He said he would call me, he did and I remained interested. I had a real life boyfriend who took me on dates, gave me gifts and proceeded to treat me like a princess.Except for the night he got so drunk in the frat house that he left me waiting in the lobby of my dorm, frantic that he was dead, I thought everything was perfect.I spent a lot of time hiding from boys in junior high and high school. All of my friends tried to give me advice as they had their first kisses and groping sessions with boys they'd learned to attract.
I would fall madly for them, they would lose interest, and I would lie at home crying into my covers.
I'd lament love and listen to depressing radio until some poor guy would pick up a pencil I dropped in English class and become my next unwitting pusher.
He made a beeline for me at a party, and with one look at this Christian Slater look-alike, life as I knew it disappeared.
We spent the entire night talking and kissing on the stairs of the fraternity house.
My gut told me he wasn't trustworthy, but I was attracted to him. The breaking point occurred three months into dating him when I walked in on him having full-blown, forceful sex with another woman at a house party. I can't describe the exact sensation, but I remember it happened the moment that he saw me and didn't stop. It was a moment where I realized that if I didn't stop, things could potentially go from just dating bad guys to a Lifetime movie: burning beds, abuse, financial ruin, or worse. I needed to be clear to sort out the drama of my life.
I had to take a break from dating to see exactly what in the world caused me to make these horrible choices. I was going into a dating detoxification, and I was going to come out clean and sober.
One woman goes three years without a date to kick her bad-boy habit.
When you hear the word "detox" all sorts of things come to mind: spas, juice fasts, colonics, rehab centers.
On the last night of high school, one of the coolest boys in my class—the captain of the wrestling team and a smoking hot jock—came up to me and admitted that he thought I was cute.
I didn't know what to do about what he said next: "Yeah, I always wanted to ask you out, but you were always into all these other really weird guys. He wouldn't have rejected me, so I wasn't really interested. After the Hot Jock boosted my confidence, I went out to my first fraternity party and picked up the hottest football player I could find.
That was how it started: I became a Rejection Junkie.