way. He was everything that I thought I wanted; liked to party, laugh, great with his kids, worked, great handyman. We eventually moved in together. My behaviors and my feelings were telling me something and so was my heart, but they were ignored because, for some strange reason I needed to prove something, that I could commit and so I did. I did the mommy thing to his two girls, while I struggled to pay attention to my boys, by this time in their teens. We tried living together a few times and both tiI asked myself so many times, how could I have done that? How could I have fooled around on him so many times without feeling guilt, remorse or anything? How could I have pretended that nothing had happened? How could I have lied without feeling guilty? How could he not know different? The answer didn’t come. Yet another relationship (s), and another breakup. Another marriage years later, and it happened again. I had married, again, because it was the right thing to do, yet I knew that time that my emotions weren’t involved with him. I still married and 1 ? year later we split up because I had been unfaithful to him, twice and with the same man.

The answers didn’t come to me all at once. They gradually started when I was tired of starting over. At first I thought I had problems committing to someone, so I would go out with someone that I thought met certain criteria. I would go out with them and only them until I couldn’t anymore. I did that a few times, went out with men for 4 months at a time without fooling around behind their back. I thought I was doing well. I thought I was learning to commit.

I didn’t know what commit meant. A few years later, I met an older man who had it together. He was rich, very attractive and sexy, like hell. I wasn’t able to be me with him, all the time; I would drink and smoke to be me. I learned with him what it may feel like to be loved and to love. My feelings started to wake up, and I didn’t know what to do with them. I wanted more and I wanted it fast. I wanted immediate gratification. Always did. Months later, he decided to ‘take a leave of absence’ and called the relationship off. He had his reasons and I was devastated. I felt pain like I never felt before and I drank and smoked the pain away only for it to resurface the next day. I hadn’t fooled around on him, and to forget about it quickly I substituted his presence with alcohol, drugs and other men. A pattern was surfacing but I didn’t know it yet.

A few months later, another experience came my way. He was everything that I thought I wanted; liked to party, laugh, great with his kids, worked, great handyman. We eventually moved in together. My behaviors and my feelings were telling me something and so was my heart, but they were ignored because, for some strange reason I needed to prove something, that I could commit and so I did. I did the mommy thing to his two girls, while I struggled to pay attention to my boys, by this time in their teens. We tried living together a few times and both ti

ions weren’t involved with him. I still married and 1 ? year later we split up because I had been unfaithful to him, twice and with the same man.

The answers didn’t come to me all at once. They gradually started when I was tired of starting over. At first I thought I had problems committing to someone, so I would go out with someone that I thought met certain criteria. I would go out with them and only them until I couldn’t anymore. I did that a few times, went out with men for 4 months at a time without fooling around behind their back. I thought I was doing well. I thought I was learning to commit.

I didn’t know what commit meant. A few years later, I met an older man who had it together. He was rich, very attractive and sexy, like hell. I wasn’t able to be me with him, all the time; I would drink and smoke to be me. I learned with him what it may feel like to be loved and to love. My feelings started to wake up, and I didn’t know what to do with them. I wanted more and I wanted it fast. I wanted immediate gratification. Always did. Months later, he decided to ‘take a leave of absence’ and called the relationship off. He had his reasons and I was devastated. I felt pain like I never felt before and I drank and smoked the pain away only for it to resurface the next day. I hadn’t fooled around on him, and to forget about it quickly I substituted his presence with alcohol, drugs and other men. A pattern was surfacing but I didn’t know it yet.

A few months later, another experience came my way. He was everything that I thought I wanted; liked to party, laugh, great with his kids, worked, great handyman. We eventually moved in together. My behaviors and my feelings were telling me something and so was my heart, but they were ignored because, for some strange reason I needed to prove something, that I could commit and so I did. I did the mommy thing to his two girls, while I struggled to pay attention to my boys, by this time in their teens. We tried living together a few times and both ti

thout fooling around behind their back. I thought I was doing well. I thought I was learning to commit.

