#then we immediately got blackout drunk and he fucked me and i set a boundary of not wanting to talk about it

[sarahlynnirl]

Losing my best friend - Sugar Daddy culture is not empowering

I finally feel strong enough to talk about this and hopefully get some love, support, and reassurance from other women who agree that this is fucked up. I’ve never been “terfy on main” before so here goes. (TW child abuse + SA but no graphic descriptions of SA)

My mother is a narcissist who financially and emotionally abused my father and myself, with some additional physical abuse of me, for as long as I can remember. My dad made plenty of money but my mom controlled it all and made sure it didn’t go towards anything for me beyond the bare minimum required not to look obviously guilty of child abuse and neglect. I met Kiara (not her real name) when I was a junior in highschool and she was a freshman. Her mom was a single Korean woman doing her best to support Kiara and her 2 sisters while also running a Korean restaurant. My first jobs were a summer camp counselor and fitting room attendant at Forever 21. I would spend the last scraps of my paycheck making sure Kiara was able to order a full meal when our friends went out to dinner, buying her little gifts, and generally trying to keep us both as happy and healthy as possible.

When Kiara graduated highschool her mom drove her into Koreatown New Jersey, got her a room in the apartment of an acquaintance, and basically left her to fend for herself. Kiara spoke barely any Korean. She began working at a Korean salon where she met Ariana (not her real name). She had a NY cosmetology license, not an NJ one, while Ariana was an illegal immigrant from Korea so they were both overworked, underpaid, forced to work overtime, paid under minimum wage, and deprived of their tips. They couldn’t report or complain about this since they were both working illegally.

Kiara had to pay rent for the one room she occupied despite her land lady yelling at her, walking into her room while she slept, banning her from having friends over, and reporting to her mom if she spoke to a guy on the phone or a guy dropped her off. I was working at a restaurant in my college town on top of my classes and doing my best to keep surprising her with little gifts, but neither of us had enough disposable income to afford to visit each other. This was really difficult for me as she was my favorite person in the world and I was used to spending every second with her when we both lived in upstate NY. Ariana got them both to start using SeekingArrangement for one time meet ups with Sugar Daddies where they were paid anywhere from $200-2000 for sex. “The first time I ever did it I walked out of the hotel and just screamed because I was so disgusted and I was thinking about his wrinkly skin touching mine and all I wanted to do was get in the shower and scrub it off but I had $1000 cash in my hand for a couple hours of work which was so crazy and kinda made it all worth it ya know?” - Ariana to me

I was immediately skeptical and a little grossed out but Kiara genuinely seemed happier. She was buying new clothes for herself, ordering food to the apartment when she was hungry, and taking trips into NYC to have fun with Ariana and her friends. By the beginning of the summer of 2019, Kiara had found the Sugar Daddy who she would establish a long term agreement with and who ultimately ended up completely supporting her. I’m not going to say his name here but if people want to know it just ask, I am willing to share. He moved her into a much nicer much bigger apartment with Ariana as her roommate. He paid for me to fly up and visit her, and all of our activities during this vacation. I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry. I wish I shoved the money back in her hand before it was too late, I wish I worked harder and longer hours and got us an apartment in Florida and paid both of our rent. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t listen to my instincts and allowed her to brush off my concerns. It was the most freedom we had ever had, I ran around NYC by myself while she was at work, and my ex took the bus to NJ from upstate NY and joined us for a few days. I feel so selfish but I also didn’t know how bad things would get.

One night Kiara and I went to NYC for dinner with her SD and she took the bus back to the apartment because she had to work early the next morning. It made sense for me to stay in the city because I was supposed to visit my friend at NYU the next morning. In the Uber to his apartment alone with him he was drunk and high and I very clearly looked scared shitless. At this point she was 19 (but she had looked that way since age 17 and I doubt he would have minded if she was lying about her age), I was 21 and he was 44. He seemed offended by my discomfort and was basically like “jeez relax I’m not gonna touch you, I really care about Kiara I think she’s so amazing, just go to the guest room and sleep, make a left to walk to NYU when you wake up.” I peaced the fuck out of there early the next morning.

