A month after I broke up with Scorpio-No I was approached by a man who I thought was the one. Loaded, handsome and while he had a lot of baggage, it wasn’t as bad as the previous. No drugs or drama in the normal Miami respect and while it was long distance, he was financially helping me and showing me parts of the world. I liked the stability. I met his family and they received me well and of course I’m off in fairy tale land thinking I’m moving to Europe and opening a Pilates studio. (Y’all I was dead serious. Hilarious).

Long story short that ended. Distance, lack of communication and honestly a bit of cheapness made me realize I was wasting my time. From the age to the threatening messages from his ex wife this was going nowhere fast. Still the idea of an older man paying my bills was so appealing and once again here I go falling in love with potential and not reality.

We broke it off in June and didn’t speak for a month. He was stalking me from his rogue account (yes I see you @letiziaferri2018) and whatsapping me to ask how I was every week. He saw my travels to NY, LA, SAN FRAN,VEGAS and wanted to know all the tea. Withholding everything I was cordial and cool but of course guarded. I was butt hurt. He wasted my time. I had a taste of the good life and I wanted it back. Not him just the life. He told me he was coming here for Halloween and wanted to link up and I said hey if I’m single and you’re single why not. The sex is good and I don’t have to add another one to the roster. My birthday rolled around – which he was very aware of – and when the day come I received nothing. Mr. Millionaire didn’t send your girl a bag or a pair of Jordan’s or even a fucking card. I was outraged and way insulted and I cussed him the fuck out. We hadn’t spoken since.

Last night your bitch rolls up dripping in gold looking taller and skinner than Beyoncé and definitely Foxxier than all the Cleopatras to come before. I purposely went to the same restaurant as him with a different group to show up and show out. Made a lap – said hi to his business partner and ten minutes later he’s running over to me asking me to sit with him. I politely declined. After my meal i went over to the table, flirted with his half drunk business partner, said hello to my friends who all said i looked amazing (really it was a vision) and went back over to my side of the section. I could feel the eyes from the Oliver People’s on my ass.

I went home and FaceTimed new bae. Released a shit ton of anxiety. Rubbed some probiotic in my snatch and went to bed. I woke up this morning laughing and now i have a photoshoot.

Money can’t buy class. Or morals. Or generosity. It’s usually the people who have less that do more for you. Some people will always be working and living on their time. They expect you to drop everything for them and to move how they move. I’m not opposed to a few fun nights with an ex, but i am opposed to the idea that i should say how high when you say jump. Especially when you do nothing for me. No money no honey motherfucker. I have way too many options out here.

So in my quest for health and personal fitness (and a sponsor because who really wants to work) beware of the Splenda Daddy. It’s one thing not to have the funds it’s another to have them and be stingy. Some people are so poor all they have is money. And most people are all talk. Know your worth, then add tax. And find the self made man. The one who values the struggle, the hard word and the come up. I’ve always worked and I always will. So if I’m laying next to you, you need to be making my life easier – financials included. My goal in life is not to fuck wrinkly old balls for free. Put your money where your mouth is or shut the fuck up.