The Allure of Emotionally Unavailable Men

I thought he was disciplined. He was detached. Busy isn’t a personality. The 80-Hour Excuse.

To this day, Sex and the City remains one of my favorite shows. A series about female friendship, modern dating, emotional availability, and the performance of identity. It has always been my comfort watch.

I’ll be the first to admit: I never understood why fans hated Mr. Big (John James Preston), the emotionally unavailable, powerful, wealthy New York financier played by Chris Noth. For six seasons and two movies, he carried on a chaotic, often toxic relationship with Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker).

I never understood why everyone thought he was the problem. What was not to like about him? He was handsome, well-known, and charming. I soon realized that I might be the problem.

It has recently come to my attention that I may have a tendency to attract the wrong men in my life. The emotionally unavailable men. A pattern that is becoming increasingly relevant.

Not too long ago, I was introduced to an individual who worked in high finance, let’s call him Mr. Maybe.

On paper, Mr. Maybe checked every box: he was age-appropriate, tall, handsome, intellectual, educated, ambitious, and charming. However, he was a bit elusive. He was hard to pin down and understand.

I remember having a fairly straightforward conversation, with him asking me questions and me asking him. There was a bit of flirty banter here and there. It didn’t feel awkward; it felt natural.

Nothing felt forced. Until I popped the infamous question. “So do you want a relationship?”

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I remember I instantly regretted them. I remember thinking to myself, “Why would I ask him that?” “I just met him.” “I don’t want to come off so strong.” However, the other part of me thought, “There is no harm in asking; I don’t want to waste my time.”

After all my overthinking, I remember he responded to my question with, “Eh Kinda, like I want one, but it’s kinda hard because of my job.” He quickly responded, “also you are in DC.”

In that very moment, I was taken aback by that comment. What did he mean by that? I will be honest, I didn’t know how to feel about that. Yet I ignored it when I shouldn’t have.

That should have been my sign to pivot, but I didn’t. Instead, I simply responded to him, “oh we can just see where it goes.” He agreed.

For the next few weeks, he went radio silent. His silence made me go stir-crazy, because it made me think I had said or done something wrong.

I remember telling all my friends what was happening and that he was still on my Instagram, but he hadn’t made another effort to reach out to me. He wasn’t intentional.

For some reason, I felt like I needed to defend his actions. I would say, “It makes sense, he is busy working.” “If I worked that much, I wouldn’t text every day either.”

Everyone told me that just because he works 80-100-hour workweeks doesn’t mean he isn’t busy; he just isn’t making time for you.

All my girlfriends repeatedly told me, “ Remember Ayra, ‘If he wanted to, he would.”

Honestly, I remember being very annoyed by those statements. Maybe I was just in denial. I remember thinking to myself, he checks every box, yet he does not know how to communicate with me. It was deeply frustrating.

He would text me a few times after that, and when I tried to move the conversation along, he wouldn’t respond. The message would just say ‘Seen.’

I didn’t think too much about it because that is the man I have always talked to, and always have.

Then, out of nowhere, I remember I saw an unfollow. It left me confused, and to an extent, hurt because I didn’t know what I did wrong. What could I have done? I was just being myself.

Then it dawned on me, I am the problem here. I keep attracting men who are emotionally unavailable. For as long as I can remember, I have created lists of the qualities I dream of in an ideal partner, including respect, education, liberation, notoriety, and responsibility. What should have been at the top of my list?

Available and able to communicate his feelings without any hesitation.

Look now, don’t get me wrong, strong communication skills take time. I certainly don’t have them all down yet. But here’s the thing: I am aware that solid communication and availability build a relationship, not the other way around.

If Mr. Maybe taught me anything in my two-and-a-half months of guessing and tiptoeing around him, it’s that, while yes, someone can look impressive on paper, it’s really their character that defines them and their worth.

While his absence felt confusing and hurtful at times. I just felt bad for him. Regardless of your impressive credentials, one can never build a relationship based on inconsistency. At the end of the day, ambition can build a career, but it cannot substitute for presence.

I am now starting to learn to stop confusing partnership with potential.