I’m considering being a paid ‘friend’
I have become acquainted with a man 20 years my senior; I am not young myself. He is lonely and has offered me outings, making clear he wishes they would include physical contact. I don’t feel the same, so I told him that if it were to happen it would be as a favour to him. I also said that I have lots of friends already and am not looking for companionship, but would consider the offer. Basically, I’d be a paid companion and friend. I don’t want to be seen as a gold digger, but I’m on a limited budget and he has plenty to share (plus fewer years to spend it). So why not?
Regular readers will know that for most of my life, I was a Christian clergyman.
During that time, I shared some of the most profound moments in peoples’ lives. I married countless couples and led almost as many funerals. I sat by the bedside of dying folks and held brandnew babies. I counselled kids who’d narrowly averted suicide and danced at baptismal parties.
One might think, therefore, that those moments would translate into a vast web of intimate friendships. Not so. Out of all those shared occasions, only half a dozen or so relationships would mature into close, enduring comradeships. Now, don’t get me wrong. We met many wonderful people who were kind, generous, supportive and wise. They were friendly, often very much so. But “friendly” and “friend” are not the same.
I used to wonder why that was. Oh, I know people find clergy-types spooky, and don’t always know how to relate to them. But there’s something more. You see, in all those pastoral moments, I was paid to be present. I certainly wasn’t there because I was paid; I was there because I cared. I like people. Those times were the main reason I went into ministry. But nonetheless, I was being paid. Wedding couples paid $200. Funeral directors exacted a fee on my behalf. The congregation paid a salary. Everyone, from their point of view, was paying me to be with them.
And it’s damned near impossible, it seems, to really be friends with someone who is paying you. Not totally impossible; there are wonderful people who became true friends to Nancy and me, and have remained so long after we left the church. But if not impossible, it’s certainly very difficult.
Paid relationships are measured by performance, expectations, accountability and often, compliance. Friendships understand none of those terms and are weighed in terms of respect, faithfulness, generosity and even, yes, love.
You cannot be this man’s paid friend. You can be his helpmate, his untrained personal-care worker, even his escort (to use the word in its tawdriest sense). But the language of your letter makes clear that the money is important to you — you wouldn’t consider spending time with him if he weren’t paying the bills. And, after all, he has “fewer years” left than you, so maybe you’ll even reap a residual benefit.
Please don’t sully the word “friend” by attaching it to what you have in mind. Here’s the bottom line. You say you don’t want to be seen as a gold digger. Stop acting like one. Send your questions to star.ethics@yahoo.ca