Adventures In Relationships
But first, you need the backstory. Let’s start with my childhood. My dad wasn’t abusive in the way you might imagine, but he crossed lines that no father should. He was sexually inappropriate when I was around nine and again at fourteen. It didn’t happen often, and when I finally told him “no,” he stopped. I figured that was the end of it—no need to tell anyone. But looking back now, I see how those experiences shaped me in ways I didn’t even realize at the time. My dad was mostly absent, traveling for work, so he wasn’t much of an influence in my life beyond those moments. My brother, who’s fifteen years older than me, wasn’t really a part of my childhood either. We didn’t connect, and when he tried to act like a father figure when I was sixteen, it just didn’t land.
By the time I was thirteen, I’d lost my virginity to a sixteen-year-old boy I spent a summer hanging out with. That’s when I discovered something about myself: I liked sex—not necessarily for the physical pleasure it gave me but for the control it gave me over men. I didn’t look thirteen; people thought I was seventeen or older. Men—boys, really—wanted me, and I learned how to use that to my advantage. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even connection. It was power. Cold? Maybe. But they were using me as much as I was using them.
Fast forward to adulthood in the ‘80s—a whirlwind of men, attention, and relationships that came and went. I got engaged at twenty-two, but it didn’t last. Then, in 1992, I met the man I would eventually marry. I was twenty-seven; he was stable, kind, and taught me about healthy communication.
For a while, life was good. But I was restless. I craved attention and excitement. I wasn’t faithful, and I justified it by telling myself I needed more than he could give. Then I met Steve. He was married, too, but none of that mattered. He flipped my world upside down. I became so consumed by him that I didn’t recognize myself anymore. My husband, meanwhile, was finding distractions of his own with younger women.
By 2019, I was done. I couldn’t pretend anymore. I felt trapped, alone, and desperate for freedom. When I told my husband I wanted out in 2020, he admitted he felt the same. We’d been drifting apart for years—it was just time. I moved to be closer to Steve, hoping for something more, but instead, I spiraled. I became insecure, needy, and clingy—all the things I’d worked so hard not to be. After years of “on again, off again,” I finally walked away for good.
The next chapter was a mess of online dating—time-wasters, ghosters, and guys who either didn’t interest me or didn’t reciprocate my interest. I thought I’d hit the jackpot when I met someone who seemed solid. He even invited me on an all-expenses-paid trip to Costa Rica. But two months before we were supposed to leave—on the eve of my 60th birthday—he ghosted me. It was a punch to the gut, but it was also a wake-up call.
**The Lessons I’ve Learned (and Maybe You Need to Hear)**
Looking back, I can see how much my father’s actions influenced my relationships. Even though I forgave him, those experiences left scars that shaped how I saw myself—and what I thought I deserved. I spent years chasing a feeling, a sense of worth and validation I didn’t think I had on my own. Here’s what I know now: It was never about the men. It was about the feeling. I’ve also learned that before I can truly love someone else, I need to love myself—completely, unconditionally, flaws and all. That’s the real work. And it’s not just about love; it’s about attracting the right kind of people into your life.
If you’re disappointed in the relationships you’ve been attracting, take a hard look at how you treat yourself. Do you believe you deserve better? Are you carrying wounds from the past that need healing?
Here’s something that’s helped me: Write it down. Make a list of what you want in a partner—what you’ll accept and what you won’t. Get clear on the kind of life you want to build with someone. I can’t promise you this will magically manifest your dream partner, but it will save you from kissing a lot of frogs. Most importantly, it will remind you of your worth. And that’s where the magic really starts.
