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I Didn’t Sign Up for This Sh*t
Why are my dates treating me as their therapist?
I am not sure how it happened but I have somehow become my boyfriend’s therapist and, to be perfectly honest, I hate it. When we started dating, I was super excited. He is tall, educated and ridiculously cute. Plus I am a sucker for redheads and his full head of red hair and freckles make me swoon. He’s a triathlete so his body is harder and more buff than men half his age. He’s also lived a good part of his life in Europe, where I am also from, so we have a shared passion for good wine and fine cheeses and the je ne sais quoi of European sophistication.
At first, I felt like I had found my perfect non-monogamous partner. Our first few dates were simply great. We shared parts of ourselves as we got to know each other over glasses of good wine, feeling the zing of good conversation and sexual energy as the evenings got late. I came home from our date nights glowing and happy.
The problem is that recently, I haven’t been coming home happy. I’ve been opening my front door and walking into my house exhausted, drained, down and heavy.
It isn’t exactly what I want to be feeling after a date!
At first, our conversations were so good. We would talk for hours about our dreams and…
