Looking back at my romantic history, I see a pattern—a clear thread connecting the two men I married. First, there was Ray, a semi-functioning alcoholic. Then, immediately after, there was Mark, an emotionally distant man who has a porn addiction. Both of them struggled with financial stability when I met them, and both of them, in different ways, were unavailable—one drowning his emotions in alcohol, the other escaping into porn and emotional distance.  

The question is: why did I choose them? What was it about these men that drew me in? And more importantly, what does this pattern reveal about me and my own emotional needs at the time?  

The First Husband: Ray – The Chaos of Alcoholism

Ray was an adventurer, a dreamer, and a man who never truly had his life together. His drinking was a constant presence in our relationship. Not always blatant, not always disruptive in an obvious way—but always there, like a weight pulling him down, keeping him from truly stepping into his full potential.  

He was a semi-functioning alcoholic, meaning he could hold down a job and have a place to live, but he was far from thriving. He was emotionally unpredictable, financially unreliable, and yet… I married him. I had children with him.  

Why?

I think part of it was his passion, his wild energy, his sense of adventure. He was different from the traditional, boring men I had met before. He offered excitement and a break from the mundane. He represented freedom, even though that freedom came with instability, emotional unavailability, and dysfunction.  

Another part of it was caretaking. I saw someone broken, and I thought I could help him, fix him, love him enough to heal him. There was a part of me that felt comfortable taking on that role—being the one who provided stability, grounding, and emotional strength for someone else.  

But ultimately, his drinking overshadowed everything, and I realized that no matter how much I loved him, I could not save him from himself.  

The Second Husband: Mark – The Man Who Never Let Me In

After the chaos of Ray, I swung hard in the other direction. I found someone stable, predictable, and drama-free—or so I thought.  

Mark was not an addict in the traditional sense, but his relationship with porn and emotional avoidance functioned in the same way. Instead of alcohol, he numbed himself with porn, routine, and emotional detachment.  

When I met Mark, he wasn’t in a great place financially. He had a job, but he was drowning in consumer debt—about $50,000 worth. He was also incredibly stingy, never paying for dates, always holding onto his money tightly, as if he was afraid of scarcity.  

But beyond the money, he was unavailable in the ways that truly mattered. He never let me in emotionally. He kept walls up, refusing to truly share himself with me. When I eventually discovered his porn use, I realized it was a symptom of something deeper—his inability to engage in real intimacy.  

Again, the question arises: Why did I choose him? 

I think Mark represented safety. After Ray’s instability, Mark felt like solid ground. Even though he had financial struggles, he wasn’t reckless. Even though he was emotionally distant, he wasn’t chaotic.  

Subconsciously, I might have thought, This is a man who won’t hurt me like Ray did. But in the end, he hurt me in a different way—through neglect, avoidance, and a refusal to truly connect.  

Why I Chose These Men: The Core Themes  

Looking at both of my marriages, I see a clear pattern:  

1. I was drawn to men who needed me. 

   – Ray needed stability and someone to pick up the pieces of his chaotic life.  

   – Mark needed emotional support but was too avoidant to ask for it directly.  

2. I wanted to be the strong one.  

   – I took pride in being the one who held things together, who could handle it all.  

   – It made me feel needed, valuable, and secure.  

3. I prioritized stability over emotional connection.  

   – With Ray, I had a passionate, adventurous relationship—but no stability.  

   – With Mark, I had stability—but no real emotional connection.  

4. I accepted the bare minimum in relationships.  

   – I tolerated emotional distance because I thought stability was enough.  

   – I thought if I just loved them enough, they would change, open up, and become the partners I needed them to be.  

Breaking the Cycle

Now, as I prepare to leave Georgia and embark on a new life in Latin America, I see the pattern clearly. I see how I chose emotionally unavailable men because, deep down, I was afraid of true intimacy myself.  

If I chose men who were incapable of deep emotional connection, then I would never have to risk being fully vulnerable myself. I could always blame the relationship’s shortcomings on them rather than confront my own fears.  

But now, I am done with unavailable men. I want more than just stability or just passion—I want both. I want a partner who is financially and emotionally secure, someone who is open, communicative, and capable of true intimacy.  

And the first step in finding that is being that myself.  

I am no longer the woman who settles for emotional crumbs. I am no longer the woman who tries to fix broken men. I am no longer the woman who prioritizes stability over connection.  

I am choosing myself, choosing adventure, choosing love—but only the kind of love that is truly healthy and fulfilling.  

And that is why I’m walking away from my past and stepping boldly into the future.