11.17.08
I Will Never Again “Date My Dad”
My therapist* told me today that he’s pretty confident I would never again “date my dad.” I could have leapt off the red velvet couch and hugged him when he said that. This is something I’ve struggled with my entire dating life, and even the thought, the mere glimmer of a notion that I could break this pattern made me so hopeful — like maybe I can have the life I want.
My longest relationship was 4.5 years, with C.C., who is, in many ways, like my dad. Sure, C.C. actually helped around the house, he wasn’t so wrapped up in his work that he completely ignored me when he got home (not even close), and he was affectionate, but he was an engineer and when I’d bring up problems, he’d either shut down or tell me I should have brought it up earlier rather than stewing over it. I wasn’t stewing over it. I was thinking through how I could talk about it without making him shut down or blame me. Basically, he wasn’t emotionally available to me when things weren’t great.
My next relationship, with D.D., repeated some of those patterns. We were both working through break-ups and thought we were more emotionally evolved than we were. Reality set in, he checked out, and I finally realized that when he said, “But I’m crazy about you” in a pained, longing tone of voice, I should listen to the intention (“I want to be crazy about you, but I’m not anymore”) rather than the words.
And since then, quite frankly, I’ve been spooked. I was there in those relationships, I created those patterns just as much as C.C. and D.D. did. I allowed myself to be treated that way. And part of why I’ve been spooked is that I’m afraid I’ll do it again. And I’m afraid I won’t make it out of the relationship so emotionally healthy this time.
To do that, I have to break my patterns. And that’s the hard part. But it’s also the easy part, because I don’t have to rely on anyone else. That’s what excites me the most right now. That and the fact that my bandmate Liz, who is a doctor, sent me her no-fail get-well-soon cold remedy. Yes, I can!
* Yes, as part of my general desire to finally get my act together, I’m seeing a therapist. It’s helping. You might not be able to tell that it is, but it is.
Kate said,
November 17, 2008 at 8:35 pm
Horray for you, lady! It’s always good to hear an outsider’s perspective on things—and it’s doubly excellent when you get validation that you’re making progress.
thesoniashow said,
November 18, 2008 at 3:11 pm
My first boyfriend was practically a clone of my dad. I look back on that time and I am horrified!
Roodle said,
November 19, 2008 at 6:35 pm
Wow, this sounds familiar in so many ways!
I’ve found counseling really helpful in breaking relationship patterns, too.
My dad sounds similar to yours, and I’ve dated him, too. Most recently, I discovered that a guy I was dating (who’s more socially adept and less self-centered than my dad, but similar in other worrying ways) had the same grad-school advisor as my dad! My dad was one of the professor’s first students, and my date was one of his last, decades later. When the date-guy recognized my last name, he said “Hang on!” and ran to his basement file cabinet to dig up some papers my dad wrote. Eeery!
I seem to be drawn to intellectually confident guys who aren’t necessarily as socially mature and respectful as I want. My concern is that I don’t tend to notice the guys who would be better for me, and sometimes the emotionally open guys who don’t wear their confidence (arrogance?) on their sleeves seem weak or passive to me. I think I’m doing better at all of this, but I know what you mean about getting gun-shy from having made the same mistake more than once.
Kudos for getting your therapist’s vote of confidence!
alix said,
November 21, 2008 at 10:00 am
Nice post! You mention the patterns you have to break, but I wonder if you should go easy on yourself re: your patterns. Consider that the patterns are not patterns, but just what came up for you in reaction to that particular person.
Each partner has the potential to bring out different parts of us. Some of those parts may overlap from partner to partner. I guess I’m saying that just because a relationship didn’t work doesn’t mean you did anything wrong or that you have an unhealthy pattern/habit in relationships. It’s natural for us to analyze our behaviors in ended relationships and wonder if you did this, this and this differently would it have been better? But sometimes I like to get all simplistic about this kind of stuff and think that it’s a chemistry/instinct/human nature kinda thing: Whoops, that person doesn’t work for me. Now I’m gonna try the next dude in line. I’m analytical too, though, so this often doesn’t work for me. But it give me some solace.
I’m thinking about “Go Dog Go” right now. Wow, I bet that makes you give this post like 10x more credit! I’m thinking about the meetings between the 2 dogs throughout the book: “Do you like my hat?” “No, I do not like your hat!” This sort of exchange happens throughout the book until the end when, finally, the dog likes the other dog’s hat. Phew!! And that’s how relationships happen. They just happen. The hats are mutually admired. Boom.
The Power of Creative Destruction « 100 Emails, 20 Dates said,
November 23, 2008 at 12:02 am
[...] that were in the previous relationship (I suspect this is an element of what Alix was getting at in her comment on my “I will never again ‘date my dad’” post). By moving forward, we destroy the patterns of the past. (When we don’t move forward, [...]
Dating My Dad, Or Not « Romance for Roodle? said,
November 23, 2008 at 10:36 am
[...] November 20, 2008 Dating My Dad, Or Not Posted by romance4roodle under History, Philosophy, Etc., Uncategorized | Tags: dad, date, dating, emotion, family, father, history, maturity, relationship | I’m inspired by 100 Emails/20 Dates’s wonderful post, I Will Never Again “Date My Dad”! [...]
Larz Blackman said,
May 22, 2009 at 10:16 am
You skipped A.A. and B.B.