The XX Factor: What women really think.

Richard Gere Need Not Apply

The more I read these posts about the struggle of the work-life balance, the more I realize that I should refine my initial definition of the sugar daddy that I at some level, coldly practical though it may be, want. To have a true sugar-daddy/daughter relationship (wow, it sounds a whole lot grosser when you add the "daughter" half), the woman is supposed to be sort of indebted, right? Even if he tells her she isn't? I'm picturing a Pretty Woman scenario: No matter how much you've changed his life in that sexy red dress of yours, as long as he's still the sole provider, you're still the whore.

That's not what I want. That's humorously far from what I want, and I'd imagine the same is true for many women my age. But Melinda, I've had those co-workers you mention, the ones who pull me and other twentysomething women aside and tell us that they're making less money now than they did before they left to raise their kids. It doesn't make me resent them; it makes me terrified.

So the fantasy, as June calls it, of the rich white knight who takes all your money worries away is just my flippant answer to the troubling questions that bubble up when that co-worker spouts the truth about salaries after a lengthy maternity leave, or when I read those doomsday articles. I don't really think a man will take all my troubles away, nor do I let that vague hope prevent me from the sort of aggressive self-promotion you advise, E.J. (Believe me, it took a painful amount of that to get hired at Slate!) But instead of tackling how I'm actually going to make the whole thing work—which at this point seems more an exercise in self-induced anxiety than practicality—I just pencil in the easiest solution, the fantasy solution: a rich husband. (For the record, in that fantasy, he's someone I love and respect, and part of that means he's someone who wants me to keep up my job and be successful. He just wants to pay our bills while doing it.)

The part that troubles me is that I think males probably pencil in something different when they're confronting problems, and it's probably more along the lines of "work harder." So as much as I believe I'm doing my damnedest to get ahead despite my deep-pocketed-dream-man backup plan, I wonder if I'd be going at it differently if I hadn't grown up thinking "maybe my financial situation will someday be solved by marriage," and instead had spent those years expecting that I'd have to fix it myself.

A question for the mothers of the group: If your daughter ever said "When I marry my rich husband ..." as I started doing from a frighteningly young age, would your stomach drop? Would you think you had failed somehow as a role model?