“You may feel like something is missing,”
says my therapist in regards to my budding relationship with Mr. Man, who is – by far – the most caring, considerate and empathetic man I’ve ever been with, “This is probably because, in the past, you’ve only been with emotionally unavailable men.”
I hadn’t told her of my bad boy complex yet.
She figured that out based on some other issues I’m facing, like the loss of my father (unintentional abandonment) and my grieving mother (emotional abandonment). There are more details which, clearly, I’ll be keeping to myself.
“You may even be bored with him,” she went on.
At this point my head is shaking in agreement, stunned at her ability to read me like a book.
“I’m not all giddy, crazy, head in the clouds in love with him like I normally am with men. Instead we’re just slowly developing this deep friendship and I feel very calm.”
“That’s okay. It’s normal and very adult. You just need to re-learn some things, re-learn how you see things and feel things, that’s all. We can fix this kiddo!”
And by this she means my emotional unavailability, my inability to really trust in relationships or others.
A few days earlier, Mr. Man and I were stretched out in my mother’s hot tub.
“I want to see a shooting star,” I say, “I haven’t seen one in years.” I relax my neck over the edge of the tub and focus on the galaxy of stars above us, so bright because we are deep in the dark forest surrounding my mother’s house.
Mr. Man starts singing softly. I’m straining to hear the words to the song but I can’t. The hot tub jets are humming in my ears. I take my eyes off of the stars and stare at him. He grows more beautiful every time we are together. The harder I fall for him – for his spirit, his strength and his ability to see the positive in everything – the more attractive he becomes.
“Oh! I just saw one! It was a quick one, but I saw one,” he shouts.
“Damn it!” I splash the water.
“No wonder you never see any,” he laughs, “You never take the time to look.”
All of us, as single moms, single women or recovering bad boy addicts need to take the time to look for the good ones.
Something had felt like it was missing with Mr. Man, but now – nearly two months in – the missing gaps are filling up with something solid, something I’m starting to believe in. I should add, nothing felt wrong at the beginning either. So if something feels very wrong about a man – get the hell away – but if something is “missing” ask yourself what it is?
For me it was the fact that he picked up the phone every single time I called. He didn’t blow me off or cancel plans. And he gave me genuine compliments and spoke of the future, often (and still does). The men in my past have always been emotionally unavailable or physically unavailable – giving me the cold shoulder, playing phone tag or leading me on only to drop me without a thought or care months or years later.
So what was I missing in Mr. Man? The bad boy.
“Fear,” says my therapist, “actually triggers arousal in our bodies. So when the men are mean to their women they immediately want to fix it, their bodies want to make it right.”
Yep, you heard that right.
Bad boys actually turn women on.
Hey, knowing what we’re up against is half the battle, right? I feel like I’ve had this massive, life changing epiphany, one I know I’ve been working toward on my own – I just feel so much better knowing there is a way to correct my mind and heart, corrupt from too many bad boys in the past.
As I find out more and go through my bad boy recovery, I’ll be reporting here.
So stay tuned…
- If you can’t get enough Mr. Man stories, click here for more.
- and read more about what I call my Bad Boy Complex, here.
All is very, very well with Mr. Man. You would love him. Seriously. Every single one of my friends absolutely adores him, so I know all of you would too! He’s definitely a keeper. Big question now is – can I keep the keeper without sabotaging the relationship first?
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