April 26, 2015
Before My ACOA-ex and before my BPD-ex, there was a girl named Andrea Rae. Andrea was not the first troubled woman in my life, and sadly she would not be my last. She was, however, the most traumatic experience in my life.
Andrea was a self-proclaimed bitch. She was proud of it. She claims she came from a long line of bitches. She even had books on her shelf that instructed her on how she could be more of a bitch and earn the respect of men. Yes, women like this actually exist.
I met Andrea in a dark and crowded room with music pumping through the speakers. We met in the heat of the moment. It was a passionate moment. Maybe too passionate for a first encounter. Still, I was prepared to let it be a fleeting moment. Then she said, in a dissapointed tone, “Aren’t you going to ask me for my number?”
I remember that night vividly. She was with her girl posse. I offered to drive her and her friend home later that night. I was on a natural high. She brought that out in me. Like my other exes, she loved very public displays of affection. Admittedly, so did I.
As I drove off, her friend spotted the guy she had been making out with all night. Instead of waving to say hi, she ducked into her seat to avoid him. Andrea laughed as if she thought it was amusing that her friend had dissed the guy after making him think she was into him. In hindsight, it was a very telling moment. It said a lot about Andrea and the mean girls she hung out with. Man Haters love to play with their prey.
Andrea was a smart girl as are most of the women I date. She was just graduating with a degree in electrical engineering. But she was a pretty nerd. This nerdy gal was no modest introvert. She would show up to our dates showing ample bosom. That was her secret weapon. Once a taxi cab driver braked just to get an eyeful. Men would chat her up when I wasn’t looking. She loved the attention.
After graduation, she had an offer to take a job with a big financial firm in NYC. But even so, we spent almost every day together. She gave me all her time and all her love. She called me three times a day. And I was always thinking, “What did I do to deserve so much affection?” She would praise me non-stop. She was dropping the love bomb and I couldn’t get enough of it. Little did I know that I would fall from that position just as quickly.
When she wanted to be, she could be the cuddliest girl you’ve ever met. But as the relationship went on, I noticed another side of her personality. As good as she was at lifting me up, she could cut me down to size in a matter of seconds. She could be as cruel as she was sweet, whatever suited her needs at the moment.
After a while, I started noticing the disdainful way she spoke about men. She spoke about them as if they were inferior beings. She was very condescending and judgmental. She (like all my exes) would say things like “all men are pigs”. Andrea Rae wasn’t the first Man Hater to pounce on me, but she was definitely the most hateful. I would learn just how hateful.
My love affair with Andrea was like a slow reveal. The layer of the onion would get more and more bitter as I peeled off the layers. The sweet girl-next-door act was just that… an act to lure unsuspecting men to their doom. Andrea was the ultimate femme fatale- a woman who relished the punishment of men, a woman who enjoyed exerting control over them. To Andrea Rae, love was a power struggle and she was practicing to be a dominatrix.
I knew Andrea, before I knew anything about BPD or ACOA. But even back then, I knew something was not right. She liked to call me “daddy” when we were alone… like a sweet little girl. She was being affectionate, but there was something unsettling about it. I have a history of dating women who do not exhibit age-appropriate behavior and who have daddy issues. Professionals might observe this behavior and suggest sexual-traumatization at a young age had emotionally stunted these women.
My suspicions grew whenever she would make unusually brutal and inappropriate remarks about sex, inluding disturbing remarks about incest and beastiality. Sex was always awkward and unomfortable with Andrea Rae. She liked to play rough and talk dirty. But it never felt right. Something was off. She would chastise me if I didn’t do things exactly the way she wanted. Everything was a control issue. These are the telltale signs that a woman has had a troubled past.
Andrea acted like she was daddy’s little princess, but something tells me all was not well in her family. Her impulse was to run away from intimacy. Andrea longed for the glamour of the big city (having watched a lot of the Sex and the City and reading bundles of Cosmo magazine ), because she hated growing up in a small mining town in Nevada. Her dad was an engineer but she grew up in a town of rednecks. It was the kind of town where bored girls experimented with crack and slept with other women’s husbands. Andrea was no exception to this rule.
