Emily and Jef

What an amazing ending! Jef is definitely a good match for Emily.

My only regret sitting there watching it all was that she didn’t give Arie a chance with Rickie. He had already had experience being with a single mom. What if he had been just as good with her, if not better?

But maybe what swayed Emily in the end was that she and Arie didn’t have as many honest, heart-to-heart talks that she and Jef had shared. With Arie, it was definitely attraction and passion, and yes, he’s such a good guy, but it was the depth of what they had that caused her to choose Jef instead. Arie definitely showed her physically that he loved her, but did he show her intellectually? In some ways he did “come out” and it was so great when he did. I just wanted him to keep talking; there was so much value in his words, so intriguing what his next ones might be. But instead he kept kissing her. Next time Arie, for whatever it’s worth, let a woman “hear” who you really are. You’ll win her heart for sure.


Ryan and Travis: Another Bachelorette Commentary

Hands down, Ryan is gorgeous, funny, charming, endearing. On the flip side, what he wants in a woman is much like a robot: not too emotional, logical, servant, etc. Some of the attributes on his list are good of course, like faithful, but as Emily says, there is nothing on his list about love. Kind of sad. And when he leaves her after not getting the rose, the one thing he really focuses on is how he looks, how his personality is portrayed, on camera. Not one tear. Because he knows getting women is not difficult for him. And I think he assumes that he will be the next Bachelor.

As for Travis, your heart just breaks. Look at the difference between Travis leaving, Alejandro leaving, and Ryan. Profound difference. And I just wanted to yell at my television, “Yes Travis, you will find someone!” But of course that would have been pathetic, so I didn’t yell it. I just thought it. It’s a toss up for me between Alejandro and Travis for the new Bachelor. Or that sweet man, sorry I can’t remember his name, with the disability. As I said before, this group of guys, especially the ones left now, have huge hearts, and real emotion, like Doug did on Monday. It made my heart hurt. They all deserve someone amazing, and what they don’t know is that they will probably get more offers of love than they can handle. I just hope they find someone perfect for each of them.

Anyway, just my thoughts, and I already know I am too committed to watching other people fall in love instead of finding my own. I just don’t know what that feels like, so I stay away from it rather than walking toward it. I didn’t know that PTSD was why I never could connect to anyone. Why I couldn’t stay. Or love very deeply. So I live vicariously through all the romance movies and novels and reality shows, and that’s how I feel anything at all.

The Real Story: Dreams & Actors

All the dreams in Anna Blair’s Visitors are real. I just had another one last night where Gerard Butler and I were together, and I got upset with something he did or said, so he went somewhere and came back, telling me we were going to Scotland on November 1st. Then he kissed my hand, and I knew he loved me and I loved him. It was amazing.

And I wonder why do I have dreams about actors? Is it because the statutory rape when I was sixteen had a lifelong effect on me?

The actor was 31, I was 16. He had recently been on a television series so he was very well known back then. My mother and sister did drop me off. I’m sure my mother never imagined what would transpire.

The actor took me to his bank, and a health food store where his photo was up on the wall among others, like Paul Newman and Al Pacino. We went back to his place. I sat in the living room on the couch. He went in the bedroom. When I looked up he was in a towel and was waving me into the room. I was more than naive, more than a virgin. My parents had never taught me anything about sex. Because even back then I had PTSD, I moved in a fog. Everything seemed numb. It blocked my ability to discern what boundaries were, what I didn’t have to allow.

I went in his bedroom and we lay down on his bed. He told me to touch his chest and then made a comment that I was like a robot. He moved on top of me and I said “no.” He lay back down, said “so near, yet so far away.” Then I felt bad and said “okay.”

After that incident, I was never the same. I had plastic surgery to be prettier. I only went after extremely good looking guys. I went for virgins. I thought, if I could get that guy, I could get anybody.

The actor took away my innocence, the rest of my growing up years, he took away reality. I was already messed up since kindergarten, so this just exacerbated my illness.

I thought for a long time how cool it was that this had happened. I certainly didn’t see it as a rape. Not until a counselor just a little over a year ago told me I had been. It was a shock to me. To see how delayed everything is in my life. Years after the event, I finally realize what had happened.

I even went to see him two or three more times before I was 23. We had sex, but it was meaningless. Then he told me he was married and his wife knew who I was so if I called, she’d know me. WTF?

After the first time, he did a photo shoot in a nudie magazine with some young beautiful model. I was jealous and hurt. And he was quoted as saying he never met a virgin he didn’t like. How cold, and cruel is that?

So the only thing I can figure is that I have dreams about actors because I had one once. It somehow makes it possible with others. And because I’ve lived on those movies, those romantic ones where everyone else seems to experience love but me. Of course I know there are others who can’t seem to connect with someone, but for me, the only way I can feel that love, that closeness, is by watching a romantic movie. And it makes my heart ache with loneliness.