The Case of the Married Man

In December, I will enter into my third year of being single. Still an odd feeling for someone who has spent most of their early adult life in relationships. In the last (almost) two years of being “alone”, I’ve dated quite a bit. New York City, the quintessential melting pot. We have the finance guy who spends his mornings at Equinox and his weekends on the golf course. The tech or fintech guy; A transplant from San Francisco obviously. To be found running along the Westside Highway or playing a game of pickleball. And let’s not forget the creative. Most likely tattooed, spends his Saturdays shopping at Supreme, and commutes from his Brooklyn apartment via motorcycle.

Now, this isn’t everyone of course. Just a few of the main players I’ve come across in the empire state. As much as I’d like to get into the trials and tribulations of dating someone who considers golf a sport, this blog isn’t about them. This blog is about the married man.

They’re non-threatening. You can shoot the shit with them, there’s no overthinking your every word when it comes to chit-chat. You can be…yourself? How refreshing for someone like me who overanalyzes most interpersonal interactions. My first experience with a married man was with a former boss of mine. What started off as a nice friendship quickly escalated into a deep connection. We’d spend hours texting, talking, and believe it or not he helped me through one of the most difficult times of my life. He was my sounding ear, a gentle companion who saw only the best in me and validated me along the way. Now, during this time he was not the only one in a committed relationship. I also had a partner. Now ex, but at the time, I was well into the 2nd year of a relationship. I’ll spare you the need to judge me, as I already have myself…about ten times over. Eventually, things with this married man came to an end. During our brief, but intense entanglement, he unfortunately was not unique in his constant complaints about his wife and how desperately he wanted to leave her. You know the deal. And each time he mentioned this to me, almost instinctually i’d recoil from it as if a hot flame. Because you see my dears, I had no interest in ever being with him. And trust me, that wasn’t because I was in a relationship.

I’d like to fast forward. Present day, I’ve had relations with multiple married men while being single. Majority of which have been without anything physical happening. Yet, very emotionally charged. And like clockwork, upon divulging their desire to flee, my interest plummeted. After all I like you as unavailable. I like you wanting me, yet not being able to have me. I like that you’re risking your entire life because of me. For me. I get off on that feeling of control. That I have the power, at any given moment, to fuck up your entire life. On the same side of this coin is my deep need and want to feel desired. And what’s more desirable than the attention from a man who is already taken? I can understand if you might be thinking, “This girl is so insecure she can only find validation in exploiting the weaknesses of unavailable men.” But I assure you, I am not the only woman who has and will ever do this. Which may account for some of the reasoning of why I’m writing this.

I urge you to look past all judgement as I’ve had to do the same for myself. I’ve had to and continue to deeply examine why it is I’m so utterly attracted to the unavailable.

The conclusions I’ve come to are still quite scrambled, but nevertheless enlightening. I have realized that I unconsciously carry a lot of anger towards men. I lack faith in the concept of if there are any “good ones” out there. Any, who aren’t willing to cheat on their partners. Or to severely fail them. So I exploit it. I do what I can to not be the losing party. And with this, I further fuel my thoughts that eventually everyone gets deceived. I lack faith in men. And I’m desperately afraid to get hurt. So I place myself in a position that keeps me in control. Where I’m the shiny, taboo thrill. Keeping myself at a constant distance with my feelings locked in a hidden chest. Yet ultimately, keeping myself closed off from experiencing love.

In my most recent engagement, I felt the all too familiar feelings set in. The thrill of seeing the message pop up on my iPhone, the intenseness of the secrecy, and the rush of power. That which lasts for about 30 seconds before the guilt sets in. The guilt of knowing that this man has a wife and children. And the shame that is associated not just for the collateral damage, but knowing that this is not in line with the woman I want to be. A woman who is compassionate, intelligent, caring with so much love to give.

I say what I say above as a reflection of my truth. I do not have the illusion that I am anywhere near perfect nor is what I say to be taken as gospel. It is simply my experience. Which after all, is the only perspective I can truly share. As I always say, take what you like and leave the rest. This reflection has been a long time coming. I’ve hesitated before to share this because of my own shame and judgement. At the end of the day I believe we are all doing the best we can with the tools we have.

It is never too late to be open to learning about oneself and adding to your toolbox.

With love,

L