The more insecure she felt, the more she developed an alternate persona. She took on an air of superiority that belied her terrible insecurities and past. She was tough on the outside, but unusually fragile on the inside. She was easily offended and would lash out with terrible cruelty. This was a pattern of behavior I’ve noticed in all the women I’ve loved. It is the trademark of an abusive personality… one that abuses loved ones behind closed doors.
Before she left for the Big City, she suggested we have an open relationship. I was ok with this because I saw no point in being exclusive if she was going to be in another city. It was difficult to imagine her with other men, but I started dating another woman to relieve the pain. Andrea Rae did not like this at all. And when she found out that I had sex with the other woman, she flipped her lid. I have never seen her quite as vicious. It was ok if she took strange men to her bed. But it was not ok if I slept with a woman I had been dating for three months.
Months earlier, I took a trip to NY to visit her. She told me she was so excited to see me. But on the day I was suppose to fly out, she expressed reservations about our relationship. And when I got there, she acted distant and emotionally-detached. This is the push-pull behavior I have come to know too well.
I was annoyed that I had flown all the way to see her, just to have her act like she didn’t know me. So I broke up with her. Again she reacted viciously. Andrea Rae did not take rejection well. Foolishly, I took her back. Because I mistook her rage for love. But she did not love me. She just wanted me back long enough to find a replacement. She was stringing me along… she was buying time… time to find a replacement. This is what they all do. Andrea Rae always had to be the one who rejected the man… not the other way around.
When I called her out about her push/pull behavior, she split me black. We had talked about staying friends, but she was not friendly at all. She was quite hostile. And even accused me of harassing her when I made attempts to stay friendly. The woman who use to call me three times a day, was now annoyed if I called her at all. She literally turned on me overnight. I went from the love of her life to public enemy number one. The wall was up and she was intent on running away. She was out to prove that all men are indeed pigs.
Like all femme-fatales, she loves anatagonizing men and then playing the victim. A woman, who is victimized at a young age, re-plays the drama of her youth… over and over again. She plays the victim because that is all she knows. She even went so far as to make vicious threats and outlandish accusations. The Man Hater fights dirty. Attacking you with brutal hostility and then playing the victim is how you know you are dealing with a sadist. She is punishing you for something that happened in her childhood.
Being ambitious and book-smart has allowed Andrea to climb up the corporate ladder with great efficiency. Her control issues make her a suitable candidate for middle management. But like most high-functioning sociopaths, she fails to achieve that success in her private life. She is still on the run, jumping across the pond in hopes things will be different. Yet I will bet good money that she has moved from one broken relationship to another. Blaming each man for its failure. Like all femme-fatales, Andrea Rae sees men as the problem- the source of all her misery.
Andrea Rae isn’t smart enough to figure out that she has a pattern of pushing men away and ruining their lives, especially men who treat her with kindness. Denial allows her to play dumb. She sees kindness as a weakness… for her to exploit and manipulate. Admission of guilt would prevent her from completing her mission- to prove all men are pigs. She would have to admit that she is a narcissist and a sociopath. What had to happen to create such a monster? With each relationship, the answers become more clear.
All my exes insisted they were nothing like the woman I dated before. But that is utter nonsense. They all share the same qualities that fill the pages of this blog. It has become abundantly clear that I am dating the same woman over and over again.
April 14, 2015
I have a sixth sense about people. I seem to see what others can not. Not sure if this is a gift or a curse. Some people think I’m crazy. But the truth, that some do not want to hear, is that I know what I’m talking about. I don’t say this to boast. I say this because time has proven me correct. When I heard that my BPDex had failed another relationship, it was confirmation that everything written here was spot on.
Recently, two more people in my life fell from grace. One was a company that I had worked for… a company run by people who I knew were toxic. But no one else in the company saw this because they were all in denial. They were too busy drinking the Kool Aid. They had fired me because I had a bad habit of pointing out their dysfunctional behavior… abusive behavior that I had recognized as that of people affected by alcoholism and mood disorders.
