On the third day, Nia sat across from Dr. Thunderstorm Gadot in her sleek, lavender-hued therapy office—the color chosen specifically, she assumed, to calm people prone to emotional meltdowns.
Dr. Gadot was a petite woman in her early forties, with locs coiled neatly around her head and eyes that saw right through walls. She wore minimalist silver jewelry and spoke in a voice that could soothe a hurricane.
"So," she began, leaning forward slightly. "Tell me about Marcus."
Nia exhaled slowly. "He's the usual. Charming, confident, attentive—until he wasn't. Now it's radio silence."
"And how does that make you feel?"
"Frustrated. Annoyed. Embarrassed."
"Why embarrassed?"
Nia shrugged. "Because I'm fifty-five years old. I run a multi-million dollar business. I know better than to fall for a man who doesn't want to be caught."
Dr. Gadot tilted her head. "So you do this often?"
Nia hesitated. "More than I'd like to admit."
Silence stretched between them like a bridge waiting to be crossed.
Then the therapist asked, "What do you think draws you to these types of men?"
Nia stared at her hands. "I don't know. Maybe because I like the chase. Or maybe I think I can change them. Or…" She paused. "Maybe I don't believe I deserve more."
There it was. The truth, raw and unfiltered.
Dr. Gadot nodded thoughtfully. "Let's unpack that. Where did you learn that you're not deserving of full emotional investment?"
Nia swallowed. "My father left when I was seven. My mother never remarried. She always said men were unreliable. I grew up believing that love meant disappointment."
"That sounds painful."
"It was. But I built a life anyway. Built myself a career, independence, style. Everything except healthy relationships."
"You've excelled in so many areas of your life," Dr. Gadot said gently. "Why do you think love is where you struggle the most?"
Nia let out a bitter laugh. "Because love isn't in my control. Business is. Money is. Fashion sense is. Love... it's messy. Uncertain."
Dr. Gadot smiled faintly. "And yet, you keep trying."
"Because I still want to believe in it."
"And that's beautiful, Nia. But if you want to break this cycle, we need to get to the root of it. We need to understand why your brain sees an emotionally unavailable man as a prize worth chasing."
Nia nodded. "Where do we start?"
"We start with your past. With the men who shaped your expectations of love. And then we rewrite the story."
---
**The Roots Beneath the Surface**
Nia leaned back in her chair, letting the weight of the question settle over her. It was one thing to say she had issues with commitment or trust. It was another to dig deep into the soil of her childhood and unearth the roots of those beliefs.
"My mom raised me alone," she finally said, her voice softer now. "She worked three jobs just to keep food on the table and clothes on my back. She never complained, but I could see the exhaustion in her eyes every time she came home."
Dr. Gadot nodded. "What kind of messages did she give you about men?"
Nia frowned, thinking. "Not direct ones. She didn't sit me down and say, 'Men are trash' or anything like that. But she lived like they were. She never dated. Never even mentioned wanting to again after Dad left. I think… I think she believed that men would only ever disappoint her."
"And what did that teach you?"
"That love is fragile. That people leave. That relying on someone else for happiness is risky."
"Exactly. So when you look at your pattern—dating emotionally unavailable men—it makes perfect sense from a psychological standpoint."
"How so?"
"Because you've been conditioned to expect abandonment. Your brain has learned to anticipate loss. So when a man shows interest, especially a charming, exciting one, your body gets a rush of dopamine—the pleasure chemical. You chase that high, even though it rarely ends well."
Nia blinked. "That's exactly what happens."
Dr. Gadot smiled. "It's not weakness. It's survival. Your brain is wired to seek pleasure and avoid pain. When you receive attention from a man like Marcus, it feels validating. But when he disappears, it reinforces the belief that you were never truly worthy of consistent love."
Nia looked down at her lap. "So I'm basically addicted to rejection?"
"In a way. Not rejection itself, but the thrill of being desired by someone who might take it away. It's a dangerous cocktail—excitement, uncertainty, and intermittent validation. It keeps you hooked."
"I never thought of it like that."
"That's why we're here. To rewire the wiring."
---
**The Men Who Left Marks**
Over the next hour, Nia walked Dr. Gadot through the men who had shaped her heart—and broken it.
There was Jordan Taylor—the poet-turned-banker who swept her off her feet during her senior year of college. He wrote love poems and sang jazz standards under her dorm window. But when graduation hit and reality set in, he disappeared without so much as a goodbye.