After that summer Kiara and Ariana quit their jobs at the Korean salon and sugaring became their sole incomes. Ariana was still doing one time meet ups, not nearly as financially stable as Kiara, and got herself into a lot of credit card debt that to my knowledge she’s still in. At this point Kiara was flying down and staying with me in Florida so often that people at my college thought she went there too. I also wasn’t working at this point because college had gotten harder and my ex was fucking up my mental health real bad. He had given me a coke problem and Kiara sending me “grocery money” was enabling me to continue. I wasn’t honest with her about where all the money was going. During Halloween week we didn’t know that she couldn’t just snort molly (MDMA) with the frequency I was doing coke, she ODed, my guy best friend took us to the ER, it was so fucking scary, she got IV fluids for 2 hours and made a full recovery, she stopped doing molly, I kept doing coke. I’m so sorry :(

In November her SD paid for us to take a trip to Cancun Mexico. He was with us for the first part of the trip and this is where things started to get really bad. He tried to be my friend and act the way a boyfriend of my best friend who was my age would, but it was creepy and wrong and I was so uncomfortable. He asked about my drug use in a way that was gross and shamey and basically him seeing me as the “coke whore” stereotype...while continuing to buy me more coke. He also brought and gave us ecstasy pills. He asked really invasive questions about my relationship with my ex, why I stayed, my sex life, etc. It felt like an uncle asking me these questions, I did NOT wanna talk about any of this with him. But from what I did say it was very clear to someone with 44 years of life experience that I had an abusive mother, an addictive personality, and was in an unhealthy relationship. He offered to set me up with an SD friend of his looking for a sugar baby. I of course declined because I always knew this was a boundary I wasn’t willing to cross. No matter how bad my addictions got I would NOT give up that piece of myself in return for money.

In this part of Mexico, drugs that were only given with a prescription in the US were available over the counter. Kiara and I got a little box of 1mg Xanax with my money. My ex had given us Xanax a couple times in NY and we had fun with it, but at this point in time we did NOT have a problem with it. We had bought one bar, broken it in half, and each took half one night of Halloween week and called it “xanpires”, but this wasn’t something we were scripted or buying regularly from plugs. We went to dinner with her SD, we got up to go to the bathroom, and she immediately slipped and hit the ground. I was like woah did you take one of the xans and forget? Because we were supposed to tell each other if we were taking one so we could look out for each other. I was never mad at her! I never wanted money from her! I was just a little concerned, and once I determined that she was safe we thought it was kinda funny that she had taken a xan without realizing and started joking around about it. Her SD of course didn’t understand how a 19 year old and 21 year old girl joke with each other because he was a creepy old man, decided that we were “arguing”, and got up from the restaurant, walked across the street, bought a 90 count bottle of 2mg xans and gave it to me. This was honestly the most irresponsible way someone has ever treated me in my life, and this is coming from someone with an abusive and neglectful parent. Google “benzo withdrawal” if you’re not familiar with it.

