Dating Mr.Big the Avoidant.

Emotionally stunted.


When we keep feelings inside and hide our emotions, are we doing ourselves any good?

Or are we just causing more harm to ourselves, and those we love..are we emotionally stunting ourselves?


When partners don’t use words, and communicate with actions, Is there context lost? Are we missing out on the little, possibly significant words in between? And do those words always matter in a relationship? What if sometimes we can be enough without words and just be present with the right actions?


In my situation with Big, Maybe I’ve been putting too much importance on words, when he’s been trying to tell me in his own way, the only way he can communicate it.


Dee had me realize that while I was evolved emotionally and very mature in that department, big was not. He was emotionally stunted. She said if I could read big’s mind, I’d hear so many lovely things about myself. It made me tear up thinking of what i wanted to hear, reality or not. The real reality of my situation was hitting me harder in the face then ever before.

I felt like I was so close to getting him to open up, and having a heavy conversation was risking throwing they away.


Big felt like Christmas morning everytime I seen him. It was a magic that never died between us. A Magic that I could barely hold back sometimes when we were making love. Recently, I’d feel the words in the back of my throat, creeping up slowly. Then I would swallow them down and dig my face into his chest like they didn’t almost spill out all over us and drown him.



So if a man is emotionally do we bring them to our level or closer? Was that even possible? Or did we have to dumb our emotional maturity down to that of a teenager until we slowly crack their shell?

If that was the case, big was the hardest egg to crack..but he was my egg and i loved him.



Enough is enough


After two dates and hours wrapped up with the new Scottish guy I’d met, I had started to wonder…why couldn’t big be this affectionate and open with me? This guy was very sensual and genuine. Laying with him felt normal and good. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it more than I should have.


When it was all happening I started to wonder again, why was big not doing these things after 9 months? Why wasn’t I asking him to? What was I so afraid of, when what I should’ve been afraid of was missing out on someone caring for me the way I deserve.


I realized that my love for big was blinding me. I was wasting the one thing I couldn’t get back, time. I was letting him give me less than the bare minimum with no consequences. I had been proving this when what I really thought I was doing was gaining his trust and showing him I was loyal. I felt stupid to say the least. Why was I selling myself short when there was clearly men out there that would shower me with affection, and not just men that were clingy or men I didn’t like…maybe there was a percentile between big and crazy , maybe those men existed.


It broke my heart to think that we weren’t meant to be together. He had been a lover and a best friend to me for four years. I loved him in a sick crazy way I never loved someone before. I always dreamed of us one day having a healthy relationship and living together, that dream was slipping away more and more each day. I knew I had to say something soon, I just didn’t know how to set boundaries with big. It had been so long since I was anything but submissive to his behavior, that I was worried it would all just fall apart.


When you believe you’re meant to be with someone, should you stay if they sell you short and wait for change? Or risk it all and run wild until you find someone who runs just as wild as you. With time as the biggest enemy, it’s hard to judge just how much time you should give someone. How do we know when enough is enough?


Out of gas


When we are in the vicious cycle of giving too much without getting anything in return, are we bound to eventually run out of gas? Or can we simply continue and run on fumes until our engine decides its time to stop. Big had finally run me out of gas, and there i was again, running on fumes, giving him everything he needed , but somehow happy when I left. The gifts didn’t matter, and neither did the sex to me. It was laying on his chest that filled my tank. The feeling of his head resting on mine , the familiar rhythmic heart beat in my heart was always full when I was just ran dry too quickly after.


I knew tomorrow bigs behavior would return to one word messages , cryptic answers and cold responses. I would replay the night before to remind myself he cared, but I knew it was a cycle I had to break, it was toxic to say the least , and for the meantime I was trapped, trapped and out of gas.


When we trap ourselves in toxic circles of giving without receiving, are we the only ones who can get ourselves out? And can we make it out possibly a better version of ourselves for doing it?



Back to reality.



One breakup text from the Scott and one night later, I felt like I was right back to my old self, loving big unconditionally and broken. I desperately knew I needed to say something to him soon, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything knowing I might say the wrong thing and end it all.

My frontal lobe felt as broken as I was. I couldn’t make any decisions in the mind state I was in, yet I couldn’t get out of it either.


I didn’t know how I would word anything when i did say something, I kept writing and deleting . It was a never ending cycle of me trying to gently place certain feelings onto the screen, but then they’d all spill out and the page was a stark reminder of everything that was too much for him. I felt hopeless and trapped in my own mind, and I didn’t quite know how to pull myself out of this one.