On my way out, I warned co-workers to watch their back. The smart ones took my advice and jumped ship. The diehard denialist sank with the ship.
The company closed their doors this month and sold the company to a global entity. The owners cashed out and left the rest of their employees to sink. That was their true nature showing in the final moments. So much for the facade of generosity.
The second person to fall was someone who I hardly knew. But I’ve known him since my early days in the Big CIty. He was a small-time celebrity in the underground music scene. He was one of those people who never aged. But I always had a sense there was a sadness behind the glitz and the glamour. Rumor has it he committed suicide. Nobody knows why, but I suspect he was yet another runaway from a small town… a runaway who was running from his past and his problems.
He was like Peter Pan- a boy who never wanted to grow up aka change. His glory days were well behind him and I could see that the glimmer had faded in recent years.
Many of those club kids are now aging hipsters. Hipsters do not age well. Once that fabulous glow of youth has faded, they must confront their demons again. I think it was too much for him. He was too sensitive for his own good… like so many others in the Big City.
March 27, 2015
Emotionally-damaged women love telling you their sob stories. But when you use those sob stories to explain why their behavior is so erratic and irrational, they shut down. They run away and block your phone number. They accuse you of being abusive. They play the victim.
These women live in denial, because denial keeps them warm and fuzzy. Acknowledging the damage that has been done only happens when they want to give you the impression there might be hope. But with each damaged woman I make the mistake of loving, I realize there is little hope… if any.
Something about their condition prevents self-awareness and change. Is it their self-destructive streak? the bubble of denial? Or is it this need to appear perfect in every way. All the women I dated, were obsessed with their appearance. They brushed their teeth until their bristles were warped. They spent hours in front of their mirror, obsessing about their hair and their outfits… looking outward to prevent themselves (and the world) from looking inward.
My ACOA-ex was OCD. I would come home to find that all my shirts had been buttoned up and folded neatly. My sink and bathtub scrubbed so hard that the enamel and chrome was worn off. This was her need to control things. She obsessed about things until she wore it down… like she wore me down. She tried to control me with her mind games and her tantrums. But that was what pushed me away. She is her own worst enemy and she has yet to figure that out.
Like all my exes, she found a quick replacement when it was convenient for her. That was the only way she could soothe her feelings of abandonment and satiate her sexual appetite. The only way she could rid herself of the fear that I might leave her was to leave me. She knew she could not control me or convince me that I was the problem. So she found someone she could control and would take the abuse.
I laugh whenever I see the men who would become my replacements. They almost always have that look of cluelessness on their face. It is almost as if my exes intentionally found someone who was more gullible… someone so dense, they could not possibly know what they were in for. My troubled exes are trying to find someone who will believe the lies and the manipulations. Because that is the only way they can feel in control.
I made them feel out of control. Because I would not play their games. I called them out… one, too many times. I knew too much. They would accuse me of using their sob stories against them as if I were putting them on trial. I burst their bubble of delusions. And that was the only reason they needed to run.
March 10, 2015
Found an article on unresolved trauma. Below are 20 symptoms:
The rest of the article can be found here:
March 7, 2015
Beware of things that come too easily. This is especially true when it comes to love. This is true of all my relationships. They were all too good to be true.
My last ex claimed she knew I was the One, the first time I met her. I knew this was hogwash and a redflag, but I took the bait anyways. I was out for a good time when I met her. No intentions of falling in love. But she asked for my phone number and I was only happy to give it to her. It was too easy, but I didn’t care.
Of course, there were many other redflags. She was hours late to our first date. Being flaky and inconsiderate of other people’s time was her trademark. It never occured to her that this was a redflag. It seems small and insignificant, but in fact it was an early sign of her relationship-sabotaging ways.
This is what they mean by Push-Pull behavior. They are pulling you in and pushing you away at the same time, leaving you confused and frustrated. Within months, there was talk of living together. I was still dating another woman when I first met her. She would later chastise me for this, because I was completely unaware that I was already in a commited relationship. Oh yes, she had plans before I knew there were plans.
