Familiarity Breeds... Confusion

Reality TV is garbage. It's killing more American brain cells than meth.* Mix the promise of instant fame with lying and backstabbing, a dose of aggression, and a lot of fake eyelashes and you have a hit show. (Remind me to invest in companies that make false eyelashes.) While the drama soup makes for good entertainment, the cast of one of the newest reality shows to hit the airwaves is keeping it classy classier by sharing their daily struggles to improve their lives. The cast mates share many commonalities, but the one that sticks out to me the most is repeatedly returning to that no-good ex in the hopes that her life will end in a fairytale. These women are young, pretty, and trying to make better lives for themselves. Unfortunately, positive progress is thwarted by the Return of the Ex. No matter the name, age, or profession of The Ex, he thinks showing up with flowers or sending an unsolicited "Hey, just thinking about you" message is going to atone for his past transgressions. And you know what? He's usually right.

I myself have fallen victim. Just once. And hear me when I say it was BAD. Bad doesn't even describe it. We're talking secret life bad. Lifetime Movie of the Week bad. The Memoir will be part of Oprah's Book Club bad. The Memoir will be assigned as mandatory reading as a cautionary tale for young girls in the public school system bad. There was a reason I never gave an ex a second chance and I found out, rather recently, why I had that rule in the first place. Remain friends? Sure. Set you up with a gal pal acquaintance of mine? Ok, buddy. But go down the Dating Driveway again? No sir!

...but I did. I was promised the world. He apologized, groveled, made speeches, gave gifts to reclaimed what he lost. Yup and I believe there were flowers in there too. The fallout from the second go round was immensely worse than the first. Heck, after the first break up we were still friends. After the second, I'm pretty sure cops will be called should we ever meet again.

Before you close your browser window because you believe this is an embittered tale, let me get to the lesson: You and The Ex are both lazy. Yep, you read that right. The Ex knows that he doesn't have to put in the work with a new girl because showing up with flowers will do. Sure he may have to listen to you chew him out for a few hours, but in the grand scheme of things that's a small price to pay for getting his comfy ex back. He's probably tuning out your soliloquy anyway. The charm that lured you in the first time will allow him to cross the moat. The familiarity he knows you have about the relationship will allow him into the city gates.

You, dear reader, are lazy. (As was I. As are the reality show gals.) It is much easier to start from Square 3 with an Ex than Square 1 with a new guy. You already know his favorite food, the way to his house, and his friends. And you're thinking "Bonus: The Ex doesn't count towards your 'Man Total'." You don't have to learn new personality traits or idiosyncrasies.  All you have to do is hope that the changes he promised to make with his flaws will come to fruition: he really will start paying attention to you more, he will respect your opinion and intelligence this time, and he'll never glance at another female again.

It doesn't work out that way. I watched the ladies of this new show shed many tears over the disappointment of The Ex. The flowers wilt along with the ambitious promises of change. The only thing The Ex manages to accomplish in any of their lives is to inhibit their progress and distract them from their goals. The light that shone ahead illuminating the path to a better future has been eclipsed by the gray emotional turmoil of a Ghost of Christmas Past. Time is wasted. Confidence is diminished. Any advances made by the strong, young female have been temporarily derailed by The Ex who was too lazy to actually change. I may not have added any IQ points watching this particular reality show, but it did serve as a wonderful reminder of why I will never allow familiarity with an Ex to cause unbridled confusion in my fantastic life ever again.

Leave The Ex. Take the flowers.

*No scientific studies have been done to back this up but I'm still confident it's true.