October 21, 2008
He Was My Dylan McKay
A long time ago in faraway land, as far away from reality as one can get, I fell in love with the wrong man. The time and place of our first meeting are irrelevant because looking back on that moment I realize it could have happened at any point in my life.
I was feeling especially vulnerable when he caught my attention. My life had been turned upside down, full of chaos. Things weren’t going my way. I remember feeling as though I wasn’t loved. That I didn’t deserve to be loved. My reaction to these feelings was to build walls around my emotions and let no one tear them down. I was certain that my heart could be stone and that I would feel nothing, not happiness nor sadness — for if I let one feeling escape the castle I had built, the others would follow.
And then I met him. Our conversations were friendly at first. We talked about our lives and where we lived and worked. We spoke of our families and our favorite things. Our relationship was flirtatious and silly and I loved the attention he gave to me. His kind and loving words were like millions of tiny chisels chipping away the rock over my heart.
I felt worthy. I felt loved. I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. After weeks of getting to know one another, I went on a five-day vacation without telling him. When I returned he missed me. He said he was so happy to see me and asked me never to leave without telling him. That was the first time I let my guard down. That was the first time I let him in.
Things that seem too good to be true, often are, and gradually our relationship fell apart. His attention waned. He lost interest in me and met someone else. He gave all his attention to her. It was a flash of light, as quickly as we met, our relationship was over.
Words were exchanged. Hurtful words. I lost control of my feelings. I was confused because I never really knew what I did to drive him away. Those old insecurities came flooding back. I was drowning in my emotions. I no longer felt loved. I no longer felt beautiful.
I couldn’t let go of what happened. I confronted him and somehow he convinced me it was my fault, that I was somehow delusional about our relationship, that I misunderstood what was really going on between us. He made me think I was feeling things that weren’t really there. He didn’t love me.
I remember feeling so stupid for ever loving him, that I tried to tell myself this never really happened. In a rage I took back all the things I said to him. I told him I didn’t really love him. Instead of admitting how hurt I was, I told him I was just using him. It was an attempt to gain control over the situation and it backfired. He told me he never wanted to speak to me again. I couldn’t deal with it. I shut myself off from everyone around me.
I started seeing a therapist. I wanted so badly to make sense of what had happened. I felt depressed. I didn’t want to eat. I tried to starve myself, thinking that if I were thinner or prettier he would want me again.
Never in my life had I let a man have any power over me. Why was he any different? What was it about him that made me lose control? I couldn’t figure it out.
Dr. G asked me to talk about it, to sort through all the anger and sadness. I didn’t know if I could do it.
“Who are you?” he asked. “Who are you? What do you believe to be true about yourself?”
It was a question I didn’t think I could answer. Who am I?
I’m a woman who loves to be loved. I want everyone to like me, to see how special I am, to appreciate me for who I am. I’m a woman who likes to laugh and smile. I’m a woman who needs more love and affection than most people. I’m a woman who hates to be rejected. I’m a woman who is afraid of abandonment.
I thought my reasons for seeing a therapist were to get over the one who hurt me, but as I poured my heart out I realized my feelings had nothing to do with a man loving me and everything to do with me loving myself.
After several long months of getting to know who I was and just being myself, I discovered how great I am. I learned to be good to myself and to respect who I am. Gradually, I got over the heartbreak and pain, and I realized the man I thought I loved was simply a lesson to be learned.
We wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Thinking back on the times we shared together, I realize now he wasn’t as happy as he wanted everyone to believe. His relationships were complicated. He depended too much on others to make him happy, to validate who he was. He was always brooding, and somewhat withdrawn. He had his own abandonment issues because of his parents’ divorce.
In many ways he reminded me of Dylan McKay, the bad boy character from 90s television show Beverly Hills, 90210. He even had the great hair to match. Like Dylan, he was a loner. While he had friends, he never let them into his life. He never let them see who he really was.
I can’t say that he was all bad. He could be kind and sensitive like no other. He could make a woman feel like the most important person in his world. He could make you see the same old things in a new light. He was full of passion, but with that passion was intense heartbreak. No one could break a heart the way he did. Everything he says and does, everything he feels is full of intense emotion.
I never thought I could write about that time in my life before now. I think in so many ways I was embarrassed. I felt foolish for giving my heart to someone who so easily walked all over it. I realize now that everything happens for reasons we may not know until years later. He was a lesson to be learned. He was my Dylan McKay.
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October 26th, 2008 at 9:57 AM, Ashley Says:
I feel honored to be the first person to comment on this beautiful post. So true, how some men float in and hopefully out of our lives, but not before setting off bombs and creating hysteria. Glad to know you’ve move on
Ashleys last blog post..Dysfunction Junction.
October 26th, 2008 at 3:52 PM, kelly Says:
I have to tell you, your Dylan McKay title made your post the first ever BlogHer artcile I’ve clicked on–you got me!
I think more than one woman out there can relate to this all to familiar story.
Then we grow up and realize we deserve the moon!
kellys last blog post..Our Pumpkin: Phase One