My Date with a Billionaire

Peter* is handsome and the founder of a company that takes in over a billion in sales each year. He travels all over the world in luxury, meets with former US Presidents, and is in fantastic shape.

Asked Out by a Billionaire

It’s not everyday that one gets asked out by a billionaire. Perhaps it’s more likely for one to be struck by lightening. 

In the Age of Cyberspace, I was sent a Friend Request by a very handsome man. 

In the Age of Cyberspace, I was able to learn a great deal about this stranger before deciding to accept his request.

The Facebook Down-Low 

Peter loves to travel. He has one sibling and owns multiple properties. Peter has a full head of hair and likes to spend time on the beach. He’s a father. He’s the Founder and owner of a well-known company.

I decided to accept Peter’s request.

Those First Text Messages

Peter was over-the-moon that I had accepted his Friend Request. He wrote eloquently and asked me engaging questions before asking me out to dinner.

“I’m in my ________ home now, but I’ll be flying back to ________ and would love to take you to dinner.”

Peter proceeded to suggest 5 different restaurants, each one ridiculously expensive. He then offered to pick me up or hire a car for me.

“Thank you for the offer. I’ll meet you there.”

My History with Wealthy Men

Years ago, I was with someone wealthy. However, when our relationship didn’t work out, the wealth was used as a weapon:

What Wealth Feels Like

So, it made sense that my spiritual hackles were raised by Peter — an affluent stranger who asked me out on social media.

Still, everyone is different and everyone deserves a chance.

 To discriminate against someone wealthy is no different than discriminating against someone poor.

Our date was set.

The Little Pebble in Your Shoe

You put on your socks, step into your shoes and something doesn’t feel right. You walk around and try to ignore it, but it’s there, you can just feel that something is in the way.

Sometimes it’s the little pebble in the shoe that needs to be addressed.

My little pebble: the age difference.

Upon further internet browsing, I learned that we weren’t ten years apart as originally assumed, nor fifteen years, but 17 years apart.

Does it Make a Difference?

As a social experiment, I’m purposely not sharing which direction this age difference is. For example, is Peter:

  • 17 years younger than me?
  • 17 years older than me?

Why?

 Because it doesn’t make a difference which way the age gap falls, almost 2 decades of “Age Distance” in either direction is significant.

What Does Matter

There’s nothing like preparing for a date with a billionaire to remind someone of what really matters:

Heeding your own inner voice and guidance.

Easier said than done on the cusp of a date with a billionaire. Suddenly, everyone has to give their two cents (seriously, no pun intended;-) As Clint Eastwood says in Dead Pool:

“Opinions are like assholes, everybody’s got one.”

And the unsolicited opinions arrived:

“Seventeen years isn’t so bad.”

“Just go out with him for the experience.”

“You’ll be taken care of.”

“Who cares if you have nothing in common — he’s rich!”

“Let him spoil you. You deserve to be spoiled.”

“When he’s that rich, who the hell cares about age.”

Going Inward

Advice aside, I needed to listen to what thought was important. 

At the end of the day, it’s what YOU think that matters.

When I got quiet, I could hear my voice above the cacophony of others’:

Money comes and goes. It does not make a person. Certainly, money makes life easier. But I do not want or need a man to make my life easier. I want someone in my age range to enjoy and experience this life with on equal footing. The uneasiness in my stomach felt every time I think of this date is my body’s intuition. 

This man seems kind. I do not want to waste his time. He deserves to spend time with someone who will look forward to his company, not one who is looking for the EXIT sign as soon as they meet.

While our financial bank accounts might look a world different, we each carry a mortal bank account and deserve to spend it wisely before our unknown expiration dates.

My Decision

Once I realized that it was better — for me — to cancel our date, I took action.

Peter was a perfect gentleman, writing that he understood and wishing me and my family a Happy Thanksgiving.

My decision to cancel the date wasn’t personal to Peter; it was personal for me.

Peter “got” that. No doubt, he will meet the perfect woman for him.

The Fallout 

As with any decision we make in this world, there are reactions from those well-meaning people in our lives with their buttholes — er, opinions.

When people are disappointed in your decision, remember that it’s about them, not you.

Peter wasn’t offended in the least. He knew my decision was not about him. The age difference was my issue, not his.

My dear family and friends (not all) were overflowing with their opinions regarding my decision. I felt like I was a sport’s team, and they hadn’t liked my last play.

At the end of the day, our life’s choices are ours to live with.

Had I gone on the date or had I maintained my decision to decline doesn’t matter to anyone else — it doesn’t affect anyone else.

People who are close to us often mistake their opinions as ours.

When we are close to someone, we can easily lose ourselves in the story told to us.

But we are not someone else’s story. We can choose, at any time, to get back into the driver’s seat of our life and decide what does and doesn’t work for us.

The Good and Bad of Opinions

Opinions offer opportunities for us to consider other viewpoints and challenge our own. 

The danger of opinions, if we aren’t vigilant, is that they can stealthily morph into our own until we are living the life someone else wanted for us.

Vigilance is key. Paying attention to our body’s reactions to another’s advice. Questioning our reactions yet trusting them to guide us.

There is no wrong decision when it comes from our intuition.

*Name is altered for privacy purposes

What Wealth Feels Like

Wealth is more a state of mind than a bank statement.

            I drove a Range Rover—the high end with all of the bells and whistles. I lived in a Mediterranean style “home” just shy of 6,000 square feet. I had a second home—a 3- bedroom condo off the water with a balcony. Financially, I wanted for nothing. My net worth put me in the top 5% of the world’s wealthiest.

            I was miserable.

            According to Merriam-Webster, the first two definitions of wealth pertain to abundance in value, resources, and supply.

            So why was I miserable?

Despite having the “value, resources, and supply” in fiscal abundance, I was living an impoverished life in other aspects. A friend recently referred to my life before as “a canary trapped in a gilded cage.”

The abundance of dollars in the bank is neither good nor bad. It is our relationship with our “value, resources, and supply,” that determines a genuine sense of wealth. After all, there are those with millions in the bank who use money to control and manipulate others or who hide behind the “stuff” that money can buy yet remain miserable.

I didn’t begin to experience wealth until I left my figurative gilded cage.  True wealth is not measured by dollar signs; true wealth is the feeling of ease and pleasure.

Think of the late billionaire, Jean Paul Getty (portrayed by the late Christopher Plummer in the film, All the Money in The World) whose 16-year-old grandson, John Paul Getty III was kidnapped and held for ransom. The wealthy grandfather refused to pay ransom to rescue his grandson, and in the end, the grandfather dies alone in a 72-room mansion, alone with his German shepherds.

Wealth is more a state of mind than a bank statement. 

Since I flew out of my figurative bird cage, my bank account looks very different. I paid a fiscal price for my spiritual wealth, and I would do it all over again.

Wealth is knowing time and choices are yours. 

Think about those days when, for whatever reason, you hadn’t eaten all day. Maybe you were stuck on a delayed flight; maybe it was a religious fast—regardless, how amazing did that first bite of food taste? The feeling, the sheer pleasure experienced in abundantly enjoying that morsel was an experience of wealth.

Regardless of the number in your bank account now, you always have the option to choose wealth, to experience a sense of abundance and ease.

Ease, freedom, fun—this is what we all want to experience.

I wish each of you dear readers, great wealth.