Women seem terribly complex to men, although it is not really true. On the other hand, women believe that men are quite simple, again not true. A few years ago, I had a new client, let’s call her Laine, who was trying to cope with a very difficult separation. Although approaching menopause, she was still a strikingly beautiful women, blonde and slender with Nordic features inherited from her Norwegian family. She had a personal trainer and rode her kayak almost daily through the waterways of Miami Beach. I’m certain her firm, yet shapely, body still turned heads, even among the younger men.

Raised in a small town in upstate New York, she had a troubled childhood. Abused by her father and brother, who was always in and out of jail, she left home the day of her 18^th birthday. In Manhattan, she achieved a modicum of success in modeling and acting, although it never brought her fame or fortune. She remained close to the entertainment industry, working behind the scenes in a cooking show and various news broadcasts. She hoped someday to have her own cooking show.

She was never able to establish a satisfactory relationship with a man, so she remained single and childless for many years. Eventually she was pursued by a businessman who owned an electronic store on 42^nd street. I saw his picture: he was fat and ugly. Laine told me that he was so pushy that eventually she gave in to him. She found something exciting about his type A personality and the improvement in her financial situation through marriage was too much to resist.

Unfortunately, the money was ill-gotten through securities fraud and he was eventually arrested by federal agents. He spent a few years in prison, leaving her alone with their young son. The government had seized their assets, leaving her financial situation precarious. By turning state’s evidence against his partners, he was able to get his sentence mitigated. Once out of prison, he was able to restart his businesses; Laine never knew where the money had come from. To avoid further confiscations, he put a couple of million dollars in her name and sent her to Florida, which he would visit every weekend. He encouraged her to get a divorce, a “paper divorce,” he called it, in order to protect her assets from the feds. Eventually, he said, they would be back together.

Again, she agreed to everything he said. Over time, the visits became less frequent, from weekly, to monthly, and then to never. She suspected he was with someone else, but really did not know. Oddly enough, she retained her admiration for him, claiming he could “sell ice to an Eskimo.” I told her that he could only sell to a sucker, but she would not face up to that. To do so would have meant that she was a sucker for being seduced by him. A therapist can only point things out, but it is up to the patient to admit her role in her own predicament. That is the only way to heal.

I got through to her a little bit. She said she now wanted a relationship with a regular guy, someone normal, someone she could count on. So she tried Internet dating and met someone she thought matched that ideal. Clark (not his real name) was a successful consultant, although hardly at the financial level of her ex-husband. He was fit and good-looking, intelligent, and a good family man. Just what Laine thought she wanted. I didn’t hear from her for a few months, so I assumed things were going well.

That is, until one Monday morning, she called me and frantically requested an appointment. She told me about Clark, how great he was, how he got along with her son. They went to dinner, dances, polo games, all the things she thought normal couples would do. So what was the problem, I asked?

“I don’t know. He was everything I thought I wanted. I just couldn’t get excited about him.”

“So you prefer someone who was a thief, a liar, who deceived you and cheated on you?” I asked.

“Yes, yet, what is wrong with me?”

“What happened over the weekend?”

“Saturday night, we met with some friends and came back to my house. I sensed a little coolness in him, although he was probably just responding to me. I walked him out to his car. He looked at me, but instead of kissing me good night, he simply asked, ‘do you want me to call you anymore?’

“I was flummoxed. I started stammering and went on and on. I told him that he was the perfect guy for me, but that I was too messed up to have a relationship with him. I told him I had talked to my friends and they were all giving me advice; one even convinced me to go to a Baha’i meeting. Finally, I told him I was going back to therapy and I would contact him later after I had worked things out. I had never felt so out of control and just kept yapping.”

“Well, what was his reaction?” I was curious.

“He just said, ‘I wasn’t looking for a long story, I just wanted a yes or no answer.’ Then he drove off.”