The Nook


I had once again found myself in my happy place. That little spot under his arm where I can hear every beat of his heart. I was almost sure at that point that the entire week of heartache I had made for myself was just that.. made up. Because there I was again, laying in his bed, wrapped up even closer to him then the last time and the time before.


One week and two amazing nights with big later, I found myself full of dopamine and

Not wanting to sleep. I loved the smell of him on my skin, I felt going to sleep was pushing the memory into the past, I hated that feeling of yesterday. How is it that some people get lucky enough to hold the person they love every night, and others, no matter how deserving, have to hold onto every second we can get? Why are some relationships blessed with an easy route? And how does one get on that road? Are we simply an easy route person or a hard route person?


I knew I was on the hard route, but in these moments it never mattered to me. Everytime we made love I felt the word vomit get stronger and stronger. The words were there between us , just silently said in so many ways. I laid in the nook, wishing I’d never leave.


It was the next day after many hours of needed sleep. A new guy wanted a coffee date and I was less than enthusiastic about meeting another man with a hidden agenda or hidden baggage. This one seemed normal and sweet, but they always do at first. It had me remembering something I saw once that said ” that first two week version of someone is amazing.” I felt it was so correct and every woman out there could relate. What men pretend to be can be so blissfully addictive. But what happens when that fresh out of the box smell is gone? When we finally see that all that glitters isn’t really gold. It’s a emotionally unstable person with questionable intentions.


A New World.


The fresh out of the box smell I was waiting to fade.. never did. A week later, Johnny was making me the most romantic candle lit dinner with amazing food while telling me how deeply he was falling for me. This was it, the moment and the man I needed. I’ve never felt anything so strong, and so quickly. We meshed so well, like it was meant to be and so easy. The security of my new found love was giving me the courage I needed to stand up to big and finally get my mind clear.


By the time i was on the way to the dinner , I had enough. Big was in a mood and doubting how tightly I was wrapped around his finger, that was the last straw, I wasn’t afraid anymore..I was fed up. After everything I had been thru for and with this man and he had the audacity to question my feelings. I barked back with telling him it was untrue statement and asking him if he wanted to really know how bad he had me. Then there they were, justlikethat…the three words I spent months keeping inside and hiding. Staring me in the face was a harsh reality, I knew those words would never come back to me. With no real response after reading them , I poured my thoughts out in a long message once I knew he was asleep and knew I would never get the reply I wanted.


One day and one hypothesis correctly labeled later, I was laying in my boyfriends bed, In his arms feeling safe. Big crossed my mind less and less the more time I spent with Johnny. He was the if he wanted to he would guy, the guy I thought deep down didn’t exist for me. What I had with him was beautiful, simple, and wonderful. After big replied to my feelings with his thoughts of it being rushed, I knew the dream I had been selling myself for years was over. He would never be ready or deserving of my love.

So there sat my reality, but I wasn’t sad like i always expected to be, because what I ended up finding intead was so far beyond that dream I once had.


The new world I was embarking on had no room for the past. When we move on in our lives to a new chapter, a new man, a new job, how much baggage are we allowed to bring in? What’s our emotional weight limit? Is it possible to bring harmless pieces of our old world, into our new one? Or is all baggage to be checked at the door?




Forked Path



It was the moment I had waited for forever. Big was ready to make me apart of his life, with his friends and his kids. I sat there on his couch with him feeling so surreal. I had finally gotten what I always thought i wanted but it was so wrong. The world I was building with Johnny was so deep and so real an everything I’ve always why was I sitting on bigs couch under his arm playing pretend girlfriend? I had completely fucked myself over without even realizing it. All I wanted to do was find out big did care. I just wanted to know so I could move on because I knew he could never love me like I deserved…like Johnny did. Somewhere in the middle of finding out, big had pulled me down into his black hole. I hated myself for it, it kept turning my stomach and making me feel ill everytime I thought about tomorrow. Leaving my boyfriend home sick so I can go party with big? What was I doing? This wasn’t me , not the real me.


I began to realize laying there that night that big was not only a toxic person, but he turned me into one with him. My heart was beating so fast that I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. I couldn’t cancel on big , and I couldn’t get out. I had played with fire and was now dealing with the repercussions that followed. We should Be careful what we wish for. Because sometimes, what wish for isn’t really as sparkly as it looked behind the glass.