To be fair, I walked into it. It’s hard to walk away from that feeling of being loved. Even if you know it’s being artificially inflated for dramatic purposes. I even introduced her to my family. If you ever want to see a troubled woman freak out, introduce her to your family. She will relish it and use it as an opportunity to fall apart. It is, at this moment, that you will see the effect that intimacy has on her. She will become irritable and start fights for no reason. She will look for any reason to fight.
This is because the same intimacy that she demands, is the same intimacy that triggers her fight and flight response. My ACOA-ex was overjoyed to meet my parents, but this is when I started noticing her flip-flopping ways. This reaction was remarkably similar to the way my BPD-ex reacted. Maybe, on some level, this had become my litmus test.
When a love comes this easy there is no foundation. The expectations are built up high like a house of cards on a foldout table. It is why these relationships fall as quickly as they are built up.
My BPDex married her ex months after our relationship crumbled. Three years later, there are no signs of that marriage. This is the speed at which these women operate. So it’s actually good that I’m dating a woman who wants to go slow. Maybe too slow for my liking. But that’s a good thing because I recognize that I am as responsible for those relationships moving quickly as the women who pushed for it.
Admittedly, I miss that feeling of being in love. It may not have been real, but it felt real… at the time. But the fact that it was so easily taken away confirms that it wasn’t real. Real love doesn’t disappear after two years or after you come back from a business trip. Was any of it real? Well, something had to trigger her fight/fight response.
February 17, 2015
Signs of fear of intimacy may include: avoiding physical/sexual contact or having an insatiable sexual appetite, difficulty with commitment, history of unstable relationships, low self-esteem, bouts of anger, isolation, difficulty forming close relationships, difficulty sharing feelings, difficulty showing emotion, and difficulty trusting.
This is the best way I know how to describe all the women I’ve loved. To be fair, I can identify with most of the signs listed in the quote above. But if I’m a 7, the women I dated were 11s.
It is too easy and tempting to write them off as psychos or evil incarnate. Because they are much more complicated than that.
If they were simply evil women, I could have easily walked away. But the women I loved were always keeping me guessing.
At times, they provided ample love and tenderness. There were times when they were nurturing and healthy lovers. They weren’t always cold and heartless. They only showed those signs towards the very end. If anything, they were full of emotion. Too much emotion. Can a woman be too emo to love?
If she feels emotions with too much intensity, she will not be able to handle love. The women I loved, embraced it. They welcomed it with open-arms. But once it was in their arms, they feared losing it. They tried it on and ultimately didn’t feel worthy.
My last ex was always reading my emails and texts hoping to catch me cheating on her. She drew absurd conclusions that had no basis in fact. She did that because love made her a nervous wreck. She was too sensitive for her own good or mine.
There is no way for these women to turn down the emotional dial. Not when it comes to love. This is why only lovers know what family and friends find so hard to believe.
The one I call my ACOA-ex was the most loving of all my exes. But she could also be the most vindictive when she felt like I was not reciprocating her love. But that was her perception, not reality. It was the perception of a woman who never felt deserving of love. Her childhood memories were being triggered by our relationship.
The one I’m currently seeing is not as emo, but she is also not entirely emotionally available. She was kind enough to admit that her capacity to love is limited. It is her surprising honesty that makes her less harmful. Because you never fall in love with someone who is emotionally unavailable and knows it. You take it for what it is. The real harm comes from loving a woman who fools you and herself into believing she is capable of love. But in reality, she is too emo to love.
February 16, 2015
As I get older today, I reflect upon what I’ve learned and what I still need to learn. I’ve said good-bye to a lot of friends in the last few years, which is always a painful process. But it’s gotta be done.
I have fewer friends. But the ones I have are keepers. No more fair-weather friends or self-centered narcissists. No more unnecessary drama. No more dysfunction or passive-aggressive toxicity left over from childhood.
Truth be told, we all had less than perfect childhoods. But I’ve learned that not everyone uses that as an excuse to be a horrible human being. I’ve met some people on this blog whose existence proves that a damaged child can be a decent adult.