We went to a different hotel, and Kiara and I both took xans and blacked out. I passed out on the guest bed, while Kiara was awake but in a conscious blackout. I woke up on the couch on the balcony (which was fine, it was comfy and I saw the sunrise over the beach. The gross part was that meant her SD had picked me up, put his hands on my body while I was unconscious and carried me out there). I remembered that at one point I had woken up, wanted to go to the bathroom or get something from inside, caught a glimpse of what I thought was them having sex, and went back outside. I mentioned it to Kiara and she had no memory of it whatsoever, she thought all she had done was gone to sleep. She was rightfully pissed the fuck off that her SD had taken advantage and done things with her while she was blacked, screamed at him, he gave us a half ass apology, and bought us more stuff (buying our silence). He finally flew home and we got to enjoy the trip with just each other, but I was careless with the dosage of a drug called tramadol, and I ODed with my head in her lap...I’m sorry. When I woke up I was hallucinating, hearing voices, crying hysterically and terrified. Kiara called my ex who asked how many mg I took, told us I was 100mg short of the amount that would require medical attention, made me laugh, and told me to go to sleep. I recognize how scary and unfair to her this was and I really do take responsibility for my actions. The day I was supposed to leave I did ecstasy, hooked up with a guy from Canada, and tried to skip my flight. She was mad because like yeah what the fuck. She got me on the flight, the ecstasy comedown hit, and there’s pictures of me crying in the airport because I hated when we fought.

I was supposed to stop in Miami, then fly back to my college town but while in Miami I texted my granny that I was “sad and really didn’t feel good and could she and my uncle visit me at the airport and bring my uncles dog?”. Her parenting instincts went off that something was very wrong, made me skip the flight, picked me up from the airport and took me to her house where I immediately threw up and ran an extremely high fever that night. She said it was one of the scariest nights of her life and she kept checking on me to see if I needed to go to the hospital. She drove me back to my college town where my guy best friend took me to the ER and it came out that Kiaras SD, in addition to giving me drugs, had also allowed me to drink Mexican tap water throughout the entire trip. I was treated for that + given chlamydia meds just in case since I’d had unprotected sex in a foreign country. I was fine, promised to do better, Kiara forgave me, things started to go back to normal. Except I had begun taking Xanax daily to deal with the anxiety of the illness...and she had a trip to Bali planned.

During that trip things managed to get even worse. She was there with her SD and another Korean friend and her SD was pressuring her and guilting her into sex, isolating her from her friend, going through her phone, and becoming extremely aggressive. She would call me crying and having panic attacks and I would walk out of class to try to comfort her over FaceTime. She did not have panic attacks before this trip. She begged to go home early because something was very wrong but he said it was a waste of money and kept her in Bali until the planned end of the trip. I think it was almost a month. She sent me a recording she secretly took of him screaming at her and her saying “don’t touch me, don’t grab me like that, leave me alone”. When she got back to the US I was begging her to stop. I was so worried for her safety. I said the money wasn’t worth it, we’ll get jobs, please just stop. I’m pretty sure he read those messages. We also had a suspicion that he had installed spyware on her phone but were never able to prove it. At this point I also reached out to my dad for help and his response was basically “I don’t care, not my problem, focus on school”. I reached out to my granny who absolutely cared, but her response was “I’m sorry but I can’t afford to support her, I have to focus on taking care of you, if she won’t stop this you’ll have to stop being friends with her”.

I went home to New York for winter break, suffered through my first round of Xanax withdrawal and was truly trying to get better but my ex manipulated his was back in my life and got me addicted again....but now this bottle of 90 had run out. I went back to my college town, got scripted, and was copping street bars when my script inevitably ran out early. What comes next is blurry for obvious reasons. We moved to the town in Florida my granny lived in and got an apartment together. The female friends she made in our town (my current home) she got most of them into sugaring and using SeekingArrangement. Things deteriorated super fast at this point. I was struggling hard, failing my online classes, and eventually got completely financially cut off by my parents. My granny was paying my half of the rent and my puppy’s vet bills but I was too embarrassed to admit I couldn’t afford groceries. Kiara was pressuring me hard to go on SeekingArrangement but I still refused. I would sit on the floor of the bathroom in a towel after I showered and just cry because the steam made me nauseous and dizzy since I wasn’t eating.