After canceling with big that night. Things moved on, but unfortunately I didn’t. Big would find an excuse to see me now multiple times a day, he blew up my phone if I didn’t answer him, and for once he acted like he cared. Big had become like a drug , addictive, toxic and extremely damaging. I had to find a way to crawl my way out of the well I apparently threw myself down. I was drowning though and losing the last bit of strength I had left. I knew what I had to do, I just never realized it would be at this point , in this situation.


I was finally seeing a new layer of him, one I feel I waited forever to get to see. How could I leave him now with no reason that he would understand. I believe if I did that, I would break big forever. I feel like it would take another decade at least for him to trust another woman. I feel validity from the trust he feels in me, I feel satisfaction knowing I’m his safe place to lay his head. It’s all come too late.




More and more big began to act like he should have all along. Meanwhile I kept pulling myself away. He was finally ready for a future with me but my future couldn’t be farther from his conclusions. I kept reminding myself of every night I cried, every promise he made then broke, everything he never gave me and never would.


I always dreamed of Johnny before I met him. He was everything I ever wanted and so much more. He was the definition of a soul mate, we clicked like I never had with a man. How could I still be tethered to big? Why couldn’t I leave the past behind when all that was there was the bare minimum and tears? I knew I was traumabonded to big and I knew deep down, the longer I dragged this out the more it would hurt. My mind must have believed at one point that there was a way out that it wouldn’t hurt, why else would I be where I am now?


I hated myself for seeing him, every time. What use to feel like Christmas morning now felt like going to the principals office. The knot in my stomach deepened with each visit. The part of me that was tethered to him took over every time I was there. His eyes, the way he looked at me, would all bring me back to the person I was not so long ago. Tonight I seen something in big that I hadn’t before. I knew he was plagued with insecurities that he hid like they were the plague, but tonight I looked in his eyes and seen it. It was like A man who was scared to lose the brightest star he had ever seen. The doubt of us going nowhere brought something out in him I had never seen. It wasn’t just the passion , it was the lack of walls that seemed to lay between us naked on that couch. The only walls I felt tonight were the ones I constructed so meticulously and so cautiously around myself. I had become the one who was hiding their life, the one who was hiding their feelings. I had become the book that big couldn’t read.


My body still hadn’t got the memo that my brain was screaming. I felt big was an addiction. An addiction so strong that no matter how content and happy I was, I still couldn’t quit him. Walls up and minimal contact was the best I knew i could do at the moment. I never needed therapy more than I did now.



Dazed and confused


We were that fucked up of a story. Tonight big made love to me, more so than he ever had before. With every ounce of him. He smiled at me with a look in his eye that I couldn’t help but smile back at. The look said it all. It said..” I love you but I don’t know how”. I completely lost myself in him after that moment, I let my heart take over and let us just organically be what we could in that moment. We laughed, we talked, it reminded me of years past where he would drive to my work just to bring me a drink and talk to me. All he ever wanted was just to see me.


Sometimes I forget those days, the days that we weren’t so close but both longed to be. We had come so damn far, no wonder I couldn’t throw it away I thought to myself. Wether it’s right or not, I want to know what a world with him would be.i owe it to the girl who grew up the last four years, she can’t be left with what ifs. Now he’s giving me sweaters and planning sleepovers. If only he could love me the way I wanted back then, now it’s too late and I see he never could. I needed just a little more time. Time to feel what I need to before I break .






Leaving my better judgment behind , along with my sanity, I found myself there again. I couldn’t not go after what I just sent him, I knew the routine all too well. I also knew that it was the times when big was most vulnerable emotionally. Since we started dating we hadn’t done this. I wanted to see just how much he would open up to me this time.


Greeting me with the excitement and smiles I knew he would, I soon found myself making love to his soft side. The side that kept me hanging on all these years. The side I romanticized about for what felt like ages. God, I loved that side of him so much and at times thought I’d never see it again. He chose his words carefully as he smiled over top me. “Taking back and reclaiming what’s all mine ” was something I was use to hearing. What followed stung my ears like a school bell, “always has been.” . There it was, the truth we both knew but he would never admit. In his own Mr big way that was him saying “its always been you,me, us, over every body.”.


When he found out who it was tonight I could tell he was nervous. I assured him and was met with responses that made me feel good. Not because they were nice things…but because it showed his insecurities, And because they meant he worried about losing me , and maybe , that scared him more than he thought it would. I believe he wanted me there right after so he’d know I wasn’t spending the night there. Big was so clueless, but that part wasn’t my concern. My thoughts spiraled to tomorrow night. The sleepover we were always supposed to have, done right. A year too late,

But I again,

I was too addicted to stop.