It is always sad when you love someone and continue to love someone after the relationship goes to shit. In that instant, their “love” magically evaporates into thin air. You wonder if it was ever genuine. Maybe my standard for love is higher. I require and deserve permanence and consistency. That is how I know my love is real and I expect no less for myself.
I can not trust someone who snaps and pulls a 180 on me every time they feel like its justified. I can not continue to love someone who punishes people because they are feeling insecure and vulnerable. Or punishes me because something dear old dad did to them.
But still there will always be a part of me that loves those women who took their love back so easily. That is why betrayal is so painful to me. Because when their love has already and completely dried up, my love still remains.
February 6, 2015
When I met my ACOA-Ex, I was actually dating someone else. She never lets me forget that. I wasn’t trying to date two girls at one time. I don’t have that much free time. It just happened.
We had only been dating for that summer and then I met my ACOA-Ex. It was a meaningless fling, something to pass the time. And of course, she was crazy as hell. Much much crazier than my ACOA-Ex. So crazy even I had to figure out a polite way of ending the fling. Believe it or not, she was too crazy even for my tastes.
Then my ACOA-Ex came into my life and she seemed… well, relatively normal. So that helped me make up my mind. The transition was not smooth. I had to find some way of gingerly breaking up with a crazy woman. My Ex thinks I’m a player, but that isn’t the case at all.
I was still trying to figure out what I wanted and I was still finding crazy women in my life. If I was non-committal, it was because I was afraid of committing myself to yet another Man-Hater. So I kept things light.
Digging shallow holes, as they say, in hopes of finally finding a healthy relationship.
I had only been dating my Ex for a month. But, like so many of my other exes, she was on the fast track. She actually asked for my phone number when we met, so I was definitely not trying to date multiple women. It just happened.
In retrospect, I should have continued dating. I should not have jumped into a relationship so quickly. People, like me, can’t avoid crazy women. They are everywhere. Maybe it’s because I hang around eccentric circles, creative people who have liberal lifestyles. Or maybe, it’s because I’m a little crazy myself and just attract birds of a feather.
I’m not afraid of being alone. I am, what you call, a friendly introvert. I like going to restaurants, bars and the movies by myself. Or at least, I am comfortable doing that. But I also like being with someone who shares my interests and unique point of view. So when I meet a woman who feels familiar, I date her.
Unfortunately, familiar to me is crazy. And that’s what I don’t need. So maybe I need to start dating women who aren’t familiar. That is why dating is so important. Because it’s practice for the real thing.
Dating crazy women is not the problem. Being in love with a crazy woman is. It’s important for me to date to explore my options. Because my tendency and pattern is to date crazy, I need to date more often. I need to date until I find that one woman who isn’t so crazy. Or maybe just the right amount of crazy.
We all have issues. Myself included. But even I have limits. I like quirky people. I like crazy people who do amazing things, the kind of things only a crazy person can do. What I don’t like is the kind of crazy that translates into women punishing men for the sins of their fathers. That I can do without.
February 5, 2015
I want you to know that despite all the mean and horrible things you said to me, I still love you. There are even times when I miss you. Those fond memories of us still haunt me. Your vindictive rage might have erased your own fond memories, but sadly mine are intact.
There is a side of you who I will always love. There is no one I loved more than you. And that includes my BPD-ex. You were always worried about other women, but it was you who had the special place in my heart. I shared things with you, I have only shared with you. But you betrayed that trust.
I can not separate the woman I love from the woman who said and did all those awful things. You have a darkness inside of you that you have yet to discover. You’re in denial. By now, you know that runs in your family.
I talk about your family, not to insult your family or to degrade you. I do it to trace the origins of your misery. You must come to terms with the fact that your anger towards me is in fact anger towards your childhood. The dysfunction you live with had to come from somewhere. It didn’t come from me.
You have turned on me too many times for me to continue trusting you with my heart. You have betrayed me for the last time. You will not be invited back. I have taken you back too many times to count, often without asking for an apology. Use those sad puppy dog eyes on someone else.
You’ve read my blog. You know the facts. But you choose to ignore them, because you’re afraid to acknowledge your darkside and your dark past. You want to continue playing the victim because that is your nature.