I met my current boyfriend and something just started to click: I didn’t wanna live like this anymore. The mom of a friend from this town who also refuses to sugar landed me an interview at the gym I currently work at, I fought for the job, and I got it. Now I knew I didn’t wanna be completely fucked up all the time anymore but I was still doing enough Xanax to keep me out of withdrawal. The 2mg that had blacked me out at the beginning were now just barely enough to keep me functional. Kiara and I were fighting frequently and bad by this time. She and her partner in sugaring, Mena (not her real name but pretty close to it, fuck this bitch fr) were expecting me to keep how they made their money a secret....from friends and guys that I saw every single day. They both very obviously did not work and were flexing new cars, designer clothes, and cash all over their social media. Kiara thought she could cover her ass by saying she dealt drugs but it was also obvious that she wasn’t putting the time into that to come up with the amount of money she had. The only one dealing drugs was me, and not enough to do anything flashy, just enough that in addition to my work money I was usually getting enough to eat. But there were still some times when the previous weeks paycheck had run out and I was having my first meal of the day at 3pm after someone had bought adderall from me. We had our serious serious fight where she threw my stuff in the lawn and I lived with my current boyfriend full time for about a couple weeks since my bedroom at my granny’s was getting refloored when this happened.

By January 20th he was concerned by my Xanax problem and wanted me to seriously try to stop. At the time I started tapering because I wanted the girlfriend title but I’m forever grateful for him giving me a reason, even if it was a shallow one, because I just needed to START. We tried to reconcile once, despite boyfriend and guy best friend begging me not to, and of course the same problems reappeared, we had another serious fight and haven’t spoken since.

Now the fog is clearing and today I’m 96 days clean of xanax, 16 days clean of all benzos, and 19 days clean of gabapentin (what was keeping me from having a seizure while quitting benzos). But it’s hard because being out of the fog means feeling all of my emotions, even the really bad ones. This past week I’ve been waking up and crying sitting in front of my mirror trying to put my makeup on for work and it just drips right off and I have to start over. She was my best friend for 8 years. My favorite person. My partner in life. I loved her more than anyone.

My boyfriend and guy best friend are pretty uncomfortable when they hear someone express an opinion of me that’s “Kiara’s side of the story” and I don’t correct it. Both of them saw exactly how bad it got near the very end and don’t get why I don’t defend myself more or tell people about her letting my dog eat dab (THC) wax while she was supposed to be watching her and having to be rushed to the animal hospital TWO separate times. (She’s a Pomeranian and the highly concentrated THC was super dangerous to her tiny little body). Yelling at me and giving me the silent treatment because less than 48 hours after my SA she expected me to drive her to a hair appointment in Miami and I woke up late and didn’t get her there on time with traffic. Me begging her to be there for me when it felt like everything was falling apart and I self harmed for the first time and her leaving me to go on a vacation to Orlando with a girl we didn’t even really like. Me not wanting to sleep in the apartment alone after my SA and her not letting me sleep in her bed anymore, her and Mena just dumping me at the neighbor’s so they could continue to sugar, party, and see guys our age at night (this sounds super awful but neighbors roommate —> current boyfriend. He kept me safe until I felt better, was really sweet and careful, and I was the one to make the first move). There’s more but I really don’t like talking about it, after the abuse she went through and I assume is still going through, I expect her to be pretty damaged and not have it in her to treat people right all the time. Not exposing every bad thing she’s ever done to all our mutual friends and acquaintances is kind of my last gift to her.

I also admit that sugaring wasn’t responsible for everything that went wrong. Loving an addict is difficult and exhausting and I went through it myself with my ex. I was also out bi and she was “probably straight, maybe a little bi-curious” in her words. But when she was drunk or on Xanax she’d kiss me first...we had done more than kiss but only during 3somes with a guy. I don’t know, I think I loved her more than I was supposed to and some of the stuff she’d say made me think she saw me in a way she really didn’t. When we first moved to this town I had a thing with a girl and expected it to be no big deal but things here were different than up north. I got called the d slur for the first time by someone who wasn’t joking. It was like getting slapped I was so shocked and hurt, I truly didn’t think that happened anymore. I think she saw what happened to me and kinda closed off that part of herself because she didn’t wanna experience that herself. She stopped making out with me at bars and parties after that and it made me sad and maybe a little jealous. But I really do blame her SD for basically “breaking her”, for handing me that first bottle of free Xanax, for a lot of other little things that I can’t possibly include because this is already way too long. This is my first time even saying this much. Feel free to add your own experiences or thoughts on this or anything you’d like. [I’m prepared to get death threats or called a SWERF or whatever but I don’t care, now that I started talking about this I’m not going to stop.]

