What sugar babies expect from their sugar daddies?

When I first came across the concept of sugar dating, my understanding was surface-level at best. I imagined a transactional arrangement—dinners, gifts, and an implicit exchange that felt uncomfortable to think about. But after speaking with several young women who’ve navigated these relationships, I realized how narrow my perspective was. Their stories are not the caricatures you see in viral tweets or judgmental comment sections. They’re nuanced, complex, and deeply personal.

Take Alicia, a 22-year-old from Texas who turned to sugar dating during her university years. Like many students, she was stretched thin—balancing a full course load, an internship, and a part-time job. “I didn’t have a lot of free time,” she told me. One night, she and her friends signed up for a handful of apps and websites, hoping to find a financial solution. After a few run-ins with scammers and a short trial-and-error phase, Alicia found what she calls a “legitimate answer” to her struggles.

What struck me in talking to her—and later to others—was how different each experience was. For every stereotype, there was a counterexample. For every assumption, a contradiction.

Stephanie, a 24-year-old law student, met her first sugar daddy while working retail in San Francisco. At first, he was just a customer who would come in often, asking for help selecting gifts for his wife. “He would say his wife was about my size,” she recalled. Eventually, he gave her the items, and what began as flirtation turned into a relationship. That arrangement was largely gift-based. A later sugar daddy was more direct—sliding her an envelope with $250 after their first date, eventually raising it to $500 once they became intimate.

For Stephanie, intimacy came after trust had been built. For others, it never came at all.

Megan, a 23-year-old Londoner who works in parliament, doesn’t even use the term sugar baby. She describes her arrangement as entirely one-sided. “The guy who sends me money refers to himself as a pay-pig,” she said. After he repeatedly offered to send her money with no strings attached, she gave him her PayPal details. “I just have to message him with a money emoji and I immediately get money transferred to my account.” She used the first transfer to buy a Nintendo Switch. “The concern about what people would think if they knew is totally worth all the hours spent playing Mario Kart.”

What fascinated me was how clearly these women articulated their boundaries. They weren’t passive participants being swept into situations they didn’t understand. They were strategic, self-aware, and often in control.

Leah, who sugar-dated during her undergraduate years in New York, described the work behind the glamour. “For most of these men, a big part of the fantasy is that you only have eyes for them, which typically means dedicating a lot of time texting them or sending emails,” she explained. “When you’re together, you can’t just zone out; you have to actually listen and (at least pretend to) care about what he’s saying.”

She emphasized that sugar dating—like other forms of sex work—requires emotional labor that’s rarely acknowledged. “Sex workers have lives outside of their career, the same way anyone does. They’re not just lying on their $2,000 sheets eating cherries all day, waiting for you with bated breath.”

Of course, not all sugar daddies are created equal. The women I spoke with were quick to distinguish between good and bad experiences. Deborah, a 21-year-old student from Nigeria, said a bad sugar daddy is someone who wants control. “They wrongly think you’re a young naive girl that they can ease off.” She described her ideal arrangement as one where there’s no pressure, no possessiveness, and a clear understanding that love is not part of the equation.

Stephanie echoed that sentiment. “Good sugar daddies don’t pressure intimacy, period. They allow all benefits to grow organically, but show from the outset their intentions to be generous.”

What surprised me most was how these women talked about power. Far from seeing themselves as exploited, many described their arrangements as empowering in specific, pragmatic ways. Megan put it plainly: “From a feminism point of view, in my own situation I feel like I have the power and I’m in control.”

That’s not to say sugar dating is without complication. All of the women I spoke with requested anonymity, and their reasons varied—from judgment in professional circles to concerns about how their families would perceive them. There’s still a stigma, and they’re acutely aware of it. But the stereotypes—that sugar babies are desperate, damaged, or simply naive—didn’t hold up against the women I met. They were students, professionals, and artists. They were managing budgets, paying tuition, and in some cases, simply enjoying the freedom that came with a financial cushion. They were clear-eyed about what they were doing and why.

As Leah told me, “A narrative that I’ve heard pretty often is that sugaring—or any kind of sex work, really—is easy. But glamour aside, the job is gruelling.” Still, she added, “I’d lie through my teeth about the amount of men I was currently fucking and let the daddy-to-be buy me expensive lingerie (which I still wear) and sex toys (which I still use) in exchange for a few dates.” Her tone wasn’t ashamed—it was matter-of-fact, even amused.

If there’s a through line in all these stories, it’s that sugar dating resists a single narrative. It can be transactional or relational, sexual or platonic, empowering or draining—sometimes all at once. What makes it worth understanding isn’t the shock value, but the humanity behind the label.

These women aren’t asking for anyone’s approval. But maybe they deserve something rarer: the simple recognition that their choices, however unconventional, are theirs to make.