I didn’t know what commit meant. A few years later, I met an older man who had it together. He was rich, very attractive and sexy, like hell. I wasn’t able to be me with him, all the time; I would drink and smoke to be me. I learned with him what it may feel like to be loved and to love. My feelings started to wake up, and I didn’t know what to do with them. I wanted more and I wanted it fast. I wanted immediate gratification. Always did. Months later, he decided to ‘take a leave of absence’ and called the relationship off. He had his reasons and I was devastated. I felt pain like I never felt before and I drank and smoked the pain away only for it to resurface the next day. I hadn’t fooled around on him, and to forget about it quickly I substituted his presence with alcohol, drugs and other men. A pattern was surfacing but I didn’t know it yet.

A few months later, another experience came my way. He was everything that I thought I wanted; liked to party, laugh, great with his kids, worked, great handyman. We eventually moved in together. My behaviors and my feelings were telling me something and so was my heart, but they were ignored because, for some strange reason I needed to prove something, that I could commit and so I did. I did the mommy thing to his two girls, while I struggled to pay attention to my boys, by this time in their teens. We tried living together a few times and both ti

anted immediate gratification. Always did. Months later, he decided to ‘take a leave of absence’ and called the relationship off. He had his reasons and I was devastated. I felt pain like I never felt before and I drank and smoked the pain away only for it to resurface the next day. I hadn’t fooled around on him, and to forget about it quickly I substituted his presence with alcohol, drugs and other men. A pattern was surfacing but I didn’t know it yet.

A few months later, another experience came my way. He was everything that I thought I wanted; liked to party, laugh, great with his kids, worked, great handyman. We eventually moved in together. My behaviors and my feelings were telling me something and so was my heart, but they were ignored because, for some strange reason I needed to prove something, that I could commit and so I did. I did the mommy thing to his two girls, while I struggled to pay attention to my boys, by this time in their teens. We tried living together a few times and both ti

way. He was everything that I thought I wanted; liked to party, laugh, great with his kids, worked, great handyman. We eventually moved in together. My behaviors and my feelings were telling me something and so was my heart, but they were ignored because, for some strange reason I needed to prove something, that I could commit and so I did. I did the mommy thing to his two girls, while I struggled to pay attention to my boys, by this time in their teens. We tried living together a few times and both times were unsuccessful, yet I had been faithful to him and I was attracted to him. So being faithful was no longer the issue, as far as I was concerned. I heard in between our break ups, that I had fears of intimacy and fears of rejection. I didn’t really get it much then. Didn’t really understand why I would have fears of intimacy. I thought it may have been due to my first husband’s death. Although he was physically and verbally abusive he had a kind heart and two months after our wedding, he died of natural causes. I had quickly masked that shock with sex. Didn’t drink much when I was 21 and although I had smoked pot before, I certainly wasn’t using it a lot. I was using sex. I had to think back further to figure out why I had had so many relationships, why was I was unable to stay with one person. I couldn’t remember certain things from my past. I didn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle, this one being over 1000 small pieces.

A little while after our first breakup I went away to a family program for two weeks to help me look at my intimacy issues. It was the second time, I had taking time away from my chaotic life to put a stop to this craziness. I wanted to look at my inner self. Sure, my issues weren’t the same as the group members and I had come along way already, but it did help me to identify that one of the reasons I had unsuccessful relationships was because I was afraid to emotionally connect with someone. I was afraid to connect with someone because I was afraid to be rejected. It’s easy to be rejected from someone you don’t care about and it’s easy to reject someone you don’t care about. All you have to do is pretend it doesn’t bother you, block all feelings and you can do this by quickly starting another relationship or by drinking or by using drugs or by using any other substance or thing that replaces the truth of things.

I eventually found more pieces of the puzzle of my life. At one point, I thought that being unattracted to my second husband would have explained the reaso