#terf safe #terfs please touch #terfs please interact #radfem #radical feminists please touch #radical feminst #radical feminism #terf #swerfs please interact #swerf #anti prostitution #addiction #recovery #terfs do touch #sugardadddy

[spursnroses]

So I’m still trying to process what happened last night. I need to write it out because I have no one nor place for it. First, I am going to warn you that this post will contain triggers such as mental illness, suicidal ideations/suicide that involves a family member, violent threats/verbal abuse, sexual abuse, alcohol abuse, and family death. Please do not read if you cannot handle such heavy content.

Last night my mother ended up drinking quite a bit, and we got into a fight.

She threw a temper tantrum for a very stupid reason - her phone died and her only phone charger was too short because over a couple of weeks ago my cat chewed up her other one which she left out despite knowing about his chewing habits by the way. She ranted about wanting to kill my cat/wishing he would die. She then threatened to take my phone and break it, so she made several attempts to grab it from me, but I refused. It turned into a wrestling match - I tried shoving her off me.

Of course, I grew upset. I kept telling her to stop or that she was making me angry. She wouldn’t listen. She deliberately kept me from going into my room so I could remove myself from the situation. I finally gave up and pushed my phone into her chest: “You want my phone so damn bad. Here you go.” I walked past her into the bathroom to wash off the blood from the scratch she gave me in the process.  This made her angrier and shoved my phone back into my jacket’s pocket violently and tried to rip my jacket. She started to mock me for being hurt. She deflected by making claims that she was just playing around and that I always treat her she was such a horrible person and mother. That she’s an abuser. That I should go live with my “father” who never had anything to do with me in my entire life.

I tried to defuse the situation once again by trying to console her because I already felt tired by this point. I brought her a cup of water then she went to bed hoping she’ll just sleep it off. I was wrong.

She came back out and rummaged through the kitchen’s drawers. I pleaded with my mother from killing herself for however many times. She first cut her arm and her leg. She stood there in the kitchen with a knife to her throat. Eventually, I was able to calm her down. When she returned to her room, I immediately hid all the objects she could hurt herself with and she finally went to sleep.  For many years, ever since I was a child, I lived with a severely mentally ill and single parent. My youngest memory of her mental illness remains fresh in my mind - I would be six years old and get up in the mornings to make breakfast and wandered outside alone while she still slept in bed almost all day. I found myself terrified by her violent outbursts or meltdowns - I would lie through my teeth to avoid her anger - sometimes I still am terrified. She depended on me a lot for emotional support despite being a child; wanting to be the best daughter, of course, I did whatever I could to make her happy. People would constantly compliment me on how mature I was for a young girl.  I used to be highly sensitive during my early childhood - I would cry at the simplest “no” - but I think it had a lot to do with emotional neglect. As I grew older, I detached myself from emotions. Today I still struggle with expressing how I feel.

I carry a lot of trauma from life - my mother, though most of it is unintentional, emotionally manipulated and abused me for who knows how long and her past boyfriend who sexually abused me when I was five and six years old. Growing up deaf came with no easy tasks too. I already knew I was different from other kids when I walked on the playground with no friends. I experienced constant fatigue and anxiety.

