At the age of 19, I started a freelance writing business that was very successful. I dissolved the company by his 22nd year. Not just because of the economic downturn, but because they found more lucrative careers in corporate America. Within three years, I was making a six-figure income, traveling around the country, buying stocks, and working toward a master's degree while working full time.
I've made good and bad financial choices, but I've quit my job twice and have no source of income. But thanks to divine intervention and my ability to get back in the game, I have recovered each time and come back more financially stable and resilient than before.
I now have another reasonably senior position at a Fortune 500 company, and I write this blog, sit on important non-profit committees, and attend high-profile parties in between. I am.
Let me be clear: I'm not someone who is looking for a meal ticket. I'm looking for an equivalent.
That may seem like a tall order, especially since I've dated men who paid for their dinners with coupons and successful clunkers. I've tried both because I know that assholes have checking accounts of all sizes, and that the best people aren't necessarily the richest people. (Actually, he's usually half-hearted.) But I don't just want a nice guy, I want my guy.
After about the tenth time a man shamed me for wearing $900 shoes or paying country club dues, I declared, “I no longer date men who aren't in the same financial situation.”
Photo: Depiction Image/Shutterstock
The only exceptions I allow are education professionals, retirees in certain fields, or people with similar “strong potential” based on drive, education, and ambition. I learned that if a man is ambitious and aggressive enough, he won't be financially strapped forever. Like most high-profile startups, his stock rises over time, but it's a worthy exception.
Now, before you shove it down my throat and say I'm an elitist, let me further explain my reasoning.
Similar socio-economic class = better fit.
Lately, I've started noticing that I tend to have the longest relationships with people in the same socio-economic class as myself, and tend to date men on the more affluent side.
Then I decided to represent it in numbers. The situation lasted longer and eventually became more successful when the man earned more than $75,000 a year. I can't fully explain the $75,000 number, but I'm really stuck.
In business, there is a term called key performance indicators. This essentially means that if you perform at the desired rate, you will get successful results. So considering I usually date men in their mid-30s to early 40s, it stands to reason that by then he should have a house, a car, and decent credit. And if he's making more than $75,000 a year, it's safe to assume he's similarly educated and motivated, making him more likely to be a good match.
Less wealthy men are scared of me.
Men who are not in the same socio-economic class are intimidated by the restaurants I like to go to, the type of clothes I wear, my home, etc. Little by little, they start putting me in a box and judging me based on my wealthy lifestyle rather than the fun we have together and our common interests.
The men I dated called me a “bourgeois,” and 20 minutes into the date, one even called the community I lived in “stuck up.”
I've dated men who made it clear that they were looking for a woman to be their breadwinner. And let me tell you, there's nothing attractive about men digging for gold either.
It forces men to show me who they are (minus material possessions).
It could be purely my subconscious working in favor of my theory, but doctors, lawyers, professional athletes, executives, and other similar types of people have the same lifestyle. I found myself not questioning my lifestyle choices because of my lifestyle. We had similar cars, jewelry, and other material things, leading to an unspoken belief that neither of us were dating the other for financial security.
And since men are used to impressing women with material things, it also means they have to show their true selves a little sooner. Instead of focusing on the obvious financial differences between us, I now have more time to focus on religion, family, goals, and other things that help build the foundation for a successful relationship.
High-income men are also typically committed and invested in their futures. So not only does he support my career ambitions with words of encouragement, he also empowers me to be stronger and sharper. Because he has been there and understands the high goals. -Stakes environment. That's hard to talk about with a guy who's made $30,000 in the last 10 years. It's very difficult to explain to someone why you work so hard when your income may (and may not) be a reflection of self-satisfaction. They support me emotionally, but they can't necessarily be partners for women like me.
No, I'm not shallow.
I'm sure there are many people who don't agree with my stance, and there are days when I don't agree with it myself. For example, when you date a man who earns less than $75,000 and then feel uncomfortable about the aforementioned income requirements.
Let me be clear: not dating men below a certain income doesn't mean you're shallow or preferring nice things. I'm one of the hardest working people I know. I just want a husband who works just as hard and puts just as much or more bacon on the table. If we were to go bankrupt or face tragedy, I want to know that we both have the perseverance to get through it and pick ourselves up on our own. And no one should make me feel bad about it.
However, there is one caveat. If I'm going to make an exception to the income rule, I know that the guy has to be confident in himself and his manhood. Because a man who can't protect himself next to me can't stand next to me. I'm not saying a guy who makes $50,000 can't, it's just that I wasn't lucky enough to meet him.
But until then, please show me your pay slip.
