Dating Support Network

My friend showed me a picture of this guy she went to college with. “He’s going to be at my party on Saturday,” she said. “He’s hot. But he’s a bad boy. And he’s really smooth. Watch out.” I was duly warned. But you can’t really blame me for what happened. His hotness completely overpowered my sense of hearing. Come on, it’s simple physics!

Well, let me tell you, that picture did not lie. The boy looked like he had stepped straight off the cover of Men’s Fitness. He must have sensed my instant submissive state when I entered the party. Our eyes locked and I was helpless. Just look at him for dear God’s sake! Six foot three. Broad shoulders. Chiseled jaw. Ripped abs. Yum.

After the party ended, this perfect man asked me if I wanted to go for another drink with him. My friend’s cautionary words tried to penetrate my brain. “Watch out….watch out….watch out” her voice echoed. No dice. His Adonis beauty was like kryptonite to my Bad Boy resistance. “Okay!” I said enthusiastically. Cut to end of drinks. The walk home. One tasty kiss. What was I doing?

But it didn’t end there. According to the classic Bad Boy playbook, he called me every day that week and took me out again that weekend. Then we went on a daytime running date. Then we slept together. AND he called the next day.  All within a week! “Maybe this time really will be different!” I would think to myself floating down the street. I fantasized about the deliciously jealous looks on my married sisters’ faces when I brought my beautiful man home for Thanksgiving. In my little vision he would eat two full helpings of turkey with all the fixins, pumpkin pie for dessert, and then demonstrate one-handed push-ups with the dog on his back without breaking a sweat. “Not like your chubby hubbies, eh?” I would say with a gloating smirk.

But underneath these victorious dreams was an intense fear. I was not only afraid he was going to leave me, but I found I was more fearful of what it said about me if that happened. I must have been something truly special with this guy’s arm around me, but I must be something really worthless if he leaves. The thought terrorized me every day we were “together.”

Well, it doesn’t take a psychic to predict what happened next. Soon his calls and emails became fewer and further apart. He started to disappear, as the Bad Boy does, into the cityscape where his next conquest awaited him. After it finally ended with a tearful confrontation on my part, I can sum up my emotional state for the following months in one word: OBLITERATED.

I hate to admit it, but this was not the first time this had happened to me. I had a history of latching myself onto dashing men, imbuing them with emotional qualities they simply didn’t possess, and carefully crafting a “relationship” that ended in disaster. But it was this guy that hit me particularly hard. I think it was because I had come face-to-face with the ultimate Bad Boy. He was so skilled at creating the feelings that were associated with a budding relationship, but the entire time I was painfully aware that it wasn’t real.

After this experience, I decided I needed to figure out the roots of my Bad Boy addiction. I needed the equivalent of the Bad Boy Patch to learn how to get the toxins out of my system.

The rehabilitation process I put myself through is too long to describe here (contact us if you’re interested), but the long and short of it is that it worked! The basic lesson is: Stop searching for that someone who you believe will provide you with your special identity. You need to discover and accept your own unique identity in order for the right person to find you.

I truly never believed I would be able to shake my Bad Boy addiction, but after I learned to appreciate myself and stopped trying to control my relationships, it all became very simple. In fact, when I bumped into my last Bad Boy, I did not find him physically attractive at all! Seriously! He turned my stomach! I was so proud of myself when that happened. I was finally free!

Do you have a Bad Boy habit you want to drop? Tell the DSN. You can do it!