I live in Los Angeles, where there are definitely a decent number of well-to-do men. However, I’ve never run in those circles and I don’t particularly want to be part of that scene. Maybe someday I’ll meet a rich guy who will change my mind, but as it stands, I feel awkward around wealthy people.
- My family never had any money. I grew up in the Midwest in a middle class family. We lived comfortably, sure, but my parents had their share of financial hurdles. I never wanted for anything but I also wasn’t spoiled. Little treats meant a lot to me and they still do. Wealth is totally foreign to me in pretty much every possible way.
- I don’t have money now either. I moved out to the West Coast to be an actress and now I’m a writer. In fact, if I’m brutally honest, what I’ve really been all these years is a waitress. I don’t love it but it’s kept me afloat. I take care of myself but I’ve never had a lot of disposable income. I’m fine with that, but it means I wouldn’t know how to act around people who’ve never had to worry about making ends meet.
- Material things don’t matter to me. To me, life is about experiences. I don’t care about stuff. Way too many people place importance on material things and that’s not who I am. It’s nice when a guy makes sweet gestures sometimes, but giving me presents doesn’t make up for a lack of emotional intimacy.
- I don’t have anything in common with rich guys. If I do ever come into a serious amount of money, I’ll probably give it away. I’m not saying there aren’t good men out there who also happen to be rich, I simply don’t think our life experiences would line up well enough to make a go of it. Of course, I should never say never, but I think it’s a very slim chance.
- The financial inequality weirds me out. I’m pretty secure in who I am, but I do feel awkward about my lack of money when I’m around those who have it. I know it’s stupid, but I would always feel an unspoken sense of inferiority if I dated a wealthy guy. I’ve never felt like I could be myself around rich people.
- I’m independent and I pay for my own things. I have an easier time handling my pride when a guy who doesn’t have much money wants to get me something. It seems like a sweeter gesture when he doesn’t have a ton of cash to throw around. If a wealthy man wanted to pay, I know my pride would bristle up.
- I don’t need a guy to take care of me in that way. I’ve never been a gold digger and I’m not going to start now. I have always worked my butt off so that I can take care of myself. I’m proud of that. I don’t need some Prince Charming to sweep in and take that—and my self-respect—away from me.
- Going to fancy places isn’t my thing. It never has been and it never will be. Even if I do get dressed up, I’m ready to be done with it in a couple hours. I’m a chill girl and I like more laid-back environments and situations. I feel like if I dated a rich guy, there would be expectations I simply couldn’t (and wouldn’t want to) meet.
- My values don’t line up with most of those guys. OK, so this is a broad assumption, but I’m willing to bet that I’m right about the majority of them. The rich men I’ve met in this city live in an entirely different head space than I do. We don’t see anything from the same perspective. Even if we did, that doesn’t erase my discomfort.
- I don’t like feeling like the poor kid in the room. I’m not proud of that, but it’s true. I once dated a guy who was best friends with a multimillionaire. He was super sweet, but I couldn’t help feeling weird in his big fancy house interacting with his cold, snobby wife. I dreaded spending time there.
- Hiding my disdain for superficiality never works out. My feelings always show all over my face. It’s a problem when I want to hide an emotion that isn’t nice. I have no patience for guys who think they’re a big deal because they’re rich. A lot of women are into that, but I’m not one of them. It doesn’t impress me in the least.
- I’m happiest with a man who takes care of his bills and works hard. I don’t ask for a lot, just a good person who does the best he can. I want someone like me, not someone who had everything handed to him and doesn’t appreciate it. I would never get along with an entitled rich boy, so I’m not going to try.