The Tide


The night I waited a year for, finally came and it was everything I wanted back then. He was being everything I wanted him to be, I started to feel like part of his life. His small gestures of footrubs and breakfast shocked me everytime. I felt myself longing to be there more, and he encouraged it now, he encouraged us.


I was getting to know a side of big I had always wanted to know. I was actively apart of his everyday life, hanging out with his friends , eating dinner with his kids. I somehow started to feel like I fit in his life.


Late night messages when I left that he couldn’t sleep after we were asleep together, made it clear that sleeping next to me was something he was getting use to and really loved. Even if he couldn’t use his big boy words to say it.


I loved his dysfunctional ways, as much as they had hurt me in the past. I almost started to believe I knew him better than I ever thought I did. When I’d read between the lines last year , and wondered if I was wrong. I was always right. He was slowly proving that to me.


When I think back to the way we use to have sex, its so different now. Over the last six months it progressed from hot intense passionate sex, to intimate, romantic, love making. The way he would smile and look at me, the little things he would say. The way he kissed my ankle and feet like I was an Egyptian goddess. Big always made me feel like one. His compliments always set the bar and throughout the four years, not one of them ever left my little broken brain. That man had a way of making me feel so amazing about myself, I always cherished that.


After tonight I knew my heart had anchored in two ports. I couldn’t move from either without breaking one of them with myself. So I decided to sit, wait, and let the tide roll in.







I spent the first week of bigs vacation, being squeezed in for a couple hours every day. It was a lot for us, a lot for him, but so little for me. It had me thinking about all the time Johnny had given me since I’ve known him. Even tho he wasn’t as busy as big was, he always found a way to make me apart of his life and include me in everything he could. Something as simple as an oil change , Johnny would have brought me. A shopping trip to sj with his daughter, Johnny would have brought me. And if he had siblings visiting from another province, Johnny would have me meet them. I was surrounded by what was genuine but I still ran back to my fictional relationship with big. Not only were we fictional, we were dysfunctional. We weren’t conventional in any sense and never were.


As the week grew on, so did my fear that Big wouldn’t ask me to meet his brothers. After all, I hadn’t even met his mother yet. I knew that a lot of our unconventional dysfunction had to do with his lack of experience, his emotional maturity level, and his stupid scarecrow brain as me and DeeDee called it. Big couldn’t see what I seen in my head. He had never been in a relationship like the one I imagined us in. It had me wondering if that was fictional too, or a possibility. His avoidant fearful attachment style made me wonder how distorted his perception of a relationship was.


I felt like I was stuck in a book when I was with him. We made love and every second tattooed itself into my brain. My fingertips gripping him, his lips pressed against my leg as he closed his eyes and smelled my skin. Those moments, were absolute ecstasy to me. Big created a chemical reaction in my brain that I just couldn’t escape . Unlike anything else, it was incredible. It was non-fictional and it was beautiful.


I felt like we played cat and mouse all too often. Maybe it kept our relationship exciting, maybe that’s why we lasted this long. Or maybe, that was what held us back. I always pulled back when I was getting too attached, and him the same. As our relationship progressed I felt like our chases had too. Now that we were together, there was a validity to holding him accountable, but me as well.

Looking back at the last two months I noticed that it was me who would continue to drop the ball when he would reach out. I learned quickly that those moments were how I could manipulate him.into showing me his softer side. It provoked is insecurities and I knew it, I always used that to my advantage. How could I not, when it gave me the side of big I held onto and loved so dearly, the soft side who showed emotion.




Shut down


Whenever something incredibly stressful happens in bigs life, he shuts down completely. That was the side of him I was seeing again for the first time in what felt like months. I hated that side of him. It was cold, emotionless, and hard to navigate around. He would distance himself physically and mentally. At one point in time, I would take it personally and spiral in my head. Now, I know that regardless of what he’s upset about , it’s his way of coping with major stressful events. He was a typical avoidant type person. I knew giving him space and reassurance was all I could do.

That didn’t make it an easier. In fact, now that we were together it made it worse. I felt like I should have been a source of comfort instead of him pushing me away from it all. He had expressed before he didn’t like dumping his problems on me, but I expressed countless times that I was always willing and happy to listen.


Big knew I was there for him , and shut down was withdrawal for me. It was all only a matter of time .






