How to Let Go of an Obsessive Love Affair

Dear E. Jean: I’ve become obsessed with a beautiful—really beautiful—artistic, messed-up, soulful, self-centered romantic who is nine years younger than I am. For the past three years we’ve been having occasional sex, but the essence of our relationship is me advising him about his continuously tortured love life. (Women throw themselves at him.) I’m not conventionally pretty—I guess you’d call me “striking”—so obviously I’m charmed that he chooses me as his one constant. But in my head I know this is crazy.

He loves only what he can’t have. I’ve sworn him off numerous times—deleted him from my life—but I’m always drawn back. Our circles of friends are acquainted, and I can’t get away from him. Social media makes it worse! The problem is, I’m already in an amazing relationship, and my longtime boyfriend is completely faithful. I understand right from wrong, and I know what I should do.

But I need your help with this obsession. I think about him all the time, day and night—who he’s with, what he’s doing. I hate it, but when he tells me how much he needs me, I can’t resist! —Under His Spell

Miss Under, My Valentine: I see you’re attempting the daring Double McDude Twist: trying to break it off while banging the chap. Naw, gotta go one way or the other, Under Girl. To be rid of an obsession you must (A) give it up, or (B) marry it.

Are we good so far? Fine. Now, because Mr. Messed-Up is such a deliciously self-centered juvenile delinquent, Option B would probably obliterate your obsession in a couple of months, but it’s doubtful the lad would go along with it (not to mention your boyfriend, eh?). That leaves us with Option A.

With Option A you can eliminate the obsession if you can prevent yourself from being “always drawn back.” And why are you drawn? Not to go too deeply into brain porn, but the circuits in your pumpkin are designed to give you little kicks of dopamine when you receive rewards. You get the biggest kick, however, when you receive an unpredictable reward—e.g., when Mr. Messed takes a breather between women who “throw themselves at him” and texts you, out of the blue, that he “needs” you.

How big a kick? Let’s just say the hit of dopamine is so long, deep, and slutty that Auntie Eeee could have a very good time arguing about whether you’re addicted to the dopamine or to the dude.

As behavioral science expert Richard A. Friedman, MD, said in his New York Times piece “I Heart Unpredictable Love,” the latest research on unforeseeable rewards may help us understand “those friends who find themselves drawn to unpredictable romantic partners. They are not necessarily gluttons for pain or disappointment; they might be addicted to the hidden pleasure of inconstant love.”

So to kill the obsession, you must halt the dopamine hits. To halt the dopamine hits, you must stop the rewards. To stop the rewards, you must drop the guy. Don’t party at the parties where you know he’ll be, don’t gas up at his gas station, don’t pray in his church, don’t place bets with his bookie. You must reduce the chances of seeing, smelling, feeling, tasting, and hearing the guy to absolute zero. Block him from your phone, Facebook, Linked­­­In, and Twitter. If you can move to Tokyo, do it.

P.S. Thank you for enclosing the fellow’s photo. It activated my reward circuits so vehemently that my eyeballs now face in two directions. Indeed, I’d barely regained my feet, re-snapped my garters, and opened the next letter when…SWWWWWACK! Another devastating beauty appeared!

This letter is from the Ask E. Jean Archive, 1993-2017. Send questions to E. Jean at [email protected].