter irony of the situation- I mean why else marry someone 15 years older than you– if not for money– right? No I didn’t marry my sugar daddy but sometimes, for a brief moment I almost wish I did.