"He broke my heart," Nia admitted. "But worse—he made me doubt whether I was lovable."
Dr. Gadot nodded. "When someone leaves without explanation, it forces you to fill in the blanks. And usually, we blame ourselves."
"Exactly. I kept asking, 'Was I not enough? Did I push too hard?'"
"Those questions are normal. But they become destructive when they shape your entire view of love."
Then there was Darius, the older man she dated post-graduation. He was suave, sophisticated, and financially secure. He took her to Paris for her 30th birthday and proposed a future together. Only to reveal months later that he was already married—with two children.
"I felt like a fool," she said quietly. "Like I should've known better. Like I missed all the signs."
"Or maybe," Dr. Gadot offered gently, "you wanted to believe in him so badly that you ignored the red flags."
Nia nodded. "That's true. I wanted to believe that someone like him could really love me."
"And why did you want to believe that?"
"Because I needed proof that I was desirable. That I was worthy of someone who seemed so put together."
Dr. Gadot leaned forward. "That's a powerful insight. You used relationships to validate your self-worth."
Nia's throat tightened. "Yes."
"That's a common coping mechanism. When we don't fully believe in our own value, we look outside ourselves for confirmation."
"And when they leave?" Nia whispered.
"We internalize it. We think it must mean something's wrong with us."
Nia wiped a tear from her cheek. "Yeah. Exactly."
---
**The One That Almost Was**
And perhaps the most painful of all—Elijah. Her fiancé. The man she thought would be the father of her children.
Their relationship spanned four years, filled with laughter, intimacy, and moments of pure joy. But beneath the surface, Elijah struggled with emotional intimacy. He was physically present but emotionally distant. She tried to reach him, to connect, to build something lasting. But eventually, she realized that some walls were built too high to climb.
"I loved him so much," she said, her voice breaking. "I thought he loved me too. But he couldn't give me everything. He kept me at arm's length, even when we were engaged."
"What happened when you confronted him?"
"I told him I needed more. That I needed him to open up, to be vulnerable, to stop pulling away when things got real. He said he couldn't. That he wasn't built that way."
"And how did that make you feel?"
"Broken. Used. Like I had given him everything and he didn't have the courage to meet me halfway."
"That's devastating," Dr. Gadot said softly. "To invest so deeply, only to realize the other person isn't willing to show up the same way."
Nia nodded. "I gave him four years. Four years of my best self. And in the end, he couldn't even explain why he walked away."
Dr. Gadot placed a hand on Nia's knee. "You deserved better than that."
Nia looked at her, eyes glistening. "I know. But I didn't know how to walk away until it was almost too late."
"That takes strength, Nia. Recognizing when something isn't working and choosing yourself—that's not failure. That's healing."
---
**Rewriting the Script**
After a long pause, Dr. Gadot spoke again. "You've spent your life looking for love in places where it wasn't available. And every time, it reinforced the idea that you aren't enough. But I want you to consider something different."
Nia met her gaze. "Okay."
"What if the problem isn't you? What if the problem is the men you've chosen?"
Nia blinked. "That's… not a perspective I've considered."
Dr. Gadot smiled. "Most women don't. We internalize rejection. We assume it means something's wrong with us. But what if it's just that you've been drawn to emotionally immature men? Men who are afraid of intimacy? Men who thrive on keeping women guessing?"
Nia let that sink in.
"You're not flawed, Nia. You're human. And humans crave connection. But you've been taught to seek it in unhealthy ways."
Nia exhaled deeply. "So what do I do now?"
"We start building a new narrative. One where you are the center of your own story. One where you choose partners based on consistency, not charisma. One where you prioritize your emotional needs above the fleeting rush of attention."
Nia nodded slowly. "I want that."
"You can have it. But it starts with awareness. With honesty. With learning to love yourself first."
---
**Walking Out Changed**
As Nia gathered her things and prepared to leave, she felt lighter somehow. Not healed—not yet—but aware. And awareness was the first step toward transformation.
Outside, the city hummed with life. People rushed to meetings, kids laughed on the sidewalk, street vendors called out their wares.
She pulled out her phone and sent herself a note:
"Today I started facing the truth. I am not broken. I am learning. I am healing."
She smiled.
For the first time in a long time, she believed it.