When I fell in love with an older man with three adult children, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
His daughters thought I was with him for his money, but when they discovered the truth about our dynamic, they tried twisting my arm, and I wasn’t having it!
I never imagined falling in love in my forties would come with so much judgment.
I’m 43, and I’ve been dating Elon, a 61-year-old widower.
He works in banking, and I’m a bartender.
Sadly, our relationship made his daughters assume that I was only after his money an opportunistic gold digger.
I understand how, to Amanda and Claire, on the surface, it looks like a cliché, a younger woman with an older, wealthier man. His two daughters certainly thought I was looking for financial gain, while their brother, Mark, was the only one who welcomed and accepted me warmly without knowing anything about my financial standing.
What his daughters didn’t know was that they couldn’t have been more wrong about me and their father’s situation. Elon isn’t wealthy anymore.
In fact, he’s broke. Meanwhile, I have a trust fund and many thriving businesses.
The truth is that bartending is something I do because I enjoy it, not because I need the paycheck. Elon’s financial struggles aren’t because he was careless with money.
He actually sacrificed everything for his late wife during her battle with cancer.
Three times, the cancer came back, and each time Elon fought harder, pouring every resource into treatment. This wonderful man maxed out six credit cards, took out a second mortgage, and drained his retirement savings to give her every possible chance.
His only goal was to make sure she lived long enough to see their daughters get married, but he failed. His wife passed away a few years before we started dating.
Now, he’s left with mounting debts, while his daughters live comfortably in their own suburban bubbles.
The pair live six hours away with their fiancés, and for the past two Christmases, Elon and I made the long drive to visit them. Both times, I was met with cold shoulders and passive-aggressive remarks!
Amanda and Claire would ignore me, pull their father away when he tried to include me in conversations and ensure their fiancés avoided me too. The duo constantly portrayed themselves as coming from some sort of high-class family.
Periodically, they dropped rude comments about me being “just a bartender” and having nothing.
They’d say things like, “At your age, being 40, it’s sad to be just that.” Elon tried to defend me as best he could.
The first year of our Christmas visit, Elon called them out for their behavior. They apologized, but only to him, but excused their behavior by saying it was hard to see their dad with someone who wasn’t their mom.
Because I loved Elon and saw a future with him, I decided to be understanding. Grief can twist emotions.
But the second year was even worse! The thinly veiled comments about my bartending work became more direct.
Amanda once laughed and said, “At your age, it’s kind of sad to be just that. Waiting for a handout from our dad.”
Claire smirked but didn’t disagree.
I didn’t correct them. I didn’t tell them about my trust fund or my businesses. I didn’t see the point.
I don’t like boasting, and frankly, they didn’t deserve to know.
I wanted Elon’s children to like me for who I am, not what I have or can give them or their father financially. Little did I know that a gift to their father would change the relationship between me and them forever.
This year, I told Elon I wasn’t going. I couldn’t put myself through that humiliation again.
He looked torn, saying, “I wish you’d come. It’s Christmas.”
“I can’t, my love. They don’t respect me.
Why should I keep showing up to be ignored?”
He sighed. “I don’t want to do this without you, plus you know my back’s been acting up. The drive’s hard alone in that ratched car without someone to help.”
Not wanting to come between him and his family, I insisted he go alone and decided to make things easier for him.
His car had seen better days and wasn’t as comfortable for his problematic back.<
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