HONEST CONFESSION: “I Married for Money and I’m Not Sorry – Here’s Why!”
When a girl marries for money, the world immediately labels her: “sponsorusha”, “whore”, “victim”. Me? Yes, I married for money and my conscience is clear. Before you judge me, hear the whole story – the one that took me from poverty to a happy home. This is not a fairy tale about romance; this is reality about survival, about love born of respect and about living without fear of tomorrow.
My father was a pianist – everyone promised him a great career, but poverty prevented him. My parents fell in love as students, got married out of passion, but reality broke them. There was no money for a Russian conservatory, so he gave lessons to rich kids from Vračara, while we – me and my two sisters – grew up in frustration. Over the years, he started drinking. Romantic? No – the nineties brought the heating turned off, requests for 200 euros from relatives for electricity and milk, and tears for my mother.
Like my father, I was a talented pianist. I inherited my mother’s voice, but studying? No way. I had to work in a boutique to feed them – and to treat my father for cirrhosis. Today I think: their marriage of love was irresponsible. All those nights with candles, the looks of debtors… I didn’t want that kind of life for my children.
There, in the boutique, I fell in love for the first time. He lived above us – two years older, he studied civil engineering. A nice, handsome guy. We walked in parks, on the Danube, at the Beer Fest. I lost my virginity with him in a boat on the Sava (not the Tisza, but close). After two years together, sex became an obsession for him – even in the toilet at a festival. I felt humiliated. I thought: is this my future? Honest girls marry for love, they say. My mother did that – but how fair is that to us?
I left him – I cried for several days, worked two shifts to study economics the following year.
The meeting that changed everything: From tears to stability
In my third year, I was struggling to finish my studies when I met him – a friend of the professor, my current husband. Physically? I didn’t like him. He doesn’t know who Banyshkov is, he thinks Debussy is a writer, classical music for him is from Nokia. We met like this: I failed an exam (a requirement for a budget), I cried in front of the faculty. He gave me a handkerchief: “Don’t cry, even if you don’t finish, you’re trying a big job.”
When I went to get my documents, my tuition was paid. Three months later, I met him – he asked about the faculty. He didn’t say it was him, but I knew. We started seeing each other. I told him honestly: I’m not in love, I’m suffering for my ex. He: “I will be patient, I will protect you – you deserve it.” I kissed him right away.
I never fell in love with him romantically. After six months we got married. Over the years, I fell in love with him deeply – respect, trust. Now, after five years of marriage, we have a daughter, Hannah. A happy, carefree child with stable parents – best friends. He is not Brad Pitt, he is 12 years older, has no hair, works 10-12 hours a day. He earned everything honestly (not crime!). There is no passion like in the movies, but there is no hatred, jealousy either. We make each other happy.
“Sponsor”? No – a happy mother who protects dreams
When they see me next to him, they whisper “sponsor”. I see a happy mother and wife in the mirror: there is always electricity, food, funds for Hannah’s dreams at home. I do not regret it. Love from money? No – but stability opens up space for real closeness.
What do you think: is marrying for money a betrayal or a smart choice? Share your stories in the comments – maybe you too have chosen a compromise for happiness!