Dear Prudence,
For years, I’ve been the emotional caregiver in my relationships. Darren, my ex, was the prime example. I practically molded him into the man I thought he could be. I poured myself into him—my time, my energy, my heart. But when I needed him to support me, to stand by me as I pursued my career, he walked away and left me behind like all the effort I invested meant nothing.
Then, just as I was trying to move on, Darren came back. He said he’d changed and that he was ready for real commitment. Foolishly, I let him in again, hoping things would be different this time. But soon enough, I found out that after we broke up, he started dating younger women—as in 10 years younger. It felt like I was suddenly thrust into a competition I didn’t even realize I was part of. I’m 30, and now my age feels like a constant reminder that I’m being measured against someone younger, fresher. I obsess over every wrinkle, laugh line, and sign of aging. It’s exhausting.
Part of this is deeply rooted in how I was raised. The voice of Jeff, my stepfather, has always been in my head, even though I wish it wasn’t. Growing up, he made sure I knew I would never be good enough. “Prettier girls will always win,” he’d say. “Men only care about youth and beauty.” What kind of person says that to a child? I was trying to find myself, and instead, he made sure I knew my value had an expiration date. And now, with Darren chasing younger women, it feels like Jeff’s toxic prophecy is coming true. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m trapped in the future he predicted for me.
My mother passed away two years ago, and Jeff recently remarried. His new wife? She’s my age. The man who spent my entire life drilling it into me that my worth would plummet at 30 went and married a woman who could have been my classmate. The day of their wedding, Jeff was beaming with pride, while I stood there, barely able to contain my rage and disgust. After all those years of degrading me, he marries a younger woman. It felt like some cruel joke. I was barely able to stop myself from screaming at Jeff and confronting him right then and there. Literally the only thing that stopped me was realizing Jeff’s new wife was innocent in this and not wanting to ruin her big day. But that’s not even the darkest part.
After years of resenting Jeff for making me feel worthless, I’ve come to realize something horrifying: There’s a part of me that believes him. I’ve spent my entire life trying to fight his words, to prove I’m more than my looks, but here I am, acting like they’re true. Whereas before Darren and I were equals, he now has the upper hand. I’m desperate for his attention, even though I hate myself for it. Worse, I’ve caught myself enjoying the idea of being the one to “fix” him again, to pull him away from the younger women when they inevitably disappoint him. It’s like I’m addicted to the role of the emotional teacher. I feel like I’m living in the role Jeff wrote for me years ago. It seems like my choices are either bitter old maid spinster, or compliant, subservient girlfriend to Darren, always looking over my shoulder hoping a younger woman doesn’t snatch him up from me. Help me, because I don’t know how to stop letting my stepfather’s hurtful prophecy sabotage my life.
—Past Perfect