But you are only ruining your life by doing so. Blaming and shaming me for your insecurities is not only wrong, it is misplaced anger. Your insecurities and your rage existed long before you met me. Your friends know that and you know that. It will be there long after I’m gone.
My BPD-ex is proof of all that. Look at her miserable life to know what your life will become if you don’t take a long hard look at yourself. She has lost husband, friends and lovers because she and her family refuse to see that darkside.
I was just a convenient scapegoat for all her misery. I was her punching bag for all that rage she had against her father. You and her are alike in that way. You share a secret hatred for your fathers. But you keep it under wraps because both of you still want your father’s acceptance.
How many more men will you push into the arms of another woman?
You have so much to offer a man. You’re beautiful, smart and funny. I was proud to have you by my side. I loved sharing experiences with you and sharing you with my friends and family. But you ruined all that. You made it so I can never do that again.
You have great strength inside of you and amazing survival skills. All my exes have that in common. Use that side of you to better yourself. Stop blaming every man you fall in love with. Stop playing your passive-aggressive games and, for everyone’s sake, stop projecting your illness onto others.
My family loved you and my friends did too. But you ruined that as well. Because you have this insatiable need to tear people down so you can free yourself from the fear of abandonment and rejection. Ask yourself why you came back into my life, only to announce you’ve moved on.
You’re a complete mess. You play with people’s minds and hearts. Yet you somehow find a way to play the victim every time. You are completely ignorant of how screwed up you are.
You will lose every time if you do not tame that temper of yours. There is NO justification for it. Every man you love will drift away. No man, in his right mind, would trust his heart with a woman who is this emotionally unstable.
Believe me, I know. There were troubled women before you. They all live lives of quiet misery. They may seem fabulous on the outside, but they are all slowly falling apart on the inside. The illusion of well-being is a lie.
Your therapist doesn’t know what I know, because she hasn’t spent the last 2 years with you. You haven’t subjected her to the mind games that you have played with me. No one knows. Not your friends or your family. Because you abused me behind closed doors. And then you conveniently forgot about it.
To this day, you have offered me no apologies for your treatment of me. It is unfortunate. Because I was hoping we could stay friends. I tried. I tried harder than any man should.
But you didn’t. You never tried. It was always me. I was always the one who reached out with the olive branch. I was always the one who swallowed my pride and took you back.
You couldn’t contain the rage that you keep hidden inside of you.
That is part of your disease. Now that I am gone, you will have no one to blame but yourself.
Please continue going to therapy. Hopefully, your therapist will eventually catch on. I am hoping that, one of these days, you will stop playing the victim. I hope that you will start telling people the truth about yourself and stop spreading the lies about me.
I think I told you this once. But I will tell it again- years ago, I got a call from my college sweetheart. She was my first love. She too had similar issues. She too treated me like shit so she could run away with good conscience. But that too was a lie.
She eventually suffered a breakdown, similar to the one you had. However, she was fortunate enough to marry someone who got her the help she needed. Part of her treatment was to call people she had wronged.
I still carry the pain she caused me. But I forgave her because she had the strength and good will to ask for my forgiveness. And that was enough.
It was enough for me to feel like she had acknowledged the pain she had caused me. It was enough for me to hear her own up to the terrible way she had treated me. In my eyes, she became a better person that day. I hope, some day, you will too.
It didn’t matter to me that she married another man. That wasn’t the point. If you think this is an attempt to get you back… well, you can stop flattering yourself. It’s not. Please let go of the petty grievances that keep you angry.
You have bigger issues in hand.
All that ever mattered to me was the TRUTH. That’s what you could never understand. And why I could never give myself fully to you.
All I ever wanted was to set the record straight. My college sweetheart took years to figure that out. I hope you will figure it out as well.
But to do that, you have to take an honest look at yourself. You have to untwist the tales you have told, the tales that you think will soothe your conscience.
Ask yourself why you blocked me out when so many others have caused you misery. If you say it’s because you loved me, then that is proof you fear intimacy. You fear the truth about yourself.