It was four days since big’s dad’s passing. He pushed me away so hard this time that I lost almost all the hope I had for us . I tried to give him his space , and respect his feelings, but he just shut off and left me in the dark, just like he use to. I felt stupid for believing he would ever treat me like a girlfriend. I fell for his tricks again even tho I knew he could never maintain, I wanted to believe it this time around so badly. Just when I start to feel like we take steps forward, he launches me right back to the harsh reality. He doesn’t make time for me, he doesn’t answer my texts, and he doesn’t let me know what’s going on in his life. I felt like his dad’s passing could have brought us closer, but instead he chose to push me away when all I wanted to do was comfort him. Big kept showing me his true colors, and I just kept painting over it with the same rose color I had used for years. Was I ever going to be able to love myself enough to stop painting and just see us for what we really are? I had become the girl I worked so hard not to be anymore. The desperate, sad girl who would do anything to be a part of a world that I would never belong in.


While he was mourning his father, I was mourning the loss of hope in us. I felt like I had been in this positions so many times. Taking the pain of his emotional immaturity while I wait for the skies to clear. I’d tell myself the truth, that he would come back, he always did. That sad little truth didn’t make it any easier though. This time it stung so much worse, we were suppose to be together, and I’d never felt so damn seperate. I needed to realize my needs and wants were too much for big, no matter how minimal. I needed to mourn the person I thought he was.


As much as I wanted to express how the last week made me feel, I knew it would just cause a fight and make him resentful. There was no way I could bitch about the time he spent or attention i wasn’t getting after his dad dying and his brothers visiting, It would be insensitive. Regardless of all that, he shouldn’t be treating me the way he does. So again, I’ll just sit quiet and wait for him to act right again, after all, when we were good…we were SO good…



Pattern repeated


Effort came quicker than I expected, with the following day bringing him to invite me for dinner and a movie at his house. I started to realize that these small little things were baby steps for him. I always knew that I put up with things most people wouldn’t. I had an extremely high pain tolerance when it came to Mr. Big. All of the times that I took the bullet, I did it for these moments. Regardless of how insignificant they may seem to some, they meant something to him and I.


I couldn’t help but wonder, what went through his mind about me. I told him when he was drunk nights later that he didn’t know his power, that no one else ever got me the way he did. I knew he loved hearing it, and it was true. It comforted a part of him i was never allowed to see.



The space


I awoke the next Monday morning with bigs arms wrapped around me. The sun peaked in from the little window across from my side. I loved the feeling of waking up with him but dreaded leaving, just as much. I’d lay there and listen to him breathe, the rhythmic beat of his heart playing in my ear. In that moment it became fully clear to me. I didnt care if life with big wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, I wanted it regardless of the darkness and all its hardships. I would never be truly happy without a level of chaos in my life and he was my perfect storm, the only one I’d brave these types of waters for.


I had started to learn more about his attachment style, about giving him space and why he needs it. I tried another level of understanding big, one that wasn’t just based on me making excuses for how I thought he should feel. I came to the conclusion in that bed, on that day, my future was with big, and no matter how far I tried to run, or who I tried to put between us…it never worked for a reason. We were meant for each other.


I’d take things with a different mindset now, try to figure out a balance that wouldn’t hurt so bad till I got us where we belonged.


With every night we would lay there and cuddle, I felt more loved each time, More connected to him and more aware that this was ultimately what I wanted. His scent lingered on my skin like a warm wood fire lingers in the fall mornings. It was intoxicating and addictive. The more I felt myself becoming attached to him , the more I thought he must be too. How could he not? Each time I felt like the space between our hearts narrowed a little bit more. I felt one day closer to him loving me.


The long haul


Our visits more frequently came, and staying over was almost weekly. Still, I found myself holding on to every second I could with him. I knew more times would come but for some reason my brain would set to anxious mode and start to panic if we had no set plans. I always found myself wanting more. That dynamic was part of our attachment styles and all I could do is be patient with him and let him continue to show me progress, regardless of how slow it is. I told myself “one day at a time, look how far we’ve come because of me, I can hold out now , he’s committed to me so it’s just a little bit longer, he loves you just give him time, its new to him” .


I continued reading up on his attachment style, I read how others with it show love. As I scrolled the page I was met with examples of behavior I was now seeing in my own boyfriend. I had solidified the fact now that with patience and understanding, I could help us get to a future, and God, I wanted that with him.

He just needed to give a little more of himself, a little more time, and a little more trust in me. I was in it for the long haul.

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