Recently, I lost both of my grandparents who helped to raise me; they were my biggest support system. In 2015, my grandma unexpectedly grew ill and passed away on my birthday. My grandpa had early-onset dementia, and it was awful and stressful. He eventually succumbed to his bodily ailments in 2019. I watched and said my final goodbyes to both of them on their deathbeds. That’s when the drinking escalated especially since my grandma died. Alcoholism runs deep in my family. My grandpa, unfortunately, drank, his brother and sister also drank to themselves to death, and now my mother and aunt drink heavily.

When my mother drinks, she binges to the point she rages or blackouts. She has called in sick to work multiple times before because she’s so hungover. 50/50 of the time when she’s drunk, she’ll start picking fights with me. On a few occasions, it has become physical such as blocking my path or cornering me but most of the time it evolves into name-calling, berating, and guilt-tripping. She often breaks things when she goes into a white-hot rage. There are dents on the walls of the bathroom. A few weeks ago, she shattered one of my grandma’s possessions. She once ripped the front door off its hinges which I later fixed.  She sometimes brings strange men to the house, and last year, one of them crawled into my bed naked and grabbed my wrist waking me up. It scared me so badly. Thankfully he didn’t do anything to me because I jerked away and asked, “What are you doing?” and he left my room. I woke my mom up and had him leave. My mother still had the gall to say I was just dreaming it. After that incident, I installed a lock on my door and sleep with a tazer under my pillow.

I have accepted at this point in life it is out of my control. I can’t stop her from drinking. I can’t force her to seek treatment.

She always had a poor temper and suicidal tendencies though. It just intensified with alcohol. One time she took a bunch of pills with vodka and fell in the shower mostly unresponsive. I called my aunt for help, and she came over; so did the paramedics. She spent a few days in an institution for observation and treatment, but that never really helped her. This was not her first episode; she ended up there a few times - over a year ago her former counselor called the police on her and they came to the house. One of the policemen found the pill bottle with my name on it and accused me of giving my mother the bottle though this situation was beyond my control. She ended up at the hospital then transferred to the institution for suicide watch. She never became the better for it. She refuses and claims nothing ever helps her. Lately, I have been trying to distance myself from my mother. It’s difficult to set boundaries because she constantly crosses them. I have grown to become very angry and resentful especially towards her. My mother is extremely emotionally enmeshed. She depends on me for emotional support, but after so many years, it is starting to wear me down. I no longer want to feel responsible for her emotions. I honestly have no support system in place. I don’t have any close friends to talk about what I’ve been going through. My aunt is clueless about what goes on at home, and I don’t intend to tell her about it because I know it just would cause more problems.  Sometimes, I just want to scream, kick, and cry. My life can be literal purgatory. I feel very trapped. I want so badly for something or someone to whisk me away from this life. It amazes me that I don’t act as fucked up as I truly am.

#i feel a lot better after writing this #thank you if you read this i just needed the space to pour this incoherent mess of my mind

[razorsrosaries]

hey. idk how many trans folks follow me. but from a somewhat adult “fully” transitioned trans man, here’s a tip. you do not have to be a vessel for a cis man (or woman, idk) to figure out their sexuality. you are worth much more than being their part time therapist to make them not feel icky about sleeping with a trans person. fuck people who want to fuck you. don’t fuck people who want to learn something about themselves or feel better about themselves by fucking you. you’re not a trophy. you’re not a prize, you’re not an experiment. and you should be treated as infinitely more than that. you’re a human being who wants to experience intimacy and pleasure. and you deserve that. don’t let these nasty ass cissies make you feel like you’re anything less. do not settle for less. ever. i love you.

#trans #transgender #transmasc #lgbt #my posts #i said fully in quotation marks because since i’ve had top surgery i think as long as i continue with my testosterone i won’t need to #do much else #a hysterectomy in a few years maybe but whatever #anyways this is because my friend came out to me #then we immediately got blackout drunk and he fucked me and i set a boundary of not wanting to talk about it #and he ended our entire fucking friendship over one mistake we weren’t even sober enough to fully remember