Find a way to overcome that fear. Figure out why you’re so hyper-sensitive. Break your addiction to melodrama. Then maybe you will find some long-lasting happiness. I wish that for you. I really do.
February 4, 2015
To all those who advised me to run the other way, thank you for your concern. It is the exact advice I would give to someone else in my situation.
But as I said to MF, I am a man with needs. No, I don’t mean sex.
Contrary to what my paranoid ACOA-ex believes, I don’t sleep around. That’s not who I am. I don’t have notches on my bedpost. I am not about conquests in the bed or self-satisfaction. I look for shared experiences, mutual enjoyment. I am looking for love. I am an oddball like that.
I am actually very choosey about who I sleep with. Because I have tried having sex with randos and it wasn’t enjoyable. It was awkward and strange. I need intimacy and tenderness. Most of all, I need trust. Cold and mechanical sex doesn’t do it for me because it’s cold and mechanical.
My 2 plus years with my ACOA-ex had its ups and downs, but the sex was always amazing. No trauma or triggers in that department (unlike my BPD-ex). Sometimes, we’d have sex multiple times in one day. We were like teenagers in love, if you can call it love.
The sex was amazing because the rapport was amazing. We enjoyed the same things. We were both sensitive to each other’s needs. We supported each other when it came to our respective careers. We listened to each other’s stories. We hugged each other when the other person needed it, even when we thought we didn’t need it.
Sex was the cherry on top. But the ice cream was the relationship. As dysfunctional as it was, it could be (most of the time) fantastic and nuturing. When she wasn’t being insecure and irrational, she was being attentive to my needs. She was sweet and caring. When I fell asleep on the subway, she lovingly pulled my head onto her shoulders.
She was my constant companion because I could think of no one else I would rather spend my time with. I took her everywhere. Most people would have felt suffocated, but I enjoyed having her by my side.
I know, it’s terribly sappy. But these are the needs I speak of- the need to feel loved. There is nothing sexier than someone who can make you feel that way.
Unfortunately, for me, even the loving ones have issues. I don’t waste my time with emotionally unavailable women (and vice versa), which is why I tell people not to worry about me going in that direction. That’s not me.
The danger to me is women who alternate between being emotionally attentive and running away from intimacy. This is the bane of my existence. Sadly, these are the only women who have made themselves available to me.
So what am I to do? Live in isolation? Zip up the plastic bubble? Join the priesthood? Run from the sight of women? Adopt an Avoidance Personality Disorder? Become jaded and angry like everyone else?
I am only human. I am a man with needs. I am also a man who has been through the ringer more than once. Subsequently, I have learned my lessons.
But I also believe avoidance is not the answer. I do believe a healthy woman is waiting for me out there. I have not found her yet. But I want to believe she is out there somewhere.
So for now, I settle for the company of troubled women. I’m not interested in “saving” them or any other kind of delusional relationship. I’m only interested in being a man enjoying the company of a woman. That’s not me being a womanizer. That’s me being human.
If I bounce from one relationship to another, it’s because these relationships never last. They implode despite my intervention or best efforts. I would be more than happy to have wild sex with one woman for the rest of my life. But I have not found that one woman who has the kind of emotional stability that I need and deserve. So I keep one foot out the door.
I keep one foot out the door, because those loving women, who are so good at making me feel loved, always have one foot out the door. Their love has proven, time and time again, to be fleeting. This situation is not ideal or healthy. But it is my reality.
My ACOA-ex hates me because I always had one foot out the door. But she could not provide me with safe sanctuary. She could not adequately prove her undying love. As long as she continued blocking my number, hanging out with swingers, having dinner with “guy friends”, I would always have one foot out the door. That was the deal. That is always the deal.
That doesn’t make me an abusive womanizer who gets sick pleasure from hurting women. That makes me a wounded warrior, protecting his heart from being stomped on with complete disregard by emotionally troubled women.
These are my rules of engagement, because I am an imperfect man living in an imperfect world. If I did live in a perfect world, my choice would be simple- I would run from crazies into the arms of a loving woman who would love me forever. But that is still a fantasy and I am still chasing a unicorn that may or may not exist.